This post is all about our family adventure on Saturday the ninth of April 2011.
Your dad and I met up during the week with your friend Fritha at the Lido in Clifton. He’d already forgotten about our Friday club and had other plans but suggested we go for an adventure on Saturday.
I love adventures.
“Where?” I asked.
“The Floating Harbour” he said.
“That’s not an adventure!”
He didn’t pause but did take a tiny moment to come up with a follow up suggestion of the Downs.
Tip: You will find in the future that this is one of his most endearing qualities of not being offended at a ‘no’ but seeing it as a challenge to find a way to get a ‘yes’. Probably because he’s a little too confident and competitive but I’m sure you’ll find a way to use it to your advantage.
The suggestion of the Downs made me pause as my walking wasn’t exactly pain free yet but an opportunity for an adventure doesn’t come along very often so I said yes and decided to worry later.
Luckily I was in such a rush to get ready for our meeting when the time came that I didn’t bother with the worry. You looked exquisitely beautiful in your dark pink and white onesie underneath your blue jean overalls which had a bear face on them. Your socks were orange to match your buttons rather than the pink of the onesie as we couldn’t find the right tone in our selection of clothes.
The bus stop brought us some new friends who admired your hair and kept up a running commentary throughout the bus journey. There were three of them and they were older but not old-old. They loved it when the bus driver stopped at the Greggs pastry shop to get some food. ‘You should have taken orders, driver’ one of them called out but he didn’t reply.
Dad had his Murdoch owned newspaper and had already ordered our coffee (my coffee) by the time we arrived late. We are always late, puppy, but he has yet to complain.
The Clifton Tea Room was very busy and we nearly sat on the ground while we waited. You were in your pram and dozing so you wouldn’t have minded but I minded.
When we found a table you started to get hungry so we sent off dad to get hot water for your bottle. I read to you from the paper and despaired at the reasoning behind the silly, ‘feminised’ -laden with redundant descriptions- writing used for personal profiles (I also despair when it’s done in the guardian so don’t blame ex-Aussie Rupert). What the hell is a perfect New York day anyway?
You weren’t impressed and started protesting quite loudly. Walking didn’t help so I had to overcome my fear of nursing in public and fed you before dad came back. He was gone awhile and had thoughtfully taken the other half of the paper with him so we didn’t worry about him being bored or lonely.
He returned and was put in charge of feeding you with the bottle of milk I had with me. I drank my coffee and watched and listened. You two are a funny pair.
He’d also ordered a second round of coffees. You may not appreciate this for a while but I haven’t finished a hot cup of coffee in a long time and it felt like the ultimate decadence. The decaf coffee is excellent there.
It was a perfect Bristol day (do you see how meaningless this sounds?), so we took dad for lunch to a pub with a beer garden. He led the way luckily to a lovely place that used to be quite local to him. The Port of Call.
The day was so sunny that we kept switching sides of the table so that you were out of the sun while we held you. It was also a good idea for him to be out of the sun. I hope you have inherited your skin complexion from my Mediterranean genetic pool.
A lot of the time was spent feeding you and it was mainly down to me as you had long grown bored of the bottle. We, the bigger people at the table, ate very tasty scampi and a dash too greasy chips, and then lazed in the sun while you slept in your pram. Luckily we were in England because if we had done the same thing in Spain we would have been more like characters in a sitcom – see references to a show called Benidorm.
A horse race was on and your dad placed a bet on our behalf. We did not become millionaires but I’m hoping he kept the slip because it would look nice in a scrapbook. It also made for a useful comment at breakfast the next morning with some other friends.
The guy sitting opposite me took out a horse’s name from his pocket – some kind of office sweepstake – and wondered who had won. I quipped (in reality you need never use anything other than ‘said’ but I like the sound of quip) that it wasn’t ‘What A Friend’. The rest tittered.
We headed off from the pub to collect dad’s bike and bought some cheese and chocolate from the Better Food Company. Then we did some more strolling, what with it being a perfect Bristol day and all, to the Sainsburys nearby to buy some supplies for you. No emergency, ready-made baby formula at the lovely food shop.
To finish our adventure, we walked home and that felt like an accomplishment too.
Well done to us!