We had never seen anything like it.
The sun came out.
It made the mud caused by twelve hours’ rain the previous night become less muddy mud – enough to squelch and spray within a ten metre radius; not enough to lose a shoe.
Way hey! Way hey! Off to Rhyl for the day!
Rhyl has a beach. We did beachy things, including trekking back up from the sea to the bin with dog dirt. Twice. I’m sure I lost weight.
We ate junk food, over-priced takeaway food, and our words – we didn’t want to anger the sun so that it got into a huff and disappeared. And it didn’t, until the rain took the nightshift.
The kids wasted their money in the arcades and the shops, as every child born since the advent of the railway allowed cheap seaside excursions has done.
Spud climbed a wall right to the top and was given a free stick of rock as a reward. Later, the rain warped it and we threw it away.
The dogs loved their six-hour walk.
The Hub was too exhausted to braai in the evening, despite spending most of the day sitting down on walls, benches and the occasional stranger, so we bought fresh cooked chicken, ham shanks, salad and bread for dinner. Yummy, greasy finger food: perfect, and not a problem to clean up afterwards – we just stuck our hands out of the tent doorway and let the rain save us a walk to the utility block.
I was beginning to like Wales.