North Pier, Blackpool

Beck reckons this picture looks like it could have been taken a hundred years ago. Part of the reason I've blipped it, though, is because I waited for the little boy to come round on his scooter into shot again and I've actually managed to catch him in mid air as he went flying in front of the ice cream kiosk. We weren't regressing quite century-far ourselves, but we definitely spent the day indulging to the full in retro 70's-style holiday shenanigans. We stayed at the Sheraton ('Blackpool's Hotel of the Year 2003' declares the sign, proudly), where Beck had stayed with her grandparents as a kid (Herbert was a union man and they used to go up for the conferences) - luckily they've not changed the decor in the intervening period! Plus we accidentally got put down as B, B and evening meal and it would have been rude not to get introduced to our table (allocated for our whole stay) and indulge in a free prawn cocktail when the alternative anyway was trying to choose which of Blackpool's numerous chippies was not going to make us ill. We walked along the front, listened to an ace old geezer playing the Dambusters March (complete with sound effects) on an organ in the Sunset Lounge of the North Pier and, after our evening meal, we rode the tram up and down the Promenade to check out the illuminations (which were, to be frank, somewhat disappointing.) A jolly good time was had by all - though, to be honest, much of her parents amusement was completely mystifying to Katie, bless her (...Tom, who would have hated the whole thing, was luckily in Yorkshire doing the 3 Peaks Challenge for his Gold D of E...)

And a perfect excuse to indulge in my abiding love for Jethro Tull...