Tuesday, April 05, 2011  

Claustrophobia there's too much paranoia

For quite a few years now we have taken our holidays on the shores of various other nations, and I don’t mean Wales. We both enjoy lounging on a sunbed on a beach, reading a book and sipping brightly coloured drinks that are provided at regular intervals by some unseen hand. It isn’t uncommon to sit in the shade of a palm tree in 40+ temperatures, punctuated by the occasional dip in the azure waters of a warm sea, for days on end. After a siesta we would shower and dress for dinner, and after feeding would retire to a bar somewhere and watch the entertainment whilst getting steadily wankered on cocktails.

Last year we succumbed to family pressure and had a holiday in this country. I can almost hear your head shaking. Certain family members will not fly and so miss out on Caribbean islands and Egyptian wonders. Instead they opt for a caravan “down south”. Now don’t get me wrong, I like caravans, we used to spend all our early holidays in Towyn and had some really good times, before it turned into a Welsh Chechnya. We thought those days were gone, but they came back. It’s actually a great laugh with all the family with the caravans in a circle, but I can’t help thinking how good it would be in Jamaica or Mexico. Anyway, you apparently can’t get to Jamaica in a normal family saloon, so…

We decided to go to Devon Cliffs* and opted for a superior caravan. God knows what an ordinary one would have been like. The one we got was fucking awful and after a complaint and a website we got most of our money back and a free upgrade should we choose to book again.

We’ve booked again.

4 caravans, upgraded to prestige, but this time on a better site. I couldn’t mention down South without mentioning probably the best fish and chips in Cornwall. Rick Stein’s at Padstow. Not the arsey restaurant, the chippy just outside town. I can see a day out for fish and chips. On the other end of the scale is Jamie Oliver’s 15 just outside Newquay, very very nice. The Martini was stunning. Tracy asked the barman how he had made the amazing version of the famous cocktail. He said, in a fantastic French accent “put a small amount of ze vermouth on ze ice and mix gently, zen srow it away” he made a dismissive wave of his hand as if the vermouth was utter shit. “zen you put in ze gin and shake… zen a twist of lemon and voila”

Now we just need it not to fucking rain.

*This shit hole was featured on BBCs Watchdog.

| posted by Simon | 9:47 pm | 0 comments
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