A day at the seaside

Wake at seven twenty, before the alarm that is set for half past. Get up, toilet, and then make breakfast, smoked salmon with cream cheese on Ryvita. Norman sleeps on and doesn't stir until it is time for me to leave and drive into Beverley to collect Louis at a quarter to nine. Then, all of a sudden, he is wide awake, skipping and wagging his tail ready for the Westwood. We arrive, in good military fashion, five minutes before parade, and Sarah makes a great fuss of Norman, but tells me he is getting fat. Which is true. I collect Louis and a huge plastic shopping bag, containing a towel, swimming costume, goggles, bucket and spade, a complete change of clothing, and a jumper and a coat, in case the weather turns cooler. Only as I am going out the door, does she ask," can you have Louis overnight?" I decline the offer, knowing I will be too tired after having him all day. Louis is fiercely intelligent, equally fiercely Independant, charming and totally exhausting. Seriously I think the kid could be a genius, but the jury is out as to whether he develops into an Einstein or a Hitler! I take him to Cherry, where we find Dolly confined to barracks because of her season, and Louis is given the option of watching TV, or walking Teddy and Norman with me. He chooses the latter, and we do our usual loop of the Westwood, at Black Mill we sit on a bench and I phone Hull Central Library and renew my books. Despite having an I-phone and an iPad, I prefer my books on paper, in much the same way as some music enthusiasts prefer vynil to digital. We get back for half past ten, drop Norman back in Tickton and then drive to Bridlington South Shore and the Park and Ride facility. The bus delivers us to the Harbour, and from there it is only a shortish walk to the leisure centre, where they have slides and a wave
Pool, besides a conventional twenty five metre pool. I am glad it is not too far, because all of Louis' gear and my swimming togs are quite a weight. We arrive at the pool for twelve thirty, only to find the wave pool and slides closed for refurbishment. What genius at East Riding Council picked the height of the holiday season for this task? Revenue prevention officer anyone? We change into our costumes and make our way to the pool, it is very hot and humid, the baby pool is freezing cold and the main pool, which only has four lanes, is too hot. Both pools are packed with holidaymakers, but Louis doesn't care, he can almost swim, being happy underwater and can float for a few yards and he can almost read, making out the words for deep and shallow end. Within weeks he will have crossed the threshold in both activities. He is also fiercely independant, and makes up his own mind about what advice he will accept and from whom. We swim and play for an hour and then Louis states that he is starving and wants lunch. The cafe is equally as good as my home pool in Beverley and the food arrives fresh and hot within minutes. I have the Aberdeen Angus burger with tossed salad and Louis insists on a ham sandwich with chips. There is a table overlooking the pool and we eat whilst watching the other swimmers. After lunch, I rest and drink tea, but Louis wants to continue swimming, I confine him to the learner pool but after five minutes he ignores me completely and enters the main swimming area. From my vantage point, overlooking the main pool, I can easily keep an eye on him and don't initially contest his disobedience, until he seems about to jump in the deep end, in order to play with some older boys. Whilst he can swim a few metres and could probably regain the side of the pool, this is a risk too far and I intervene. Reconfined to the learner pool, he plays for another half hour, before we shower and change and then head outdoors about half past three. The bags are even heavier now that they contain wet towels and costumes. I take Louis to Tophams Ice Cream Parlour, which remains the best inBridlington and was on the go when I was Louis' age. I can distinctly remember going for coffee before breakfast, at six thirty or seven o'clock, when we holidayed in Bridlington with my Grandma and Aunty Rene, a few weeks after my mother died in 1956. Louis chose chocolate ice cream, and told me it was still the best in the world. We make our way to the beach and Louis wants to play crazy golf, I am scandalised that it now costs £2:50p when it used to be sixpence or 2:1/2p in decimal currency. Louis won't be shown how to use the golf club and converts the game into "crazy hockey", before we reach the beach. We inherit two holes in the sand which are interconnected by a deep tunnel, as the original builders, a father and son combination, vacate the beach. This keeps Louis amused for an hour or so whilst I watch some local kids who have developed a kind of trampoline by partially burying two giant beach balls in the sand. There are about a dozen of them, ranging in age from about nine to sixteen and they take it in turns to perform acrobatics, somersaults and twists, bouncing off these balls after an energetic run up. Louis complains to me that he has buried two sponge fish in the holes. These are bath time toys that were included with his bucket and spade. The last land train leaves in ten minutes, so I spend a frenzied few minutes excavating the holes before finding one of them, but not the other. Louis sheds a few tears but I tell him it is finding "Nemo", and we manage to squeeze into the last two seats on the train. When we arrive back in Beverley, Louis is fast asleep and I am feeling quite exhausted. We are greeted by Sarah at the door, who tells me the steam cleaning lady isn't finished and Louis will have to stay with me overnight. I politely but firmly decline and point out to her, that he is her son not mine, at which point she tells me to take him to Cherry and ask Pip if he can stay there. This is meant to be a kind of manipulation, but I do exactly what she asks and leave him with Pip. I can't for the life of me see why having the carpets steam cleaned means you can't sleep at home, but there again what do I know! I get back to Tickton for six thirty, just as a thunder storm breaks, and am greeted by Norman, who wants his dinner, I duly oblige and once the thunderstorm has passed take him down the lane for his evening walk. Finally, at half past seven, I am able to put my feet up, and am too tired to cook, so dine on cheese and crackers, before reading my book for an hour and then having an early night.