By way of introduction, have a read of Carving A Couch. This all happened over thirty years ago, and none of us had been back to that place, since. Until this week, when we found ourselves in the area, on another jolly. So much of this place was new to me. In fact, the only part I actually remembered was the pier and part of Sand Bay, where the couch was made. I remember the stone walls and some of the driftwood areas, but very little else.

As we approached, the walls appeared, and the smell of the camp fire came back to us. We didn't spend that long looking at it. I suppose we didn't need to. The stories have been told so many times, it's like we never left. We looked, by daylight, across the water, at the village of the glowing people, which turned out to be a dock. No magic was lost in this discovery. The glowing people would always be there, hiding among the shipping containers and cranes.

Although I'm not eating those donuts, ever again, the memory of their taste came back instantly, once I smelled them, and that was definitely good enough to complete the picture.

There, in the sand, we sat for a while, taking it in, until someone said "Chips?". We found a place almost immediately, such as the importance of the seaside chippy, and began making the hard choice between "chips" and "chip butties".

Weston's a pretty nice town, as it goes, and the beach was pretty empty, despite a nice bit of weather. I got a few snaps to share with you and a few for my private collection, and a good day was had by all. Weston, I can finally tick you off my return list. Thanks for the memories.