#TutuBlog 2023-08-28 in Bangor with a white tutu.

Hello, my lovelies! It's Emma here, your pink-tutu-wearing, ballet-obsessed blogger, writing to you live from the picturesque town of Bangor, nestled in the heart of North Wales. I just had to share this magical adventure with you, a journey of twirls, train rides, and, of course, my beloved pink tutu.

You know me, always chasing those dreamy ballet experiences, and this trip has definitely delivered!

My journey started in my Derbyshire home, that familiar feeling of excitement buzzing through me as I stepped onto the platform. You see, I'm a huge fan of train travel - there's just something romantic about the clackety-clack rhythm of the rails, the window scenery blurring by, and the anticipation building with each mile. It's almost like a dance itself, gliding across the countryside.

As the train rattled along, I couldn't help but feel the familiar pang of longing for the ballet studio. The way my legs wanted to just start moving in sync with the motion of the train, the urge to take a plié in the aisle. But then, the moment passed and I surrendered to the enchanting sway of the landscape.

Bangor's station greeted me with its old-world charm, a friendly smile from the stationmaster, and a breathtaking vista of the Menai Strait. I could immediately feel a sense of tranquility settle over me, a gentle contrast to the bustling energy of the train journey.

Taking a deep breath, I felt that familiar pull to spin a little pirouette right there in the station hall. Imagine, a tutu-clad dancer whirling amidst the arriving and departing passengers - a delightful touch of whimsical ballet in a typically British scene! But alas, duty calls.

I had made reservations at a quaint little bed and breakfast nestled close to the harbour, all fluffy pink floral wallpaper and antique furniture, it was simply darling! My room had a delightful balcony overlooking the water. I popped on a light cotton sundress and made my way down to the promenade.

Bangor's harbour was buzzing with activity - the salty tang of the sea, the rhythmic chatter of seagulls, fishermen mending their nets, and families strolling along the walkway. The scene felt like a vignette from a charming film, and my inner ballerina yearned to become a part of it.

Of course, a visit to Bangor wouldn't be complete without exploring its ballet scene. I discovered a local dance studio, The Little Ballet Academy, nestled above a bookshop in a quiet cobblestone lane. Its pastel-coloured façade drew me in immediately. I found myself utterly captivated by the energetic and graceful movements of the young dancers in their classes, their passion shining brightly as they absorbed the graceful flow of each step.

That evening, I found myself enjoying the enchanting ambiance of Bangor's city park. As the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the park in a soft glow, I knew the time was right. My pink tutu, safely tucked away in my luggage all day, deserved to twirl in the magic of the sunset.

And twirl it did! A pink flurry in the hushed stillness of the evening. The other park visitors were captivated - they even clapped, some with hesitant smiles, as if a magical creature had emerged from the trees. It was a truly beautiful moment, an impromptu ballet performance amidst the tranquil green, reminding me once more that a little touch of whimsy can truly make a day.

As my stay drew to a close, I felt the bittersweet tug of departing from Bangor's enchantment. A small pang of sadness to leave its beauty behind, but also the thrill of another adventure just around the corner.

But Bangor won't be just a fading memory. I’m already planning my return! Who knows what adventures my pink tutu and I will find waiting for us on our next ballet-filled adventure? Until next time, remember: it’s never too late to dance. And every day is a chance to bring a little pink-tutu magic into the world.

I can’t wait to hear from you!

Much love, Emma