Posted by: docdenbow | May 2, 2013

It’s Time To Plan Your Holidays


It now May and judging by the weather on offer at the moment, spring has finally arrived albeit in rather a tardy fashion and we can all look forward to a summer sheltering from torrential rain whilst eating increasing soggy vile chips, all the time keeping watch for hateful scavenging seagulls. We can arrange our day trips in charabancs to dilapidated seaside resorts that are filled with and Guest Houses of a frankly dubious standard. We can buy sticky sickly sweet “rock,” certain in the knowledge that we’ll spend many a happy hour spitting fillings into tissues. Oh the joy we’ll derive from striding out on the rusty ruin that is the Pier, picking our way across the decrepit, rotten planks to a cafe “restaurant” at the end that serves all manner of foodstuffs, all of which are guaranteed to leave you with food poisoning. The tea and coffee on offer inside taste identical, save for an aftertaste of Fairy Liquid in the coffee, quite why I do not know. Perhaps to make the coffee froth?

There are a fortunate few that will not need to go on day trips. This elite group own caravans and they can hook up their little homes from home to the rear of their rusting Ford Sierras and take off, gypsy like, in search of nirvana. They weave their death defying way along the motorways of this great land – cheating death. These suburban travellers avoid the massed ranks of pantechnicons by the practice of refreshment stops on the hard shoulders of said motorways, which include frequent conversations with Traffic Policemen in their big Volvos. Arriving at the destinations these caravan kings and queens unhitch their vehicular abodes, erect the awnings and in the true spirit of the outdoor life head to the Caravan Park’s “Entertainment Suite” and get expertly pissed on Stella (for the men) and Carling With A Cherry On Top (for the ladies.) The children are left to terrorize and vandalize to the best of their ability, whilst the dog craps itself senseless everywhere and anywhere. These people are truly pioneers.

Of course if day trips sound a little gauche and you are far too middle class for a caravan then there is always a visit to somewhere as dull and boring as The Lake District on offer. Going on a holiday there, or mini-break as they are called these days, is tedious in the extreme. There is very little to do apart from pretending that you find the scenery inspiring and the fresh air, well fresh. There is a succession of lakes, all looking like lakes and there are precious few pubs. The odd pub that you do find is just that, odd. Usually it’s someone’s twisted notion of what a pub in The Lake District should be like and completely misses the point as the one in the next Godforsaken village is exactly the same. It’s not just The Lake District of course. There are many places dotted around, where you can take a walking holiday. To me that’s a contradiction in terms. Whilst I am on holiday I don’t mind a little walk, a stroll, a meander, sometimes even a little trot down the sands to dip my toes into the surf. But a walking holiday? Never! Why on earth would I wish to take time from work just to spend it trudging up and down the countryside in search of a “historic” monument or suchlike? Views? Keep them, I’ve got a TV and can watch “Coast” in HD and that will do for me. Furthermore, with our whether as unpredictable as it is, these “walks” turn in soggy route marches with the added bonus of blistered feet and a rucksack growing steadily heavier due to water absorption. I think the appeal for this type of vacation is “selective” and for only the (fool)hardy.

Having considered the types of getaway on offer to a fellow who is terrified at the merest thought of flight in one of those fangled aeroplane thingies, I have made a decision. I will stroll from my home the 5 minutes to Mill Wood, and headDSCN1769 gently onwards.For this year my holiday will be nothing more than to grab my camera and from a suitable hide go a-squatching in Clyne Woods.

Ciao For Now Holidaymakers

Denbow

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