Following on from the Sonic BBQ and Flaming June posts, I know you'll be anxious over developments in this area. Well, sad to say, Sonic BBQ1 is no longer with us. The pictures say it all really, so let's not dwell thereupon.
The good news is that a new era is upon us. A Christmas gift that lay dormant lo, these past seven months, waiting for the Right Time. That time is now dear reader, and so I present to you the ultimate 2-person al fresco art-statement, the future of Le Charcoal Briquettes Stylistique: Sonic BBQ2.
I'm happy to report that SBBQ2's first foray into fine-dining was quite simply the best Ive ever tasted. Plus, apart from transforming everything from lamb-chops to quorn sausages into a Michelin-starred fine-dining experience, this is one goddam great-looking piece of equipment. Salut!

Hello again funkateers. Just back from a week away, five nights of which were spent in sunny (until I got there that is) West Wales. Overcast-ness ensued until Tuesday last, when the sun shone gloriously as I took my place in an 8-mile tailback on the M56 on the way back to Chez Sonique.
As you can tell, I'm veering perilously close to Complaining About The Weather territory, so I'll digress with a couple of travel-tips for anyone finding themselves in the vicinity of Tywyn over the summer period.

First is the 'Groovy' new Surfer-type shop, 'The Rise', which I mentioned last time I returned from these parts.
Paid a first visit and ended up buying some Top-Notch sonic footwear, picured.
Nice shop, though how well it will fair remains to be seen. All being well, it'll be the linch-pin that elevates Tywyn to the status of Surf capital of Wales.

A regular feature of my Welsh jaunts are daily lunchtime sessions in The Dovey Arms in the nearby seaside town of Aberdovey, a place largely untainted by the onward march of Time. In the good sense.
The Guinness is ice-cold (if you wish it to be) the lunch menu hits the spot, and the teen bar-staff are great.
The Landlord however, is the title-holder for the past several years of The Most Miserable Landlord in Wales award. Takes years of study to attain this, and you can tell that this guy is a solid grafter. From the minute you approach the bar, his pained facial expression tells you in no uncertain terms that you're about to impose on his precious time.
Someone should tell him that 'Yes, can I help you?' is an entirely inappropriate line of enquiry for someone working behind a bar, more suited as it is to the staff of Grace Brothers or a TV repair helpline. For me, he could explore that classic 'What can I get you squire?' route to customer approval a little more. Still, these are minor points.
Aberdovey beach is part of miles of unspoilt coastline, and an ideal spot for us neurotic, bent-out-of-shape, emotionally-fried city folk to come and reinvent ourselves over a long weekend.

The scene earlier this evening, after a day of sunshine and good times. The more superstitious amongst you will be encouraged to learn that I've concluded, quite logically, that the Sonic Barbeque-Grill (pictured above) is cursed and has an evil Cumulonimbus cloud full of filthy-ass rain hanging over it, everywhere it goes. That umbrella isn't keeping me dry by the way, it's to prevent a plague of locusts from eating my face.
It has therefore been ordained that the SBG must perish, that new life may flourish in it's place, and that new foodstuffs be burned o'er it's fresh flaming briquettes.
A replacement will be found, the curse ended, and a new post posted.