2 Ladies Cycle to Rhyl
Today’s plan was to go for a gentle cycle along the coastal path to wherever it takes us. We have been told that the path is a good one; flat and well maintained. We do the usual thing of looking it up on google and find out what the nearest town is like. It is Rhyl and is only about 4 miles away – a total breeze on a bike.
The Google reviews are a bit negative though, and I am concerned to find that it is considered to be the poorest town in Wales and is where some of those hideous channel 5 documentaries are filmed including ‘Benefits Britain’. Other reviewers say unhelpful comments like ‘Rhyl should be blown up’ and ‘Rhyl is a total dump – don’t bother going there’. Now, Mel and I are not stupid, and we know that it is easier to complain rather than compliment but I couldn’t find one single positive comment and start to secretly hope that Mel doesn’t make it as far as Rhyl.
I make sandwiches and pack them along with a packet of crisps and plenty of water (for a change). I swallow some paracetamol in advance of my knee hurting and check we have money, tissues, and a jumper in our bags. We are on day 8 of our holiday and have finally learned to pack our rucksacks sensibly. Mel hasn’t filled hers up with just cake which is very impressive.
I unlock the bikes, we put on our helmets (safety first) and we set off. Actually, we get precisely 3 feet away from Ethel before I realise we don’t have the bike pump. I get off my bike, unlock Ethel and rummage, headfirst in one of the cupboards under the seats to locate the pump. As a bonus, I also found our walking poles which Mel thought we had lent to my daughter in law Elizabeth – clearly we hadn’t.
And then we are properly off. To get to the beach and the cycle path from the site, we have to go down a very steep hill and when Mel woke up this morning, she announced she wasn’t going to cycle down the hill as she dreamt she lost control of the bike and ended up going straight down the jetty and in the sea where she promptly got swept away. I did try to be understanding and sympathetic, but it was hard not to laugh. However, she was very brave and did cycle down it and I am pleased to say that she didn’t end up in the sea.
For once the warden had not lied and the cycle path was amazing. For the entire journey, it was next to the sea and the surface was brilliant and we were zooming along with Mel leading the pack. I have worked out that if Mel is in front on the bike, she goes faster which makes it easier for me. The only problem with this formation is that Mel has a habit of stopping dead without any warning leading me to having to do an emergency stop before I ram by bike up her backside. I don’t know how many times I have asked her for a warning that she is stopping but she never does.
Cycling gives you a different perspective of pedestrians and I soon learned to hate them. They are so thick. They don’t seem to see you until you are about to run them over and if you ding your bell, it creates total panic and they freeze in the way or, even worse and if they are in a group, they separate in opposite directions like sheep. This then means Mel and I have to make a decision on which way to go round them. Left or right, right or left? Which ever way we go, it is the wrong way. They then glare at us as if we are in the wrong and I learned to annoy them further by saying ‘thank you’ or ‘morning!’ in the breeziest voice I can muster. I would have preferred to use other words, but it is a Sunday morning.
We pause for a quick break and Mel realises she has lost her bottom protector. Despite the bikes having gel filled seats, we still find our posteriors hurting after a while and we purchased some additional padding which we fit over the seats. They reduce the pain to our seat bones a great deal. I do feel sorry for Mel but I don’t offer her mine though.
As we cycle, I notice that our surroundings aren’t as salubrious as they were. There are a lot of static homes and these seem to be permanent homes as opposed to holiday ones. The beaches aren’t as pretty as many others in the area and there is a lot of rubbish. The google reviews are popping into my mind.
We make it to Rhyl and then the real problem arises. Where on earth do we chain the bikes. We have e-bikes, and they were quite expensive, and I certainly don’t want them stolen. Google says Rhyl is a high-risk area so we need somewhere busy. We opt for a public place outside the cinema and after some clever work with D-locks and cables, the bikes are secured. I even took a photo of them so I can prove to the insurance company that they were locked up properly. At the same time, I am aware I am allowing myself to be swayed by a few reviews and I need to remind myself that most of the community here are nice people. I hope.
But I soon forget my concerns over the bikes as my eyes sparkle and I completely wake up. Across the road are lots of amusements. I love amusements. I can’t help but spend lots of money and if I were to have an addiction, I would be a gambler. I need Mel to stop me, to put limits on how much I can spend. I need a babysitter. It’s the lights, the noise, the absolute conviction that I will win. I am a total idiot.
But I don’t care, even when Mel suggests we aren’t crossing the road in the safest place. I charge across as if I am being called to worship. And I’m in. But stop. Something is wrong here. Yes, I quickly lose £10 in an OXO fruit machine – normal. But Mel is obsessed with the 2p slider machine – not normal. She is determined to ‘win’ a frog and a snake – both of which are worth exactly 30p each. She does get the frog after spending about £6 but she is like a crazed drug user and won’t stop until she gets the snake. I try to help by giving her some more money. I try to hurry her by leaning on the glass of the machine looking bored. I try to convince her of the futility of the game – particularly as the snake has its head wedged between the shelf and the glass but there is no stopping her. She is possessed by some slidy, 2p headed monster. How do I get her back?
Fortunately, she eventually runs out of money, and I refuse to give her more, and instead throw her the possibility of ‘shopping’. The bribery works, and unhappily she gives up and off we go.
As we leave, I glance across the road, trying not to look too obvious and I am relieved that the bikes are still there. We walk towards town just as about 20 Hells Angel bikers turn into the carpark and park up right next to our bikes. They are so cool; they even stop the traffic so they can all enter at the same time. They are hardcore; no-one is going to touch our bikes.
As I had promised, we head into the town, and I am pleased to report that Rhyl is a nice town and much better than Holyhead. Mel nips into a couple of charity shops and ‘snake-gate’ seems to recede. But now we need a wee. We find the loos and are shocked that once again we need to pay for the privilege. I don’t know why we are shocked at it was the same in Holyhead, but we beat the system there as we put our 20p into the slot and then both sneaked in together. We bravely flouted the law and won.
But in Rhyl, inflation has clearly hit, and the price of a pee has risen to 30p. We are quietly discussing a similar arrangement as in Holyhead, when a little window opens, and a man speaks. There will be no law-breaking here and we had to pay a massive 60p – to get value for money, I made sure I used lots of loo paper.
By now we are getting hungry and although I would have preferred to eat at MacDonald’s, I had made such a fuss about packing a picnic, I knew we would have to eat it. We can’t find any seats and so end up perching uncomfortably on a wall. I had managed to find the one flower border in Rhyl which held the most prickly plants in the world. Clearly the sole aim was to stop people sitting on the wall.
My fantasy of a romantic picnic on the seafront in the sunshine soon disappears due to the constant fear of being attacked by seagulls which are as big as dinosaurs. We were surrounded. They were everywhere. I hate them. Their eyes eminate evil, and I am sure they intend to rip my face off. Mel thinks they are quite cute. I try to like them but fail and eat as fast as I can. Poor Mel probably ended up with indigestion as I was so desperate to move. Neither of us drank much of the water.
The cycle home is pretty uneventful although a lot of the journey is spent scouring the verges for the missing bottom protector – unsuccessfully. Mel kept standing up on her pedals, which I took to mean that her bum was screaming for respite, and I continue to thank the idiotic walkers. Mel still stops dead in front of me, but despite this and her bottom, we arrive safely looking forward to a lovely cup of tea.
2LadiesTravelling 