My Intent Was to Find a Bakery

But when I went off path, I found something so much better

My intent today was to find this bakery. I did a bit of research last night and found that Hills Bakery off of Oxford Street was regarded as the “best bakery” in Weston Super Mare, United Kingdom. The plan was to walk about 3 miles this morning to a neighborhood shop to pick up some sweets to share with my housemates. I figured I could get in some exercise early so I could appreciate the sugar later. Three miles, a bit over one hour back and forth. 8,691 steps round trip. That mileage was doable and the weather forecasted no rain, 53 degrees.

I grabbed my cell phone, a 20 pound note and my long warm coat.

I’m not a confident map reader, and I really wasn’t sure if I could get to Hills Bakery, but since Google maps was there to guide me, I was willing to give it a go. Yesterday I explored the area to the left of where I’m staying and landed upon chocolate box cottages surrounded by low rock walls and mature trees. It was beautiful; a neighborhood where I could picture myself living.

Today google maps told me to turn right.

I ended up walking on the sidewalk along one of the main roads in town. The Sunday morning traffic was manageable and I could still hear Springsteen playing out of my phone. I passed a woodland foot path, a private golf club and many retirement homes. Nothing too exciting. This place is fairly small, less than 84,000 people, so I wasn’t expecting a ton of action today. The map showed that the bakery was literally up this street and to the right. Not a difficult trip.

I randomly veered to the left, instead of keeping straight when I saw the sign for the “beach.” I had never seen the seashore in England so I figured, why not?

I turned the corner and saw the water of course, as well as a pier and some far off land mass (Cardiff or Wales, maybe? I have no idea). There were a few adventuresome people running on the promenade in shorts (!) and some others walking with their pets out of the parking lot. None of this surprised me — I saw quite a few dogs yesterday while on my exploration, so I figured this was a dog friendly little town.

What I didn’t expect was to see a sea shore filled with them!

Hounds, mutts, labs, doodles, poodles and probably some pure breeds in all shades of black, brown, and white. Big and small, wet and muddy, furry friends everywhere I looked, running up and down the seashore with pure pooch pleasure. Leashes were unlocked as soon as possible. Dogs were let loose along the low shoreline and they all gleefully took full advantage of their freedom. Everyone seemed to be on their best behavior.

This is Royal Sands/Weston Bay, a two mile stretch located on the Bristol Channel Coast in the south west of England. I had no idea this area existed before today, but apparently the dogs all knew.

I have two doggies at home in Los Angeles. I’ve only ventured to the dog park with one of them three times. Each time it was a nerve wracking experience for me. Frida the dog may have enjoyed it — it was hard to tell, but I was on edge the whole time; it was loud and chaotic and I was super anxious that Frida would get into a fight or run away or get some easily transmissible canine virus.

Royal Sands was definitely not like the Mullholland Drive Dog Park. Here were miles of calm clear water and slightly sticky caramel colored sand. People wearing puffers or walking jackets and thick soled shoes. It was quiet except for the sound of running animal legs and wagging tails, happy barking and humans calling out for their pets — “Buster, here!” “Come on girl.”

There were signs posted along the rock walls stating boldly, No Dogs Allowed From 1 May to 30 September Per The Anti-Social Behavior Crime And Policing Act Of 2014. But today, Sunday, October 15, the dogs were allowed here, and everyone knew it. There were also babies playing in the sand, children roller skating and scootering on the higher ground, humans holding hands with each other and so so many pups. Packs of people and canines living their best lives along the beach. The salty air was filled with unconditional liberation.

And I stood there in tears. Tears of happy. Happy that I was here, in England, in the middle of this random place, alone but not by myself, with dogs and with strangers who adored dogs. I cried tears of sadness for my late mother, who loved dogs as much as I do and who would have gone crazy to see what I was seeing — a pair of Jack Russell’s frolicking in the water right in front of me. And I cried tears of surprise, because this was something I never, ever would have dreamed of.

This detour took me about 30 minutes in a different direction. Into a direction that was so unexpected, so joy filled and so memorable that no IPhone photos could really capture what I was seeing. I was caught up in the action, in the moment, in what I was part of. I couldn’t waste the moment to unlock my phone to take a picture.

It may be clichéd, but when I spontaneously went off the path this morning, I landed upon something so much better — my imagination’s version of heaven on earth.

p.s. I did eventually find Hills Bakery and bought some yummy treats to take back to share with my new friends — a lemon curd tartlet, millionaire’s shortbread and a brownie with some cookie pieces in it. Total bill was 4 pound 15 pence. But truly, this morning was priceless.