Goodbye Timbertop Aparthotel. I suspect I will never stay in your racially segregated apartments again. Given that my parents live only ten miles away and I can stay there for nothing. And also given you are in Weston-Super-Mare, a place I can't imagine that I'll ever want to stay in again. But never say never.
I was tempted to take a little walk around Weston this morning to see if the shops still looked as grand as they used to, and to check out if the toy shop that I used to love was still there. Was it called "Timmy's" or "Tiny's" or something altogether different. It was definitely neither of those two, but though the name is somewhere at the back of my mind it refuses to come forward. I don't suppose my mind ever really thought it would be called upon to remember that information, so felt it was justified in sticking it at the bottom of one of its mind drawers. And now I've requested it, the numskulls of my brain are frantically searching through the drawers in the vague hope they might chance upon the info. Let's see if they find it before the end of the entry.
I wonder if I would get as much pleasure looking round that shop now that I am 37. I worry that I might find it all a bit childish. It's where I bought my Hornby train set, as well as my Hugo which was a kind of puppet that you could stick different disguises on and also a tub of green slime. I can remember so many things clearly about the place and yet its name continues to dance around the periphery of my memory, not stopping long enough for me to read it.
In any case I chose to drive home. I had seen enough confusing sights already. Weston tech, where my sister used to go, is in my memory, a sprawling vast building, but it isn't far from the aparthotel (though it's called something else now) and it is disappointingly tiny in real life. I'm not sure my brain could cope with the inevitable disgrace of having so exaggerated the pomp and importance of this place.
So I got in my car and drove away.
Nope the numskulls have not done their job.
I have been asked by Timbertop Aparthotel to make it clear that the name of their business has nothing to do with segregation at all- it is just the word apartment and hotel joined together. I realise that this is probably apparent to most of you and that my comments are intended as a stupid joke, but Timbertop get a lot of international clientele who might not appreciate my pathetic humour, so I want to make it clear that the Timbertop Aparthotel does not segregate people by race or attractiveness. It is a charming hotel with a friendly staff and it does a great breakfast. If you are every unlucky enough to be forced to spend any time in Weston-Super-Mare then I would heartily recommend this hotel. Staying there is in my opinion the most pleasurable thing you can do in this unusual seaside town. 
