Gaby Book 28  Balancing Trick by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2023 Madeline Bell

"So where’s this hotel place then Dave?” Mum asked once we were settled inside.
"Just south of Weston, we can go straight down the thirty eight.”
"And be stuck in the middle of nowhere for the rest of the day,” Mum opined, "Boris has never been before and I fancy some proper chips.”
"Okay,” Dad allowed, "What’re you thinking?”
"Into Weston, we can park on the front, have a walk.”
"Get some chips,” I interrupted.
"It’ll fill the afternoon a bit.”
"As long as there’s somewhere to sit,” Jules opined.
"Fine,” Dad allowed, "Weston here we come.”

I don’t suppose many of you know Bristol Airport, I’ve certainly not been before, its a small, single runway affair which for some reason they built on top of one of the biggest hills for miles around. At least it seemed that way, out of the airport we turned towards Bristol then almost immediately turned into a country lane that looked like it could be fun on a bike as it tilted downwards through some bends before going into a sort of wooded valley. Well going down would be okay, riding up might be more of a challenge.

Anyway, at the bottom were some traffic lights and it was signed left for 'Weston-s-Mare' one way and 'Bristol' the other.

"There are some funny names here,” Boris suggested.

I had to agree, just how do you pronounce Congresbury?

"No worse than some German ones,” Jules told him.
"Oh I don’t know,” Mum started, "There are some pretty weird ones down here, Shepton Mallet for example.”
"Sounds like something off Little Britain,” my sister opined.
"Real enough place, if I remember rightly they used to make silk there.”

The road bounced along for a bit then dropped into the aforementioned Congresbury after which any semblance of up and down disappeared. Talk about flat, the only hill was when we crossed the motorway and then it was flat again all the way to the seafront. I wouldn’t say it was super busy, we managed to park on the promenade and Boris got his first look at a British seaside resort.

"Used to come here quite a bit when I was a kid,” Dad mentioned as the five of us slowly walked along towards the pier.
"We used to end up at Llandudno,” Mum supplied.
"Used to take forever,” Dad went on, "Mum herding us kids across Taunton station, we lost your aunt once, she got on the Exeter train.”
"Bet she didn’t do it a second time,” Jules suggested.
"I think we only ever went in the car after that,” Dad told us, "Mum was quite traumatised.”
"Unlike Kath I’m guessing.”
"She was only about four or five, don’t suppose she even remembers.”

"So why’s it called Weston super Mare,” I asked as we tucked into some traditional if not great fried potato sticks.
"Dunno,” Mum the geography teacher admitted, "Dave? Any idea?”
"Something to do with the sea?”
"You don’t say,” Jules smirked.

We didn’t stay long, well we aren’t exactly here for a holiday are we, amusements and ‘kiss me quick’ hardly seemed appropriate. On the other hand Dad seemed to have perked up a bit, maybe it was the memories of coming here in his youth.
 

"Seeing as we’re doing the sightseeing bit,” Dad started as we got back into the car, a Vauxhall badged Opel Zafira, "There’s somewhere a bit cheesy we can show Boris.”
"Cheesy?” Boris queried.
"Really Dave, that’s terrible,” Mum told Dad.

I couldn’t help it, I had to snerk.

"Everyone okay with that?” Dad enquired
"As long as there’s not too much walking,” Jules stated.
"You can stay in the car if you like,” Mum proposed.
"We’ll see.”
"It’s not far,” Dad told us, "Then we’ll go to the hotel okay.”
"Whatever,” I offered.

I’m sure there was an easier route but Dad seemed to know the way, taking lanes that went up over a great lump of hill, the views across the Somerset Levels being extensive if not spectacular. More lanes, back over the motorway, up a hill, down and eventually at Axbridge, a fairly big A road. Whether Boris caught on to where we were headed I’m not sure but the big sign as we reached the town garnered no doubt.

There are many famous places around the world, Paris, London, New York and so on, mostly big cities but surpassing all of those, one tiny Somerset town is probably better known than many illustrious megaloplii. Yep, Cheddar! You might get cheese all over but your bog standard type is known the world over as Cheddar and here we are driving through the cheese theme park.

Well that’s probably a bit unfair, its famous for the Caves and of course the Gorge but clearly local businesses are not shy when it comes to exploiting the dairy produce connection. Cheese shops, cheese cafes, cheesy names and by the looks on their faces, some cheesed off visitors. We drove up through the tourism past the main cave entrance and on up the gorge.

"You remember Cresswell Crags,” Mum asked.
"Geography field trip on the bus,” Jules supplied.
"Well this is like Cresswell on steroids,” Mater told us, "In prehistory it had a river running down and it was closed over, there’s miles of caverns under the Mendip, big show caves here and along at Wookey.”
"Like at Castleton?”
"Similar, the Mendip is made of the same stuff as the White Peak, just a lot smaller.”

The car might have the latest registration mark but as we climbed further it complained more. The walls of the Gorge towered above us, broken rocks at the road edges suggested that rocks were still falling literally a million years after it was formed.

"Should've brought your bikes,” Jules suggested as we passed a couple of guys twiddling away up one of the steeper sections.
"I’m sure I read that the national hill climb is up here this year,” Dad advised.
"You could come and do that,” my sister persisted.
"Ha, ha, I’m not eligible anymore, you have to British.”
"Pity really,” Mum noted, "I think you’d be in with a crack at the title.”
"What about you?”
"I’m a bit past killing myself for titles.”
"As if.”

We reached a wider section and Dad turned us around to retrace the Gorge back to the town. It was certainly quite steep, a bit sketchy in a few places with stony debris, I suppose they’ll sweep it before they race on here.

"Anyone want to stop?” Dad asked as we queued past the cave entrance.
"Maybe just a short one?” Mum put forward.
 

All things are relative, short in geological terms is a lot more than long in history, in this case short was about three quarters of an hour. Mum and Jules got as far as the little patch of green next to the car park, me, Dad and Boris continuing down to the cluster of cafe’s, outdoor shops and cheese emporiums in, what appeared to be the village centre. Of course we had to take a look in one or two, I do admit to purchasing some cheesy souvenirs, not for me of course but there are folks back home in the Ahrtal that’ll appreciate them.

"Cheesed out?” Jules enquired when we got back to them, huh, they’ve had ice cream!
"Don’t tell me they had cheese flavour ice cream?”
"Actually they did,” Mum supplied, "But we stuck to boring vanilla.”
"Cheese ice cream sounds revolting.”
"Says Miss Cheese herself, that Bergkäse you have, now that is awful.”
"It’s an acquired taste.”
"You eat that stuff Gaby?” Boris asked, "I thought it was just to scare the mice away.”

I poked my tongue out.

"Come on then, let’s get to this hotel.”
"How far is it?” I asked.
"Ten miles ish,” Dad suggested leading the way back to the car.

Let’s see, a mile is about one and a half kilometres so that’s about fifteen K. My bladder suggested I could last that long.
 

The Premier Inn Weston Super Mare (Lympsham) turned out to be a low, white painted affair attached to a restaurant called the Hobbs Boat housed in what was probably once a pub. What can I say, it’s a three star chain hotel which to be fair isn’t that bad, there’s carpet on the floor and it’s a step up from a Travelodge. Dad had booked two rooms, a family for me and the rents and a twin for my sister and Boris – I guess the horse has long bolted there!

We agreed to meet up for dinner about seven, time enough for everyone to shower or do whatever. I felt like a little kid in with my parents – I didn’t have a problem per se, I mean it saved booking an extra room, I just need to remember not to parade around in my scanties! I grabbed the bathroom first leaving the Rents to hang up suits and frocks ready for the morning.
 

The Hobbs Boat was a sort of homogenised country pub come restaurant with a menu where the nearest to British cuisine was fish and chips or pie and mash. The rest of the ‘traditional’ menu consisted of curries, burgers and pasta – could’ve fancied liver and onions or cottage pie but I was to be denied. In the end I decided on the lasagne, all the burger options seemed to have sickly ‘topping’s’ and the curry a chap on another table had didn’t look very appetising.

I think Boris was a bit bemused by the menu, after all when you are used to German eateries, the Hobbs menu was rather bizarre. In Germany if you want curry you go to a curry house and so on, the most exotic you might get is spag bol! I guess everyone found something to their taste and whilst a glass of wine would’ve been nice I thought lemonade might be safer.

"So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Juliette enquired as we waited for our desserts.
"Plan?” Mum asked.
"Yeah, you know, where and when?”
"The service is at eleven, half hour drive down, leave here at ten?”
"Eight o’clock for breakfast,” Mum suggested, "Give us time to get ready afterwards, don’t want anyone spilling food on their new frock.”
"Yeah,” I added, "Parents are such messy eaters.”

Jules nearly choked on her cola.

"You can go off people,” Mum suggested.
"But you love me really.”
"Don’t push it kiddo.”

Of course, as I’m bunking in with my parents I’ve got no chance of sleeping in.
 

"Boris,” Mum started when Dad headed off to the conveniences when we’d done eating, "Would you be okay to drive in the morning?”
"Of course, I said I would.”
"Thanks love, I think Dave might want a drink tonight and tomorrow, well you know.”
"It’s not a problem.”
"I’ll tell him later.”
"Tell me what later,” Dad asked arriving at that precise moment.
"Boris says he’ll drive us down in the morning.”
"Thanks son, I meant to ask you earlier, got a bit side tracked.”
"Well we’re going up to our room,” my sister announced, "I’m done in.”
"Everything okay?” Mum asked.
"Yeah, yeah, just a long day, this pair,” she tapped her belly, ”don’t make life easy.”
"Just wait ‘till their born.”
"At least I’ll be able to have a drink then.”
"Not if you’re breast feeding.”
"I hate it when you are right like that. Anyway, we’ll see you in the morning, Bo?”
"Goodnight everyone.”

The soon to be parents headed off.

"I guess I should get some sleep too.”
"Me too,” Mum agreed, "You need company Dave? I take it you’re staying for another drink?”
"I’ll be fine, you go on up with Gabs, I’ll just have one, i don’t want to be late myself.”

Not that I was keeping tabs but it was gone midnight when Dad returned to our room, if he made one drink last three hour’s he deserves a prize.
 

Breakfast, compared to the menu last night, was much easier to understand, in theory it was a choice between all you can eat cooked or continental style. I wasn’t really sure what to have, okay I’ll rephrase that, I wasn’t sure what not to have but in the end I decided to go full on cooked. It was served buffet style, get a plate and fill her up.

"What are these?” Boris poked at the browned trapezoidal lumps on the tray.
"Hash browns, you know, like Rösti but squidged together?”
"And this,” this time he pointed to a platter of black pudding, "I’ve never seen this before.”
"Black pudding, bit of a delicacy.”
"It doesn’t look like pudding to me.”
"Well I guess it’s actually more like a sausage.”
"And what makes it this colour?”
"It’s like blood and stuff I think.”
"Ah, Blutwurst!”
"I guess,” I allowed, "Tastes different though.”
"I will try some I think.”

Personally I can take it or leave it but I thought I should show some stiff upper lip so added a couple of pieces to my already heaving plate. Bacon, sausage, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried egg, toast, hash brown and the black pudding, definitely a full English breakfast. Back at the table Dad was already halfway through his selection, Mum and my sister having opted for a selection from the ‘cold’ buffet.

Oh yeah, Dad fessed up this morning, it was more than one and several of the more were spirits. He looked pretty good considering although I coulda done without the snoring bout at three o’clock.

"How can you eat all that and still look like a twig,” Jules rhetorically enquired.
"Her time will come,” Mum suggested.
"Until it does I’m going full speed.”
"You eating that black pudding?” Pater enquired.
"Help yourself,” I told him before turning back to my sister, "What about Boris, he’s like a kid in a sweetshop.”

The ‘kid’ returned to the table, his plate made mine look like a Weightwatchers® option! It wasn’t just more of stuff but he had scrambled eggs as well as fried, it looked like kidneys and I’m pretty sure there was a slice of haggis hiding on there too.

"Boris!” Jules started, "You’re not starved at home.”
"Coffee,” he mumbled once more departing the table.
"Leave the boy be,” Mum opined, "He’s a growing lad.”
"At this rate he’ll be as big as me,” Jules suggested.
"No chance,” I put in.
"Gaby!” everyone except Boris chorused.
"Did I miss something?” Bo asked with a cup of brown stuff that looked about as good as the stuff I had in Düssel yesterday.
 

Back in our room I did a quick change, well for once I’d planned ahead putting my hose and undies on earlier so it was a quick off with my T and skirt, on with the dress. I repacked my case before fixing my face, then Mum sorted my hair into something resembling looked after. I looked in the mirror again, I hardly recognised myself, somehow I look more, I dunno, adult, mature in a sort of classy way. I’m not sure the look really suits me but it felt appropriate for today.

"You got the car keys Dad?”
"What for?”
"I’ll go find the others and we can start loading the car.”
"Great idea kiddo,” Mum told me, "Dave?”
"On the counter.”

I grabbed the keys, extended the handle on my bag and set off for the lobby.
 

"Dad any better,” Jules asked as we sat in reception, Boris having been despatched to load the car.
"He’s had a shower, doesn’t look quite so grey now.”
"That’s good at least. I’m not looking forward to this.”
"Me either,” I agreed.
"We didn’t have to come.”
"Yeah right.”
"I didn’t say we shouldn’t’ve.”
 
Maddy Bell © 15.06.2023