I’m back in East Ardsley, West Yorkshire, after an enjoyable few days break residing in a lodge at Heysham on the Lancashire coastline. This pleasant enough town, an Irish Sea port for ferries to the Isle of Man and Ireland, which although accessible by road not wardrobe I’ve been unreliable assured is twinned with Narnia.
Thankfully, though, there was less snow, lions and witches in Heysham than Narnia. When I say less I actually mean none. If anything, with it’s nuclear power stations, the fictional town it possibly resembles most is Springfield; hometown of dysfunctional animated family The Simpsons.
I pray for the sake of people in that vicinity that there’s not a reckless Homer Simpson type character assigned with key responsibilities in Nuclear Power Stations 1 & 2……. Of course there won’t be; security at the eyesores on the Irish Sea coast will be paramount. In fact, I’d go as far as positing even Hong Kong Phooey’s agility and stealth of movement wouldn’t be able to breach the iron clad security ring of the sites.
The lodge where friends and me resided was well-equipped, cosy and spacious (even including a walk-in wardrobe and ensuite in the master bedroom). There was also a separate walk-in toilet; which, with being not particularly adept at liberating my ablutions out of a window, were facilities I deemed particularly useful!
One of our party was the enchanting lab/retriever cross Coco who seemed to approve of the Irish Sea resort where we were housed for four nights. Her giddiness in her uncommon surroundings being that of an itinerant child who’d just eaten 50 bags of Haribo gummy bears.
If she’d hands instead of paws, not only would’ve Coco given her holiday a big thumbs up, but she’d have likely logged on the TripAdvisor website to post a glowing review of the lodge resort. Alas she hasn’t, consequently I’ll have to act as her ghost writer, submitting she’d a whale of a time by the seaside.
With this junket taking place out of the holiday season, fellow holidaymakers were scarce. But that mattered not when you’re with a group who’re good company, there’s wine and Just Eat deliver to the resort.
Entertainment in the warm and comfortable lodge was provided by Apple Music, movies on DVD and my ‘hilarious’ gags. The latter reluctantly endured by my group from the position of either listen to my lame jokes or go outside in the teaming precipitation……. My audience more captured than captivated.
While on the darker side of the Pennine Hills, early morning fluffy heads were despatched by bracing walks with Coco along the coastline and resort site. The wind whipping up from the Irish Sea blowing away the metaphorical cobwebs that’d gathered overnight along with gas, heartburn and quick-filling bladder.
It was a chilling few days, during which I was chuffed to fit in a visit to the nearby Eric Morecambe statue. Having my photo taken with this sculpture of a childhood hero, which I refer to in greater detail in the narrative Eric Brought The Sunshine, giving me a huge amount of joy……. If I’d have ever got to meet the late, great entertainer I’d have reached the excitement levels of Coco during her sojourn!
Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside. I do like to be beside the sea ………
