I had kept the card for the taxi firm who had brought us to the Holiday park from Hayle, and so we rang them to come and pick us up to take us to the railway station because it was such a steep hill up to the station and would have been an effort for me to make with the suitcase. As it turned out, we were there with plenty of time to kill before our train was due to arrive. I was quite amused by the fact that you had to actually walk across the lines to get to our platform, a little discerning when you realise that most of the trains using this stretch tend to be express trains!
I wiled away the time taking photos of the abundant flora that grew alongside our platform and also had a jog up and down from end to end. Eventually our train arrived and we made our way to our reserved seats for the journey to Birmingham New Street. On arrival there, I was pleased that our train to Leeds was actually due in on the same platform so we didn’t have any changing of platforms to do, always a worry for me when you have suitcase and Kerri in tow and your in an unfamiliar station.
Our next train arrived on time and again, we made our way to our reserved seats. It was the train to Glasgow Central. Sigh. I love Cross Country trains, they are always clean and tidy, and the staff are always friendly.
Soon we were seeing the familiar sight of Leeds station, and we caught our train home, where I rang for our usual taxi firm to collect us for the last leg. What a wonderful holiday! Okay, the weather could have been kinder, but it turned out to be exactly as I had always imagined it would be, and I am so glad that I have had the chance to stay in Cornwall. Enjoy my last shots taken of Hayle Station and our train etc.
What a morning we had yesterday! I should have known to stay put when it took me an age to get my boots on. Fastening laces and squeezing thick sock clad feet into boots is not my idea of a blissful start to the day. The boss had beaten me to it in her eagerness to stock up with food and was patiently waited downstairs ready to exit the door. I was therefore in a bad mood to begin with. We planned to walk through the cemetery (all flat ground with no hills to struggle either up or down) and thence across to a local shop. However, on reaching the road a bus passed us as the road had been cleared.
For the last two days we have not moved from this abode. K has been housebound. No transport to take her to Day Care though as usual I was reminded that if I could get her there staff were in situ. Hmm. Pity the helicopter’s being serviced isn’t it? So Tuesday I had the pleasure of hearing constant hassle to plod out regardless, call a taxi or sledge down on one of our tea trays into the thick snow for some shopping. When I flatly refused, we had mutterings, grumbles, looks that could kill, and all born by me with a blatant resolve not to give in to the evil looks and curses made under the breath.
Our last day on holiday was to be K’s choice of venue. Sea Life at Scarborough. Again, another glorious sunny day despite the promise from the weather forecasters of rain later on. We caught the same bus outside the camp at 9.30am and arrived in Scarborough at roughly 9.45am. A brisk walk down the busy shopping streets followed by the steps down to the sea front. I did toy with the idea of catching one of the open topped tour buses to take us to Sea Life which is positioned right at the end of the North Bay, but as the weather was so warm I decided we would walk there. Big mistake!
Case all ready packed the day before, we set off via our local bus following a morning where I very nearly drove myself insane with indecision. All over the route to take and method of transport to use. Taxi all the way to Huddersfield Railway station? Catch the bus down to town and then catch another bus to Huddersfield? Bus down to town and then a taxi to the railway station? Bus down to town and then walk up to our railway station and catch a train to Huddersfield?
The decision rested (for me at any rate) on the inclement weather outside. If it continued to rain, then a taxi straight to Huddersfield would be preferred, whereas as always, K’s criteria concerned the fact that she wished to call into her favourite bakery in town in order to buy something to eat for lunch on the train.
As K and I stood waiting for our taxi yesterday in Tesco’s car park, we were nearly given a close body shave by a driver who pulled up sharply in the taxi pick up area, where he got out of his rather posh large car and leaving his car door open, quickly dashed over to the cash machines. He was fairly young and sported some designer sunglasses. On returning to his car a few minutes later, he glanced back at both of us as if we were something the cat had dragged in, climbed back in and drove off with the usual flourish that some drivers do who think they are a cut above the rest. All that was missing was the screech of tyres and both of us left standing there covered in a cloud of dust. As he sped away I noticed the last letters of his number plate.
B F A. Can you guess what I said they stood for to cause K to howl with laughter?