The day after Xmas day I decided to take a jaunt to Weston-Super-Mare, to get out of the house and try and have a slightly better time than my last trip. That was back in August, when I failed to realise how far it actually was, had to leave the motorway early due to an anxiety attack (the first for a long time from motorway driving), and finally when I got to the beach, hoping to throw myself in the sea, discovered that all I could find was endless mud, a distant vision of the waves, and a blustery wind. That trip was made even worse, considering I got lost on the way back, trying to take the country roads, spending what seemed like hours trying to make it, finally, home.
This time the trip was better. The place was still covered in snow. There were far, far more people about than I expected. The motorway was fine. I didn’t really expect to be able to throw myself in the sea. I got a bunch of photos.