Torquay was different. Firstly it’s down south. Secondly, Ren and Soulsy joined Paul and me on this day. They couldn’t do the other days due to money and work. I went to school with all three of them. I sat next to Ren in English so I got to know him well. Paul was in the other half of the year, it’s only when we met at college did we actually talk to one another. Soulsy was in the year below. I met him a house party back in 1998. I was working for Nintendo at the time and he asked me about Zelda on the Gameboy. It’s funny how friendships start. Ren and Soulsy are obviously not their real names but it’s how everybody knows them. Along with Dave, these boys are my regular mates. We do a lot of stuff together. Just us. Just the boys. We tend to get very pissed.
Anyway, enough about all that. I’m sure you’re not really interested in my background. On with the report!
Here we are on the way to Torquay. It’s about 130 miles, 2.5 hours from Southampton. Ren is the one behind me, Soulsy is behind Paul.
Lovely weather and a lovely drive.
We saw a random elephant thing on the side of the road. Looked like a slide to me. I did see signs for Crealy, so perhaps it was for that?
Eventually we arrived. Torquay is part of Torbay, which is named as the English…
(Crap camera, says ‘Riviera.’) You’ll see why it’s called that later on.
The four of us had been to Torquay before in 2005 and 2007 so the town wasn’t new to us, but as it’s such a nice place, we’ve decided to head there every few years. Our first stop was the pub we like to call the “piano bar”.
The Piano Bar (don’t know it’s real name!) is a typical English pub inside, but the outside is themed to an American bar but not in a tacky way. There are waterfalls, decking and all sorts of sports memorabilia. This piano opens up to become a bar!
Ye-hah Yankee seats.
“Hello, this is New York calling.”
There are fibreglass life-size models of the Blues Brothers, Elvis and several other American icons around the place.
Anyway, down to drinking…
…or playing FlightControl on your iPhone. That’s all Paul did when we were at the pubs. If he can’t drink or play a fruit machine, he gets bored. He is a good talker if you get him on a subject he enjoys, but otherwise he has to fiddle.
More drinking. Yes, that is the theme.
We decided that a bit of crazy golf was in order, so we set off to the waterfront. Stunning views.
“I’m Tiger Woods!”
“No! I’M Tiger Woods!”
The four of us play crazy golf regularly. We play it for money, pints and sometimes just for fun. We have our own way of playing. Each player attempts at finishing the hole before the next player starts. We always seem to end up twirling the clubs, swearing loads and saying “I’m Tiger Woods” on every shoot. Well, Ren and me do.
We also have a six-stroke limit. Anymore than six strokes and it’s known as a **** (rhymes with ‘bank’) and it gets marked down as a ‘W’ on the scorecard.
Soulsy takes it very seriously. By nature, he’s very competitive when it comes to beating the rest of us at anything. Be it cards, crazy golf, pool, computer games, he
has to win. Perhaps it’s because he’s a year younger and feels like he has something to prove? Who knows, but it’s one of his greatest character strengths and I find bouncing off him brings the best out in me. He here is sweeping the course so his ball doesn’t go off-track. :roll:
“I’m Tiger Woods”
This hole had loads of mounds! We all love the mound and we always try to see who is the best at conquering the mound.
Paul’s mound-conquering skills were not with him on the day.
Soulsy being a berk once again.
“I’m Tiger Woods!”
Here are some palm tree things that look like they could do with a bit of water. The glorious sunshine probably didn’t help their cause.
We take it in turns to score, just in case Soulsy decides to alter it :lol: “Never trust a man with a beard” my Nan used to say.
We got back to the car and Ren accused Soulsy of fixing the scores. Usual ten-minute argument breaks out. How dare he!
I interjected by reminding them that it’s only a ****ing game and the arguing is chewing up into our boozing time and for a peaceful life, I declare Soulsy the winner and he shuts up.
Paul actually won, Soulsy came second, me third and Renny Boy last, even though I had the most W’s!
Time for some more beer and some food. We headed to the town centre and parked up. **** me, look at this…
Gorgeous, isn’t it? Pisses all over Blackpool!
“I’ve got a great idea, lets get a cheesy group photo!”
This is why Torbay is called the English Riviera. There are not many other coastal towns in England with such a cosmopolitan yet historical, affluent, luscious and picturesque feel. In fact, I’d probably say that Torbay is at the top of the premier league. No matter how hard Blackpool, Skegness, Great Yarmouth or Bude try, they’ll never match this. Never.
We headed into the town centre. It was a Wednesday night so it wasn’t packed out but certainly busier than Blackpool – and people looked happy! This is the main shopping area. Same old shops as you find in any High Street, but I like the curving white buildings. Very nice.
We ended up at a restaurant called Camelot…or “Eatalot” as Paul calls it. It’s a medieval themed restaurant where they serve whole chickens on metal plates. Eating with your hands is optional.
Here we are waiting for our grub. Yes, Paul is still playing FlightControl.
Even though the restaurant was half-full, we had a longish wait. At least we knew the food was being freshly microwaved. I popped out for a fag.
Paul had wedges & wings for his starter…
…and a whole chicken for his main.
Soulsy opted for a steak. Ren and I went for the ribs.
I thought the food was poor. The ribs were too chewy and dry. The chips were not fluffy enough and the salad was limp. I did complain and handed mine back. It was terrible. Soulsy said his food was poor but he didn’t complain as he was starving. On the flipside, Ren really enjoyed the ribs and Paul demolished his grub with enthusiastic gusto. Still, my pint of Carlsberg tasted ok. I guess the place is hit or miss, or depends on your palette.
Bear this in mind if you head to Torquay…
If you’re begging in the first place, somehow I don’t think you could afford a £1,000 fine. Still, not once did I see a tramp!
This conservatory style building is a trendy plastic bar, a Walkabout I think. I very much doubt that was it’s original use.
Breaking from tradition, we went to a poncy wine bar.
Ren and Soulsy had a Japanese beer. I opted for a German one in a long glass. Very refreshing it was, too!
The theme of this day out seemed to be “Deal or No Deal.” Every time a woman walked past, it would be “deal” if they were fit, or “no deal” if they were rank. We started off being quite discreet about it, yet the more drunk we became, the more vocal we were.
Soulsy spots a “deal.”
Then a “no deal.”
By now Ren was quite pissed and got “arty” with my camera.
Soulsy and I decided to mess about…
…as Paul and Ren looked on disgusted.
We enjoyed a few more beers by the waterfront. Very cosmopolitan. Loads of outside drinking areas, no rowdy chavs, just plenty of relaxed people enjoying a quiet beer on a sunny evening. There were plenty of foreigners about visiting. A load of school groups and everybody was well behaved.
Time was now against us so we went back to the car. Why does Ren look coy?
Ah, I see why…
And then we left Torquay, hitting a few remote pubs on the way back home. The camera was put away for this part. After all, we were quite drunk and the four of us wanted to just enjoy ourselves. Boys will be boys and there are some things we do not like documented!
So that concludes my little trip to some of the big destinations in the UK. At the end of the day, I’m a southerner and always will be. I do like the north and I enjoyed my time up there but I wouldn’t want to live up there. I’m sure northerners think the same about the south. I found people are friendlier up north and have more time for one another but the south is my home. It’s where my roots are and it’s where I want to continue to grow.
Oh, if you’re wondering if we saw any chipboard in Torquay. Of course, we did…
But at least it was on a “Gold Shop!”
:beer: