Sunday, August 28

 
 
YEAR:  2022 | Tags:  | |
 
 
 
 
 

West Kirby, 17:20

 
 

Irma finds both the idea and the actuality of English seasides hilarious and they never fail to make her happy. Today we decided to build upon yesterday’s experience by taking a Merseyrail train to West Kirby, which I have also never visited since my days as a teenager.

We get there and walk around aimlessly until we spot the seaside at the other end of a road. We walk down and past a pool where adults and children paddle inflatable boards around one metre of water while wearing helmets. I deduce that the shallowness of the water means that they might bang their heads on the bottom if they fall in.

The tide has gone out and we can see sand for miles. Finland has little or no tides and the whole idea of the water completely coming and going every twelve hours delights Irma. I ask a lifeguard: the tide will come back in at 1 am.

We decide to walk out the two kilometres to Hilbre Island, which we can see in the distance. Shoes off and away we go. We pause every now and then to collect shells and take photographs. When we get there we find the sea still going out on the far side of the island.

As always, walking back will seem slightly less fun than walking out.

We will finish the afternoon watching the traffic from the roadside terrace of The Blind Pig: spelled Blnd Pg because it has no eyes.

Oh my sides!