The best days out are the spontaneous ones.
Saturday evening, when we were sat around a make shift firepit in my friend’s garden, we decided on Sunday we would head to the beach. We’d exclaimed we hadn’t been to the beach this year and this was our way to rectify it. So, at around 8:30am the next day, we were in the back of Allan the Astra about to tackle the 2.5 hour drive to relive the typical English seaside day out, complete with hound.
I hadn’t been to Barmouth since I was around 7 or 8 years old, and I remember very little of it. I can’t imagine it had changed much in 20 years. It had everything you needed for a typical day at the seaside; tat shops, a chippy, ice cream and of course, the beach.