Pyrotechnics and Stuff
Evening dudes. I hope that you've enjoyed the Bank Holiday weekend; I've had an awesome time.
As you will know from my previous posts I spent it down in West Wales, and it turned out to be quite a packed few days. I enjoyed some good walking and some time chilling out and reading (still Harry Potter, but I have to concede that JK Rowling has written this one well).
On top of that we had some good social times; a friend of Sam's was staying with us and we saw various other friends throughout the weekend. Saturday night was a highlight - we had what turned out to be quite an eclectic group round for a BBQ (always a good move). The group included an old work colleague of my dad's, his wife and their 12 year old daughter, plus his wife's cousin and her husband (who have a house in the area) and their 27 year old daughter. It was all beautifully random, especially as we didn't even know everyone's surname but the whole evening went really well.
Following the BBQ we all decamped to the town up the road for the 'end of regatta fireworks display', which is where the title of the post comes from. I wasn't expecting much to be honest but as we parked up and started walking down to the seafront the sheer volume of people also pouring down the street raised the expectations a little bit. But they didn't get raised far enough - people, it was one of the best displays I have ever seen. Comprising 20 minutes of sublime pyrotechnical wizardry it echoed up the picturesque estuary and lit up the entire sky. The finale was immense, and the fact that 'someone who works in the firework industry' has a house in the village probably explains a lot.
The rest of the weekend passed with more spontaneous social gatherings, a random swift half after hours in a pub (whilst searching for someone called Lewis) and tension as poor weather and a broken gyroscope cast doubt over the idea of flying home.
For the record we made it safely after climing through the cloud to 7000ft and I enjoyed a pleasant flight unbothered by the Bank Holiday jams.
Smashing.
As you will know from my previous posts I spent it down in West Wales, and it turned out to be quite a packed few days. I enjoyed some good walking and some time chilling out and reading (still Harry Potter, but I have to concede that JK Rowling has written this one well).
On top of that we had some good social times; a friend of Sam's was staying with us and we saw various other friends throughout the weekend. Saturday night was a highlight - we had what turned out to be quite an eclectic group round for a BBQ (always a good move). The group included an old work colleague of my dad's, his wife and their 12 year old daughter, plus his wife's cousin and her husband (who have a house in the area) and their 27 year old daughter. It was all beautifully random, especially as we didn't even know everyone's surname but the whole evening went really well.
Following the BBQ we all decamped to the town up the road for the 'end of regatta fireworks display', which is where the title of the post comes from. I wasn't expecting much to be honest but as we parked up and started walking down to the seafront the sheer volume of people also pouring down the street raised the expectations a little bit. But they didn't get raised far enough - people, it was one of the best displays I have ever seen. Comprising 20 minutes of sublime pyrotechnical wizardry it echoed up the picturesque estuary and lit up the entire sky. The finale was immense, and the fact that 'someone who works in the firework industry' has a house in the village probably explains a lot.
The rest of the weekend passed with more spontaneous social gatherings, a random swift half after hours in a pub (whilst searching for someone called Lewis) and tension as poor weather and a broken gyroscope cast doubt over the idea of flying home.
For the record we made it safely after climing through the cloud to 7000ft and I enjoyed a pleasant flight unbothered by the Bank Holiday jams.
Smashing.
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