The Great Grey Yonder

My word, it can rain on that west coast, can’t it. Right until midday. But, espying from our third floor balcony that it was turning slightly drier, we hung about no longer, and were soon joining the excited damp throngs at the Pleasure Beach. 
Och, there were sights aplenty (yes, the people), a trip on the underwhelming ghost train and the utterly over-whelming Big One. Yowza! And bloody hell, a genuinely scary finale - the Pasaje Del Terror. When the knifeman came along the corridor towards us and suddenly the lights went out… before flashing on to find him behind us…  I guess we’ve been missing theatre a bit.
So after that while the Mrs went to lie in the bath, I went to seek out a craft ale bar. Obvs. And I found one up the mean back streets, past huddled groups of beggars. Not theatre, it seems.