Sunny Clevedon again

We talked of an early start today for our trip to the seaside, but the 'best laid schemes of mice and men, go often awry' (Robert Burns), and ours were no different. The fine forecast turned out to be accurate, and my personal forecast of bad traffic was also right. I usually prefer to avoid travel at holiday times and today I remembered why when we hit motorway road works, jams and accidents on the M5 going south past Bristol.

We took an early exit and headed for the old road to Portishead, then on to Clevedon a favourite small coastal town. We even managed to find a parking spot close to the Victorian pier which we intended to visit, but a spell lying on the cobbled beach was required to relax in the hot sun. Woodpeckers had organised a delicious selection of picnic snacks of olives, oatcakes, taramasalata and humus washed down with old fashioned ginger beer.

The tide was out, and then turned as we sat staring out to see across the swathes of seaweed, with the pier standing proudly on its iron supports. Old sailing boats headed up the Bristol Channel regularly overtaken by large container ships heading for Avonmouth. South Wales seemed surprisingly close on the far side of the Channel and out to see the islands of Steep Holm and Flat Holm were swathed in mists on the horizon.

I did take some pictures of the pier, which is an obvious subject, but the bright light was quite harsh. When we finally left the beach to walk along the pier, it seemed even warmer despite the gentle breeze. We looked for the name tag marking the support Helena had given to the pier's restoration fund some years ago, but couldn't find it at first. There are many hundreds of these little plaques nailed to the wooden
floorboards of the walkway, showing how loved this classic seaside structure is. It was very busy with visitors of all ages and nationalities promenading as visitors have done since Victorian times.

Two fishermen with long rods suddenly became very excited as we approached, They managed to reel in a huge flat fish, and once landed, they held it up to the small crowd that had quickly congregated. The returned it to the sea about thirty feet below us after taking photographs and weighing it, the only fish they had caught all day.

We took tea and cake from the tiny glassed in pavilion sitting on top of the end of the pier. An elederly man told me my camera was too big, I need a small one like his, with which he assured me he filmed many UFOs. They are everywhere apparently. Woodpeckers wanted to go on the Poet's Walk at the far end of the bay, where an old church was sited atop the cliffs. I went for a stroll along the sea walls and watched the light gradually change with a view back across to the pier. A couple of small marine lakes have been restored allowing safe swimming even at low tide. The gulls seemed to be resting on the small walls, looking out to sea, until little squabbles erupted which might make them suddenly take flight. A lovely day!

ps
Woodpeckers has blipped a closer view of the pier from the beach.