We tried out the new Hollywood Bowl up at Westwood Cross on Friday (Bryan and I went up with my mum and dad). My word, it’s big. Debenham’s wasn’t my “go-to” shop for pretty much anything, but I wondered what would happen to the building when the business left it behind. I don’t know what, if anything, is being done to the top level, but Hollywood Bowl has redesigned the ground floor brilliantly.
It’s loud and bright, but if it was as quiet as a church hall, we’d have a problem – or I’d need to get my hearing checked. We played three games, and it was a lot of fun. Although I was a bit intrigued by a family who arrived as we were on our second or third game, but abruptly disappeared and left an entire game unplayed. Being a writer of fiction, I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to them; I’d decided that they had been abducted by aliens before I began to wonder that I was spending a little too much time thinking about them.
I wonder how Bugsy’s in Cliftonville will cope with the competition not too far away. I’ll be honest, there’s something about Bugsy’s I like, and while I don’t have anything against Hollywood Bowl, I’d be just as content jumping on the bus and going over to Cliftonville just as much. That said, there were a lot of arcade-style games at Hollywood Bowl that Bryan is just itching to try out, so once I’ve saved up a bit of cash, we’ll pop back and give them a go.
I found myself saying to Bryan recently that I remembered when Westwood Cross was nothing more than Pearce Signs and the old Co-Op hypermarket. My paternal grandparents lived up that way, so I knew the area well, and almost every part of the area has changed. I don’t say that as a bad thing, as I’ve made full use of Westwood Cross over the years. I’ve been to bingo, visited the cinema, gambled at the casino, and went for my first covid vaccine at the old Saga building at almost precisely the same time Boris Johnson came to visit. Not exactly a claim to fame, but near enough.
I even went into the office this week, with my dad taking Bryan to holiday camp (and pickin him up, thank heavens). I find myself enjoying the train journey, as I can work on some Duolingo or just read. Even when there are some eccentric characters on the train (and yes, I could charitably include myself in that category), I can usually just tune them out – UNLESS THEY’RE TALKING ALL FULL VOLUME TO SOMEONE SITTING NEXT TO THEM OR WHO ARE TALKING ON THE PHONE, which is when I find myself getting a bit tetchy.
I’ve been on trains travelling with carriages full of football fans, watched people eating almost a three-course meal out of various-sized Tupperware boxes, and listened to a chap playing the violin on a tube train once before swearing at anyone who didn’t put at least £1 in his donation tin. That included me, so I can remember it particularly clearly. Not being a car driver, I rely on public transport, and you certainly do meet life in all its various forms. I suspect using public transport has pushed Bryan towards becoming a car driver later in life.
I’m keeping a close eye on the weather, as next weekend, I’m due to take Bryan up to London for a day to do Go Ape at Battersea Park. But can you guess which solitary day is currently forecast as being rainy and windy? Yep, you got it; the day we’re going. Hopefully it’ll change, or we’ll have to change our day again.
The summer holidays are a time I cherish. When Bryan first came home, I had eight months off work on paternity leave, and that was lovely. We really got to bond, and I loved it so much. I enjoy work, but I also enjoyed that opportunity to get to know my son. The summer holidays are a nice blend for me; making a contribution to work, and also having a connection with my brilliant son.
Happy days.
Westwood should never had been built in the First place-All the nice atractions that were in the towns loads off nice shops and cinemas. And bowling -BUGSYS AND There was another behind Morrisons in Margate. No thanks to this council.
I do hope you open Brysn’s eyes to the benefits of public transport.
More cars on the road we do not want.
And I have to say that on the many, many bus and train journeys I take, almost everyone is “normal”.