Another 30 degree scorcher today, as the sun gets it all out of its system before 4 July.
Brought up on songs from Lou Reed, the Ramones and, er, Van Morrison, Coney is a less classy Blackpool, which is a very
bad good thing indeed. No one actually stays overnight in Coney though.
Most people visit Blackpool for the craft beer pubs these days; most New Yorkers visit Coney for Nathan’s hot dogs. I don’t queue more than 10 minutes for a hot dog though.
Since I got back I’ve watched the complete Mr Robot on Amazon Prime; I don’t remember passing the HQ of F*** Society last year.
The walk down Mermaid Avenue, home to Woody and Billy, is quite “exciting“, but Mrs RM and I chickened out of the rollercoasters and instead got p****d in the eponymous brewpub.
I only knew that as I heard Matt say “Mum, you’re p****d” ten minutes later as we met up again on the beach, loaded up with pizza, curly fries and a cup of lovely Brooklyn Summer Ale from Paul’s Daughter.
“DAD, DAD IT’S ILLEGAL TO DRINK IN PUBLIC THEY’LL SHOOT YOU !!!”
Now I know what “Breaking the law” by Judas Priest and “Strong arm of the law” by Saxon were about; blissfully ignorant Brits drinking beer in public places.
NB Did the announcement yesterday mean we can drink on the pavement over here ? Someone will know.