We have an unprecedented four days ahead of us. Four castles on the shopping list (as opposed to fork handles) Giddy plans such as this not achieved since the Summer of ’67. An in between ‘O’ and ‘A’ levels must do project, turned into a good excuse for a cycling trip with life-long friend Paul Shelton, visiting the castles of North Wales.
We’re currently parked up just outside Seaford, on a very openly exposed Buckle Holiday Park. Family run, with no intentions of updating the facilities since they were first erected circa 1952. The referred to toilet ‘block’, a misnomer. No more than a wooden, run down, longer than average garden shed. The word ‘hut’ springs to mind. At £30 a pot, ‘Value for money’ does not.
On arrival we get a pleasant surprise. We’re allocated a pitch next to Beastie’s identical twin. Our returning neighbours get a surprise too. Our central door is wide open. As they approach they look worried. They think Beastie is theirs, until the penny drops. It’s clear their Beastie suffers from the same ‘driveway anxiety’ attacks as ours. The rear bumper currently held on with lashings of Gaffa tape.
Earlier, we ignore the rain and go with its flow. Enjoy a delightful diversion. Call on the pretty town of Lewes and its cobbled high street. As did Mick Jagger for a short time in 1967. Courtesy of HMPS for possession of cannabis. With nothing to declare, we seek out castle number one. Fill time and space between our ears with its history. A plentiful supply of info boards, compensate for the lack of audio guide.
With Beastie’s burners back on tap Mrs S shows off her culinary talent again to round the day off nicely . . .
