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If you happened to wake up in a shopping mall, apart from the regional accents, you wouldn’t be able to tell if you were in Birmingham, Wrexham, Nottingham, Tottenham or cheese and ham. So Christmas in any given Town or City in the UK is pretty much the same scene. I suppose this is what people want, this uniformity, standardisation, this familiarity gives them reassurance, they know where to que, where to sit, what to order, how and when to pay, they have discovered a comfort zone, they have memorised the script, robots trapped in a perpetual, mundane existence.
Christmas in places like Borth, of course, are completely different, no sign of Frankie or Benny anywhere, instead is Uncle Alberts Emporium, Remember This, the nostalgia shop, where I wonder if anything is actually for sale or is it just a labour of love, a museum of weird and wonderful artefacts from recent history, the wedding dress shop, I’ve never seen it open, I’ve never seen anyone in there, but like the miracle of Christmas in Borth, the mannequins, like headless actors in a never ending play, seem to change into ever more garish and weird but wonderful wedding tackle. I noticed yesterday that the window is now framed with the most basic and sparse of xmas lights, an attempt to make the mad mannequins even more glamorous? Borth truly is unique.
If you don’t fancy battling through the throngs of xmas shoppers on Borth High Street, you can always take a walk on the beach, and WOW! What a beach it is! I walked it a few days ago, it was around 9am, the air was crisp, the sky cobalt blue, the sun hung lazily and low in the sky, Jack Frost had paid a visit, the sand was frozen and shining like a little girl had decorated it all with silver glitter just in time for Xmas. I was the only one there, alone with my thoughts in that vast expanse. I thought of you, and how you would so quickly swap your concrete and plastic, your standardised cities, your exhaust fumes, your alarm clock, your order and structure, for the beautiful chaos of Barmy Borth.
Many of us have been in a similar situation, you’re out for a meal or just in the town doing the weekly shop and you need a drink. So, you buy a water and finish your drink but then you’re left with the empty and usually plastic single use bottle. Today, our minds think about how this bottle will be recycled or do we reuse it ourselves?
The route is always the same, but the destination invariably different.
I don’t know if its just me, but walks are great! I always have fond memories of family holidays that are made while on these walks. The first that always comes to mind is when the whole family were walking about 3 miles to a beach where you could watch the seals play in the crests of the waves and I fell over practically nothing (I am a little bit clumsy on my feet), but seconds later we were all practically wetting ourselves with laughter. Even writing about it now, almost 10 years later, I have a big grin on my face and feel a nostalgia for home.
If you have a question, would like a brochure or more information, or would like to make a booking, then either email or call us – we would love to introduce you to the joys of a Searivers holiday experience.
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