Over Easter I lost my caravanning virginity and went to Bristol for a couple of nights.
Even though it doesn’t seem like they have any shops that you can actually purchase something or a fish and chip shop – it is an amazing place.
After arriving and setting the caravan up at around 12:15 I headed into the city centre – which is full of quirky university students and architecture.
After a Wetherspoons lunch (student budget) we sat looking out over the docks and other up market restaurants.
After exploring some more and doing your regular touristy things: eating ice cream, looking at the main points of interest and abolishing any sense of fashion by slapping sandals over your white socks the night was drawn nicely to a close with a BBQ over a game of cards.
DISCLAIMER: I did not, at any point, wear white socks and sandals on this trip.
I lost the game. And so the pattern continued. I had gone away with the intention of winning but this time out of about 30 games of cards between the four of us I’d say I won three.
This pattern would continue further when we went to play crazy golf the following day. Both the place we played in, Weston Super Mare, and my performance were grim.
We originally went to see if Banksy’s, Dismaland, was still there, it wasn’t. So we got a burger and played crazy golf.
Weston Super Mare is truly dismal. You have to pay to get on the pier which was obviously built when no one gave a shit about anything and every single sign for each restaurant is peeling off the dodgy brickwork.
The sea is brown. I thought that the wind from offshore was meant to do refresh you, no no no not this ‘majestic’ part of the Bristol Channel.
But what is there an equivalent distance from Bristol? the beautiful city of Bath.
We didn’t venture that way.
On the way back from Weston not-so-Super Mare we picked up some beers and chocolate digestive biscuits which are the obvious necessities you need for the final night.
We sped back checking over our shoulders to see if we had escaped Weston Super Mare’s capture.
That night, over some chicken, we decided to go for a nighttime stroll down the River Avon, through the town centre and to stop at The Pumphouse – a gin bar on the bank of the river.
We waled along the opposite side to where me and Lauren had the previous day. The lights from on the docks were magical.
There is train track where old steam trains would have ran. They are now used for a tourist steam train. How times have changed.
On one side you had modern apartments looking out over the side which was filled with historical importance with the docks and old factories which have been restored into museums or restaurants.
The gin bar fulfilled all exceptions. With Rock n Roll over the speakers and old rusted decor inside the place was perfect.
The barman clearly knew what he was doing – frozen rhubarb ice in the rhubarb gin. Frozen grapes in the grape gin – apparently this releases more flavour because some ‘white powder’ is released – sounds a bit dodgy to me.
Each piece of fruit was much more flavoursome. But that was probably more to do with the gin than the freezer.
After a couple more loses to the Pointon family over cards I showered and dreamt about possible tactics to win whilst sleeping.
The next morning, following brunch in a small cafe obviously aimed at students – our train was ready to board. We found a quiet carriage and my winning mentality was on show – loosing just two games.
The competition was taking its toll as my travel sickness started. Our train arrived at 3pm in Stoke we got coffee, which was the ideal end to a perfect few days.
Bristol truly is a must see city on anyone’s travel list.