I warn you now. If you have a life, you might want to cherish it and leave, or at the very least scroll very quickly.
I was going to split this into numerous posts, but it was one day. One day of our lives, and I’ve already written a little about this in The Weekend Post #22.
We decided, on our third day exploring Wales, to take a trip to Llandudno. It was an idea that sprung from a nap-time, where Mark was the only one awake and left to his own devices. Which meant he came up with a plan. And, in reality, I think that’s why it was so special.
I felt like I’d be whisked away. And it was amazing not to know what to expect and just put trust in him and how well he knows us.
Once we’d nabbed a spot to park – which was sheer luck as it was bustling with happy people enjoying the sunshine – we headed straight for the beach, which was just across the road. I was so excited to hear Bill’s squeals of: “The sea Mama and Mark! The sea!” And that marked the first time I welled up.
Though, we saw donkeys and then that happy tear ended when my animal-mad child all of a sudden decided that donkeys were the devil’s steed. We didn’t take a ride. I didn’t get to have my glorious mum memory moment. The killjoy.
But obviously making ‘pebble towers’ with rocks was much more suitable.
I think this is one of my favourite shots. They both look so solemn from behind, but I expect they were just talking about the sea. I know them both so well, from whatever angle. Those broad shoulders, and that scrappy blonde hair.
I packed us a picnic of leftovers. Crusty chilli bread, Mediterranean bread, tomatoes, Welsh cheddar, honey roast ham, pork pies, pickle, apples and grapes. It wasn’t elegant, and we did have to beat off a few seagulls – I swear one was aiming to snatch Bill himself – but it was fun.
Oh God. I just swoon every time.
Any other parent thinking of Balamory, just looking at this?
‘Bay’ in Welsh is ‘bae’, which made me more amused than you could possibly imagine.
It was as heavenly as it looked.
It was a day full of firsts too. First Hook-a-Duck, first donut, first cable car ride.
After we strolled the beach and pier, stopping off for ice creams and bouncy castles, we made our way up a sloping hill. Mark had something in mind.
The view on the way there was incredible. I didn’t feel like I was on Welsh soil at all. But somewhere altogether different.
It occurs to me, every time I come to edit the photographs I take, that, while I’m sometimes lacking in skill, I do have a style. I snap the strangest things. But they mirror my memories perfectly. They are just as I saw them. Tiny details but ones that matter.
Like this daisy. We each got one, picked by a toddler boy.
I wish I’d managed the technicalities of this shot. But when they play, you snap and then you appreciate what you have, because, when memory fades, these last.
“Mama? Mark? I see everything.”
The cable car made him feel like king of the world.
And it had the opposite affect on me. I felt very small. But very comforted by that. I was in a bubble, in the air, floating above everyone else, and I was with the people I love the most.
And then we were atop The Great Orme. The views were stunning and I felt like I’d been gifted a chance at seeing some true beauty.
This photo above is another favourite.
And why are seaside donuts, sugar-dusted and steaming hot, the best kind?
It’s not often a shot of me will find it’s way on here. At least, from the ‘big camera’.
I can see myself, caught briefly, just being a mum, my hair is a mess, my son is on my knee, looking down at the world below, and Mark managed to catch me in a happy moment.
But the look I give him.
Well, I can tell how much he means to me in that look.
And I can tell how happy I am in these moments.
The ones that count.