Tonnage

The final appearance of the Lost Impossimal tour finished in Cardiff with a superbly sunny day and an amazing appearance to boot at Castle Galleries in Mermaid Quay on Saturday. We arrived early so we could take a boat bus to the centre of Cardiff but having just missed the 10:30am slot decided instead to try the 45 minute bay cruise.

Little did we know that our skipper was a potential Rob Brydon tribute act who treated us to a very somber outward journey with a indepth narrative about coal tonnage, delivery and mine statistics only to completely change his patter as we approached the turning point.

"And here we have the White Water centre on the right, if you look to one side you will see people, tourists even enjoying a cup of coffee, or maybe tea, I don't really know if they are enjoying themselves I'm just assuming. You can see them smiling. Some of the lucky ones may have a fried breakfast whilst others have a nice little cake. I'd love a cooked breakfast myself but I'm driving the boat."

He went on...

"...and the water has been switched on, so if you all stand up you can see the white water. It's not much to look at I'll admit, it does see some action but not very often. Bit like me really."

Our skipper on the subject of pipes...

"it goes under that boat there, or maybe it doesn't. It's red any way. The pipe I mean and it comes out near those houses. They are not really houses are they, more like flats. Flat packed flats. Bit of an eyesore really."

He seemed to like the word really and his voice seemed to hang at the end of every 'really', we half expected a lush to creep in but we were disappointed and we made our way back into Cardiff Bay at an araf speed. See what I did there?

Next stop was the toilets, I was anxious, I didn't want a repeat of the naked men from last time so I gingerly opened the door and looked in. Empty. The walls were still paper thin and you could hear everything happening in the ladies from the mens side and I assume vice versa. It's a bit disconcerting at first because with the way it echos you assume the noise is from your side and then spook yourself when you realise all the cubicles are empty convincing yourself it's a phantom pooper. It's only when you walk around the toilets that your hearing adjusts and it all becomes clear. Suppose the gentleman that did come in as I was listening to one of the doors to check my theory was concerned, he certainly looked worried and nearly turned back but I made a quick exit to avoid suspicion.

So back to finishing off erecting the summerhouse whilst this sun lasts and enjoy Britains annual summer week before Autumn returns on Friday.

Todays blog was bought to you by Rain. Official weather of the Olympic Games.

 

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