Nearly found myself on the front of the South Wales Echo last week.
Won’t be the first time, and probably won’t be the last, but I’d rather be reported for some good deed, than as an inadvertent Covidiot basking blatantly over Barry Island.
Only niftily nipped over there for a catch up and coffee with Cardiff’s coolest blogger but ended up knee deep in a crowd of thirty thou!
Jeesus Wept, did you see all the stuffed shared on the Socials. You couldn’t move for bikinis, Boofy’s queue, and Birmingham accents.
Even Prince William and his wife Kate got in on the act and popped down to our town today to see what’s occurring.
As for me I just sat in Marco’s, as many a day tripper trotted past to pick up an ice cream, just marvelling at the madness of it all.
And already writing that Barry Island blog in my highly creative head…of course.
My mind is constantly like that meme says – an internet browser with at least 19 tabs are open, one is frozen, and I have absolutely no idea where the music is coming from.
But I was quick enough to clock that Friday was no ordinary day tripper delight but more a tsunami of tourists from all over Wales, and well into England too.
Truth be told, I was also thanking my lucky stars that I’d nipped the trusty truck through the Waterfront way and parked in my secret spot.
By teatime, the roads were gridlocked, the trains were teeming, and there was even quite a queue at Cardiff Central as the naughty night crowd started making their way to the waves.
And then by Saturday they were gone – leaving loads of litter and the smell of sun tan lotion behind.
Christ, remember back in the day when people queued to get out of our then much beleaguered Barry.
And no one dared drive in did they, or they’d soon see their car nicked, their fun over, and a long walk home with the cranky kids ahead.
Our halcyon days aside though, I’m not sure whether, I welcomed seeing the beach busy, the traders topping their takings, and the businesses back open.
Or if I felt it was all a bit too much of a snap back to the old normal before the new one had managed to take a teeny bit of time to sink in.
I’m not going to lie to you, social distancing was scarce, masks were missing, and memories short to the lockdown life we had just emerged from.
So what do we social butterflies who crave connection and community do.
Lock ourselves in quarantine and become part of the isolation nation. Or take real responsibility for ourselves, and try to take baby steps into this brave new world.
I’m certainly not seeing my loved ones only on a screen, and I’m definitely not spending the rest of my career caught behind a computer. But I’m happy to take one for the team of greater good and not play too fast and loose with the rules.
Can’t see myself deep diving into the manic mosh pit this year, but loving the the occasional outdoor entertainment.
Won’t be rushing to a pub anytime soon, but loving all those long, outdoor lunch dates and cute coffee catch ups.
And sort of used to swapping late nights in the ‘Diff with even later ones spent in the garden with a few cheeky drinks, and even cheekier friends.
Being a bit selfish too if I’m honest. So don’t want Barry to go bonkers and lockdown come crashing down again.
Not sure I could stand another five months with only the telly and a teenager for company.
And the thought having a hair style that’s a mash up of Weller and Iggy Pop makes me break out into a cold sweat.
So, for me, it’s a socially distanced leisurely walk out of Lockdown, clutching my mask with those super sanitised hands.
You know it makes sense.
Sue Vincent-Jones, writing as Mrs SVJ, is a Barry born journalist, editor, and communications specialist. She blogs about Barry – and her life in the wider world, through the eyes of a, quirky and queer, local girl done good.