When in Lowestoft...

....eat fish 'n' chips! We went to the Pakefield Plaice, renowned locally and open on a Sunday when most others are closed, and that gets my custom any weekend.

And what a view to admire. On a good day, it's the best.

Leandro, just a year old, couldn't get enough of his cod. He was stuffing it in like there was no tomorrow.

Gregor, as we are finding with lots of his foodie ways, takes after his father,

and firstly enjoyed his ketchup!

Alastair was curious to look at the horses clopping past, having been for a ride on the beach and going back to the stables next to his school.

And on the way home, something so very English.

A short respite, and then...

We are so far behind on this blog, but I have made an executive decision - which is chronologically anal, I know, but for now we'll pretend it's still mid June, the sun is shining, Louise just left, and, on a lovely Sunday afternoon, we went boating on the little lake in Kensington Gardens, a short walk up from our house.

Monday morning and Alastair was back at the Newberry Centre, awaiting his last appointment with Annie, the physio, before being discharged. Hurrah!

Back home and Gregor is up to his usual tricks. In this case he was using the washing line to see what gems he could suspend from it.

And then, what we'd all really been waiting for......Natalia and Leandro!!! Hurrah!!!!

Looking quite bright and bubbly and don't believe a word that the flight was a nightmare!

Louise's visit

At the end of May (yes, 4 months ago!) my long-lost and recently-found-in-Watford childhood friend Louise came to visit, with two little boys in tow. After our initial "blimey, how many years?" and "you look just the same...so do you" sort of opener, we all settled in and the afternoon was spent putting toys in front of the boys while we tried to catch up on the last 15 years.

Alastair was very happy to have new playmates in his bath. Gregor wasn't sure if Ollie was allowed to pull the cord. Hmm. Praps it's cos he's a Chelsea fan. Poor Ollie, he doesn't have a choice. Louise's brother Ebward (as he was called) was a mad Chelsea fan in the days of Ray Wilkins and Peter Osgood (and obviously still is). Louise - to be awkward probably - opted for Spurs and my team was Liverpool, though Emlyn Hughes didn't quite have Glen Hoddle's looks, I admit.

The next day we all went to our Africa Adventure wildlife park down the road. Gregor was happy to have Ollie's attention to show his favourite Rhino poo to.

The boys got on really well and raced around the zoo together inspecting everything. More recently Alastair has been able to share a lot more like this with Gregor and they muddle through at what's a more equal relationship than previously.

The lemurs are just great. The little babies cling to their mamas while they leap through the air from rope to rope. Here they were having lunch.

After the zoo, we took a walk to Pakefield, the village just south of where we live. It's a bit wilder there and the coastline has suffered the relentless battering of the tide over the centuries; the church is almost on the edge of the cliff today. However, the pubs are better, the fish and chips taste fresher and the shingle makes a welcome relief from the immaculate sand. Gregor thought it'd be fun to remove the specially laid path over the stones.

And Alastair quickly cottoned on and copied the game while Gregor sought more mischief with some old rope tying down a tarpaulin.

Meanwhile Louise and Ollie were skimming and throwing stones at the incoming tide, while Will may well have been feeling sea-sick by this point.

After all that activity it was time to go home and pack their stuff ready for the drive back.

What a lovely blast from the past propelled into now.