The end is nigh

Hardly seems ten minutes ago that we were looking forward to the school holidays, the buzz was all about preparing for the annual pilgrimage to Disneyland and the kids had wound themselves up into tightly coiled springs of dynamic excitement. Now, we’re approaching the final bank holiday of the year, the weather’s been as predictable as any British summer and - incredibly - thoughts are turning to Bonfire night, Halloween and Christmas.

Today, we did a big cut of the lawn; big, because it seems at least two weeks since we did the last, so dreadful has the weather been. It’s taken our local painter - a goldmine of hard work and great workmanship - two months to get the house painted because of the continuous rains, and, as the season winds down we’re looking to see how the summer has helped Llandudno.

Initially, hotel bookings were up, mainly because the Euro was far too high and the dollar was silly. Everyone was talking ‘staycation’, as though this latest travesty of the English language was in any way meaningful. Of course folk have started fleeing for the Canaries and deserting these shores, or so we’re meant to believe. In fact, Llandudno has been heaving for the past several weeks. The Trinity Players - a concert party performance group who hold concerts every Wednesday evening to raise money for charity - have been sold out for the past two weeks, having had to shut the doors early because there’s literally no room inside. Cafes have been reporting record visitor numbers and the cash tills in the high street have been ringing merrily for at least three weeks. But all good things come to an end.

As the schools reopen, and the whining schoolboy, with his satchel and shining morning face, creeping like snail unwillingly to school begins his peregrinations back to the classroom, Llandudno assumes a new lease of life; quieter, more orderly, better sales, safer roads and free of kids. Oh, it’s not that we don’t like kids; it’s just that some parents don’t accept the same standards of behaviour that we like to think we do. But there’s more.

September is a wonderful month. Chilly mornings, warm afternoons, misty evenings; leaves turning to wonderful shades of ochre and fields acquiring a quilting of silver light dew in the dawn; evenings drawing in and the rustle of crackling leaves underfoot. The United Kingdom must be the finest place on earth to live: four widely differing and sharply defined seasons, each arriving just as we’re getting heartily fed up with the last. And Snowdonia is the most magical of places, second only to Scotland (well, we’re Scottish:-).

Amid all the doom and gloom about the economy let’s enjoy our corner of the world with all its stunning beauty and magnificence. And best of all - it’s free...