Stepping outside the park is like entering a parallel universe where everything is slightly bleepy. Foryd Road is the spine of Kinmel Bay, lined with arcades that have lost their “G” keys long ago. Every machine is a gamble: you might win a giant inflatable shark, or you might hear a machine scream “GAME OVER” in a tone that sounds personally offended by your existence.
There’s a chip shop called “The Catch” that sells the best mushy peas you’ve ever had. It’s a scientific fact that the salt in the air makes chips taste 40% better. I made that statistic up, but try it—you won’t prove me wrong because you’ll be too busy eating. The local seagulls have learned to queue politely for scraps, which is more courtesy than you’ll see at some London train stations.
The Rhyl Connection: Don’t Skip It
A short walk (or a slightly longer stumble after three pints of local ale) gets you to Rhyl itself. Rhyl has a Sky Tower that looks like a giant, metallic alien thumb sticking out of the ground. It’s 240 feet tall, and if you’re brave enough to go up, you can see the entire coast. Or, as I call it, “a chance to watch other people enjoy their holidays from above.”
Photos of Golden Sands Rhyl Kinmel Bay, Rhyl, Clwyd
Rhyl’s promenade is a masterclass in British seaside pathology. You’ll see a man walking a dog that’s bigger than the caravan he’s staying in. You’ll see a woman eating a candyfloss that’s larger than her own head. It’s beautiful chaos. The beach itself is a lovely stretch of sand, perfect for building sandcastles that will be destroyed by the tide in forty-two minutes. It’s a metaphor for life, really.
