Walking back to the Bristol after our evening meal at the Gibraltar Arms just felt so relaxed (compared to how life can be in the UK with police sirens and noise all over the place); and it was one of those really starry nights that always add something special. It would become our custom to have a night cap in the Bristols own bar at the end of each day and to talk about what people wanted to do the following day which is where we headed to; as the week rolled on the girl behind the bar soon got to know our order for two red wines and a couple of coffees for Joe and me and more or less got the kettle on as she heard us approach.

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With the following day being Sunday everyone still felt they wanted to spend a bit more time relaxing and chilling around the pool during the morning (except me of course) and so I decided I would be going walkabout around the back streets although my plans are always a work in progress. The fact that I may plan to go to a particular place means absolutely nothing because (as previously admitted) I’m quite easily distracted and could end up anywhere – and very often do.

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In the morning after a (wonderful) second night sleep I woke up with an acute awareness that our week on the Rock was starting to go past too quickly for my liking and so I shot out of bed into shower, powdered my nose and hit the breakfast bar. At some point we all ended up breakfasting together although I’m not a big eater first thing in the morning. Carol, Sheila and Joe had brought down their towels, kindles, books, flannels and related paraphernalia ready for a morning of slobbing by the pool – I had what I stood up in. 

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After a couple of coffees and a yoghurt I left the others stoking up on copious amounts of toast and jam, cereals, fruit and whatever else wasn’t nailed down after which no doubt they would lie down horizontally all morning on their sunbed before wondering where their bout of indigestion came from around lunchtime. I didn’t need to witness that sight today because I was sure at some point we would be going up the Rock to see the apes 🙂 Meanwhile for me it was out the door to discover places ‘Where no man had gone before!!!’. Sorry about that…my birthday is May the Fourth (be with you); and anyway even if I had seen it all before I wanted to see it all again.

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With no particular plan in mind I set off and within a few minutes found myself back in the Piazza nosing toward Irish Town; something was telling me it was a good place to start and I also had a driving urge to see if I could find that little shop where I had Benita’s first frock made before she was even born (see2:52). 

By now I’d already been taking a few photos of my walkabouts for my Twitter page and noticed they were starting to be enjoyed by a few local people so I thought I’d continue the trend. I turned down into Irish Town, walking slowly down the empty street to soak up the memories of forty years previously. Today it was very quiet with only a few people about which really suited me well because I just wanted to look around in my own time; in its day however Irish Town was very much a social and business hub even as recently as the seventies. 

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I remember a restaurant down there where I took Carol for our second wedding anniversary (which was on 19 December 76) and we first tasted (what we thought were very extravagant and posh) swordfish steaks. Whenever I have them now it mentally takes me straight back to Irish Town. As I looked down the street I wondered if that restaurant with all the chairs stacked up outside waiting to open up was the swordfish one.

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Sadly although I walked up and down a couple of times I couldn’t find that little corner shop where I bought Benita’s frock; I guess I’ll just have to (book a flight and) come back again one day and make it a priority 🙂

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