The day of being underwater

This morning I woke up to a changed landscape. Scotland had finally achieved independence and had floated away into the North Sea, Wales had migrated to warmer waters and England had a new wet room to be called "Cornwall". I think to protect against future sea level rises I will spend my pocket money on the penthouse of the "Lipstick" #1 Gunwharf Quays, a snip at only £4 million, but 100 metres above the ground.
Again, like last week, it was obvious that Wednesday park was a nono. Well, it had stopped raining but the ground was waterlogged so Jof thought Pirate Pete's would help.

There were only 2 others there - Jack and Lily, a pair of reception years from my school. We stayed in the kiddie area and built dens and threw the surprisingly hard giant lego around. Then I sat in the ballpit and filled the gently sloping exit tunnel with as many balls as possible, as you do.

When my time was up, we visited the hovercraft landing zone just before one took off. The viewing terrace is a wind tunnel at the best of times, today it was difficult to make my way along it.

When the hovercraft tried to take off it blasted stones and shells and spray against the wooden cladding of the pier and I got a bladderwrack in the face. You can see the airborne debris and the exact moment when we quoted Monty Python "Run away! Run away" and bounded off like wind-assisted lunar astronauts.