Sometimes you shouldn’t go home

For day 17 of #blogjune, going home…

I think it was our second day in Wales when we decided to drive from Portmeirion north through the mountains to visit Colwyn Bay, the town I was born in.

We migrated to Australia when I was just a few months old (which is why, I regret to say, I don’t have a Welsh accent) but we went back for a family holiday when I was aged seven and I still have strong memories of riding on double decker buses on the narrow roads, playing in the penny arcade , and buying Galaxy chocolate bars at the Woolworths store in town.

Sadly the town today is quite, well, sad. A motorway has been ploughed through cutting off the town from the coastline – we tried to walk to the beach to find the pier and gave up. The town itself is lively enough, but a bit forlorn compared with its neighbour Llandudno just up the coast. In need of a toilet, we ended up in a depressing shopping centre full of bargain shops. My souvenir of Colwyn Bay was a packet of zip bags from Pound Stretcher – to be fair, they were actually quite good zip bags.

I was looking through my photos when I got home and wondered what this was, and then realised it’s the only picture I took of the town where I was born – the street sign from where we parked the car in case we got lost.




4 responses to “Sometimes you shouldn’t go home

  1. strawberriesofintegrity

    Sometimes you have to go to know…. Xx

  2. Wayne Davidson

    And we were served by “Shaz” at Pound Stretcher. So that was something.

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