THE TIDE IS HIGH AND I'M HOLDING ON ...

...Until it recedes. No need for a detector this week!






Photographic image copyright HangingontoWaves

SIR ANTHONY HOPKINS & THE DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE WALK DOWN THE AISLES - SO WHO'S NEXT?

Bumped into Sir Anthony Hopkins in Waitrose at Menai Bridge last week ... 

Well okay, truth be told, I bumped into the shop assistant who bumped into Sir Anthony Hopkins in Waitrose last week – but I was still as amazed as she was, although probably for a slightly different reason.

It seems like only yesterday that one could find a parking space, no matter what the time of day, at the old Coop (Waitrose before the make-over) and that you could top up your tank next door at the little family run garage.

 Now it’s not that I’m complaining, I do honestly love the new-look gateway to Anglesey, but I do find myself reminiscing about a yesteryear that is barely twelve months old!

Take the Anglesey Arms for instance – what a transformation – and even the post office has gone posh! It’s all good stuff for the area, especially the influx of glitterati who are gracing the aisles of our supermarkets - but I do draw the line when it comes to one particular institution. I go so far as to say that I might even consider setting up camp in the middle of High Street and exercising my right to picket if the make-over-fairies ever attempt to get their hands on Evans Bros! 

GOOD LORD! HE'S AT IT AGAIN

Some people just can’t keep out of the public gaze (or is it a case of ‘you can run but you can’t hide'?) Lord Winnington (aka Mr Cragg) looks set to be telly bound yet again, which isn’t surprising considering the gift of a house that he lives in. No sooner has he waved goodbye to the Sky TV crew than our bon viveur is putting out the welcome mat again.

Merlyns has had more incarnations than Doctor Who and his lordship has been responsible for his fair share of them.  It’s the fab place that everyone wants to live in – conjures up all the adjectives: Large, white, airy, dreamy, loads of interior woodwork, period fireplaces, views to die for - very, very Victorian ... Do I need to go on? 

Yep! We’re all a little bit jealous if we’re to be honest, but we can live with it can’t we? We love him, Ian is our favourite philanthropist and his doors are always open, so to speak (especially now that he’s turned the place into an arty B&B).

The place is the perfect setting for anything you can think of: Summer School; Jazz on the lawn or opera on same, in fact any kind of artistic pursuit because Merlyns seems to have a natural dynamic all of its own.  It was once the childhood home of Sir Kyffin Williams, but strangely enough he wasn’t altogether happy in that particular paradise, the house seemed gargantuan to a little chap. It’s different now of course, there’s central heating and loads of hot water in the Welsh slate shower rooms - a far cry from pine wash stands and Pears soap.

So what’s this about the media? Well, here’s the thing ... Winnington’s not a man to rest on his laurels. He whipped up a pretty impressive art gallery a couple of years ago, which was followed immediately after the launch by plans to build a flat-pack house in the wood at the bottom of his garden (the fairies were all up for it) and there was some romantic talk about the reinstatement of the original 15^thcentury monastery fishpond as a wildlife lake.

Slow down ... Slow down. Surely to God, no-one can do all that in a couple of months, with only one male offspring? Of course they can – it’s Ian – he’s like that.

The building was up and running in just six weeks (awesome) but not without all the usual highs and lows inherent to this type of adventure:  Flooding trenches and bad weather; Depression-and-too-much-wine; Missing builders; Depression-and-too-much-wine; Beautiful staircase and fabulous kitchen; Delirious-relief-and-too-much-wine. Yes, it was heavy stuff and Sky tv were there. 

 But it’s all over now ... done with ... water under the bridge ... quiet evenings at the bridge club ... a laugh and a pint at The Bull and a stress free life ...

Well, actually, no. That doesn’t sound a bit like Winnington.  Word on the grapevine has it that there’s another tv programme in the offing: Different channel, different subject, same intrepid characters.

Can’t wait!

THE DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE SAVES ON ANGLESEY

Shopping in Llangefni just turned into something else this week. The word on the island is that Kate has switched sides and they even know about it in Menai Bridge – especially at Waitrose!

The Duchess of Cambridge is now shopping for the royal palate at ASDA(One in the bag for WALMART). Good Lord! The staff at ASDA are walking on air.

Watch out Waitrose!  

*Every little helps – even when you’re a Royal.

ROYAL PIER-AGE!

It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it. Grovelling in the mud beneath Bangor Pier, surreptitiously sifting through the detritus of past generations - love it. Not everyone’s cup of tea, I’ll grant you, but there could be anything buried in this oily slime: animal bones, bits of old pottery, mediaeval  artefacts, coins of the realm - literally anything and that’s the attraction, not to mention the peace and quiet ...  or so I thought.

“Hiya Barb ... what you doing down there?”

Terry Thomas’ smiling head was up there in the daylight. Squinting from the shadows I could just make him out, hanging over the wrought iron pier railings. I was going to say something sarcastic about having a picnic on the rocks and then I remembered that he was the proprietor of a little goldmine part way down the boards.  “Just coming up for a brew Terry,” I called back.

Wow! What a great surprise. I knew he had a little F&B business, and that it was becoming more established with every season, but this was better than I’d expected.

Of course the view along the Menai Strait is sensational in both directions, and the food (TT’s special pancakes, authentic Welsh rarebit, homemade Bara Brith etc; etc;) is everything that you’d expect, but I guess the real crack is all the goss – who’s been there, when, why and what they said.

SAYLE OF THE CENTURY?

“Alright then, what’s happening Terry?”

I was glad that I’d asked. It seems that Whistlestop-On-The-Pier has become the must- visit eatery on the North Wales coastline and it hasn’t escaped the attention of the rich and famous:

‘This is a favourite spot of ours. My wife and I come here not only for the views which are spectacular but also for the wonderful, authentic, Welsh rarebit, dished up at the pier’s Whistlestop Cafe. It's run by an ex-academic who used to teach at the University, and it's one of those places that's got that elusive something that always draws you back.’

Alexei Sayle. Beautiful Britain October 2010.

Can’t disagree with him really. My mate Terry is selling grub to the stars now – amazing. Just a week before the Royal “announcement”, last November, Terry had an unexpected visit. The pier was completely empty, not a person in sight when suddenly he noticed a solitary couple walking towards the Whistlestop. He watched them through the tiny gothic windows as they approached and as they drew closer it became apparent that the young chap was Prince Harry.

 “I couldn’t believe it when they came into the cafe,” he gasped. “I knew immediately it was Prince Harry. He had a very nice, dark haired young lady with him (TT wouldn’t say any more on the subject of the lady!) and they sat down to eat. She ordered a pancake and he had a Welsh rarebit. They chatted away happily and no-one was around to disturb them. When they finished eating they came across to pay and I just had to say something, so I casually asked ’Whereabouts  in the country are you from?’ and they started to giggle. The young lady pointed at Prince Harry and mischievously said, ’Oh, he’s from Buckingham ... shire!’ and we all burst out laughing. It was a lovely moment, then they thanked me, said good bye and left. ”

Great stuff Terry! Glad I climbed up for a cuppa. Running this little place atop the pier seems to be a bit like mudlarking beneath it – you never know what’s going to turn up!