I have distant memories of coming to Colwyn Bay on holiday when I was young. Sitting on the beach, and playing in the arcade on the pier, in between fish-and-chip suppers.
British Portraits, exhibited at Oriel Colwyn
Fuelled by a visit to Oriel Colwyn, a small photography gallery above Wales' oldest theatre, I came back yesterday. (Niall McDiarmid's timely look at Britain's diversity is currently exhibited.)
Just down the road there is a surprisingly well-stocked camera shop staffed by a chap who knows his 6x6s from his DSLRs (I'm in the market for both, but wasn't expecting to stumble across either on a small, sea-side high street).
The pier is now derelict, boarded up and bearing a sign: "dangerous building". But the place has a certain charm to it, and whilst many may deride the wind-farm out at sea as an eye-sore, I'm sure it's a lot less contentious than Hinkley Point, which has occupied a lot of radio time of late. That and grammar schools.
It's funny getting to know your own country again.
