Scary clown men at the tower part 1

Last Friday myself and T went to Blackpool.

For those of you unfamiliar with this locale, it is sometimes called the Vagas of England, famed for not only it's tower (the rival of it's twin in Paris) but also the miles of golden sand and the opportunity to be parted from your cash by cynical amusement arcades.

It's also known far and wide as one of the only places in all the land that a motorist can loose his or her licence in one trip thru the town. This is because there are more speed traps in the town of Blackpool than there are in any two counties you care to pick.
I'll give you my theory why.
There really is no need for all the speed checks, most of which are baffling in there positioning. Most are fixed, but some are mobile and random, beware.
The only reason for the amount of cameras can be this, over the years the "carnys" have come to put down roots in the town and have mated with the indigenous population. But even after generations of watering down there carny ways and becoming locals themselves, taking jobs as bakers, doctors, policemen, town planners and local government councillors, they still can't help but rip the tourists off that flock to their damp patch of sand each year.
Not content with letting the carnys continue gouging the visiting public with the prices of admission for the rides and the candy floss, it would seem that the council are in on the act with there cynical income generation scheme done in the name of road safety.
Utter cobblers.

Right bijou rantette over. On with the show.

Having said what I've just said, I've always wanted to go to Blackpool and walk around, go up the tower and eat a bag of chips (fries for my American chums) at the end of a pier (either of the three), just bimble around looking at stuff.
I've been there twice before but both times was on a coach trip to see the lights when I was younger. By the time the snake of traffic you find yourself in gets from one end of the strip to the other it's time to go home, so no getting off and looking around.
Anyway I suggested to T that maybe we should take a trip to Blackpool to go up the tower and eat chips and do stuff.
Amazingly she said OK. So that was settled, now all I had to do was find somewhere that wasn't a B+B, wasn't full, was at least 2 stars and didn't want any body parts as a down payment and had a sea view. Piece of cake

WRONG!

I did eventually get us digs at a place called the Claremont, here's a little pic...
if you click on the pic for the larger view the place looks a bit run down and in need of a lick of paint, that's just Blackpool all over. Perks of being right next to the Irish sea and a lousy climate. That being said, there was absolutely no need for the owners of the hotel next door to perpetrate this monstrosity!

So we had a place to stay. The room was big by by British standards, sorry no pic, but the bathroom was a little on the snug side, sorry there is a pic this time...
And we had a sea view. I didn't bother wasting time taking a picture of that as it was difficult to tell what grey blur was the sea and what one was the sky. But who cares about the weather, I have T with me to lighten and brighten my day (something she does just by being).

We where a little early for booking in so we parked T's car and went for a stroll and to get something to eat. We walked towards one of the north piers, I thought it was the middle pier and T hasn't let me forget that I got it wrong. We found a pub that was roomy and did food, it was called The Counting House and so we had a drink and a veggie burger each, yes T's a veggie. As an ex-veggie I find it easy to switch back and forth and quite like the spicy bean burgers, I've even got some in the freezer most of the time.
But bloody hell the size of the bun! it was huge, well all I can say is that thanks to all that white bread I had the burps all afternoon, not that I need much help in that department.
The burger was to cause some problems later for both of us.

So a late lunch over, we decided to heave our stuffed carcases back to the hotel to book in and lie down in a darkened room while the burger got digested.
After we unpacked we had a little explore around the seafront and hopefully get to go up the tower...
A plan with only one drawback, the tower is closed on a Friday. I shit you not, closed on a Friday.
These gougers must be losing their touch. I was a little freaked out by the advertising posters for the show because it had these two clowns on it (pun intended)...
admittedly they're not as creepy as some clowns, but I still promised myself that if they came near me then the tower circus would be advertising for a new clown. These bastards don't scare me now, now that I'm all grown up, I can defend myself against these things.
Still they creep me out to the max tho'.

So no tower today, a shame but not the end of the world. We decided to mooch around on one of the piers, the middle one, I asked a gouger at his stall if we where on the middle pier and got all the sarcasm a body needs for one 24 hour period. I thanked him for his trouble and we went on our way.
T has a thing about going over bridges that go over water, it also extends to piers, as I found out when I pointed out that you cold see the sea through the gaps between the planks. Needless to say she didn't look down. Bless.

So we spent the rest of the afternoon mooching about the seafront on a grey day, walking around hand in hand. It may have been grey and cold in the real world but on planet Ed it was warm and sunny and butterflies and baby bunnies abounded. I am so loved up it's sickening.

So on our walk I took some pics and here they are;
the towns War memorial still dressed from November.

Middle pier, or is it North pier, ah well.

And this has to be, if not the biggest hotel in Blackpool, then one of them. It's like two blocks long. But a bit moth eaten, check out the roof on the right.