Things that begin with the letter 'C'

Trip Start May 27, 2010
Trip End Aug 31, 2011

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Flag of United Kingdom  , England,
Monday, August 29, 2011

Not much happened during the week.  It was the weekend that was interesting. 

And when I think about it, everything that happened began with the letter 'C'.

Cheese and ham sandwich
It was a bank holiday weekend and Phil's parents had taken their caravan up to Burnham-on-Sea for a few days.  I thought it would be a nice idea if we joined them for a couple of nights, so we set off on Saturday morning and grabbed a toasted cheese and ham sandwich for breakfast. 

Car traffic
It didn't take long before we were stuck in traffic on the motorway and once again got us arguing about which country (Australia vs England) has the better traffic and better road laws.  Hands down I say Australia has much better roads and rules.  I've complained about this before, but the roads here really are quite congested, so it was no surprise that on a long weekend the roads were going to be hell.  When we were on a raised section of road with only a steel barrier containing the cars, Phil wondered whether any cars had ever driven off the edge.  I suggested that they might've deliberately driven over the edge having become frustrated by the car traffic. 

Caravan City
We arrived at what I dubbed "Caravan City" just before 12, in time to watch Villa take on the Wolves and have a couple of ciders.  The game was a draw, so we decided to get in the car and head down to Weston to have a look and get some more ciders in.  The wind was absolutely howling and my eardrums got torn apart so we had to find somewhere to retreat to.  We had a few ciders in a pub on the brown waterfront (the water was literally brown) and then wandered through the backstreets and came upon a pub with a four piece jazz band playing out the front. 

Cider festival
The pub was having a cider festival, and it was then that we realised we had a talent for sniffing out places with the best ciders!  John got himself a pint of 7.5% cider while the rest of us went for the milder 6.5% options and whiled the afternoon away chatting to locals and visitors alike.  . 

Cardiff clowns
We sat at a table with some people from Cardiff, one of which had an instant attraction to Phil, the other was impressed with my ramblings about Aboriginal communites, and I too was impressed with my recall of knowledge that I didn't even know I had!

Classy dancing
The 6.5% ciders kicked in a little while later, and I started doing my classy dance in the middle of the walkway.  The girl from Cardiff walked past and I stopped her in her tracks and asked for an X Factor-style critique of my dancing, but she was obviously stunned by how good I was and continued on her way with a curious smurk on her face.  She must've been jealous.  Either way I won't be making use of the email address she gave me so that I could look her up when we visit Cardiff one day.

Chair hogging c*nt
So after my dancing efforts were thwarted, we got back in the car and went back to the caravan park and wandered in to the club where all manner of campers were gathered to watch whatever the evening's entertainment was.  We just wanted to grab some food and go back to the van, but while we waited for our pizza to be burnt to a crisp we went in search of some seats to perch on.  I approached a delightful fellow camper and asked him whether the six spare seats he had surrounding him were available for us to use for five minutes.  He told me that the people that were sitting in them have all gone to the toilet and would be back to fill the chairs once more.  So I walked ahead and kept looking for other tables to sit at, and when I had no luck, I returned to the lovely man and asked him again whether the seats were in fact being used or whether he was talking a load of shit.  It ended up in a brief but heated argument with him asserting that I had already asked him whether the seats were free and that he had told me they were not.  I challenged him and asked whether all six people really went to the toilet at the same time, and thought that it would be quite a coincidence if they had all needed to pee at the same time.  I did tell him to put his manners back in because he was being quite aggressive, and when Gill saw that things were getting heated, she tapped me on the shoulder and removed me from the boxing ring and led me to the table that she had found in the meantime.  What a prick.  All I wanted to know was where his invisible friends were, and he got all up in my face. 

Cold showers
Realising I'd had a few too many drinks the day before, the cold shower on Sunday wasn't all that unwelcome, in fact it did well to wake me up and get the blood flowing again.  Still, a cold shower two days running isn't exactly cricket.  Nonetheless, I was grateful to have running water to shower under at all. 

Budget holiday destinations usually attract people of a certain demographic, and so it was little wonder that there were so many chavs around.  From 13 year old girls in dresses so short you could all but see their clackers, to boys with bad haircuts and the usual Adidas attire, Burnham and Brean showed off its best.  The funniest brush with a chav that I had was when walking along the streets of Burnham on Sunday and I accidentally stepped on a chip packet that was floating along down the road in the wind that was howling through the area that day.  I got a massive death stare from a chavvy young lady to whom I was grateful for holding her poisin tongue, and then I realised that her little daughter was chasing after this chip packet and I had stepped on it thinking it was rubbish.  Oops! If it was rubbish though, what was she doing letting her little girl play with it?

Crazy golf
We had to partake in the local entertainment facilities, so crazy golf it was.  Phil won of course, followed closely by his mother (who was very quick to double-check his adding up to make sure the scores were right!) and I came third (see: last).  My hole-in-one was overshadowed by the 5 shots I took on the next hole.  Ouch.

Those clogs with holes in them.  Spotted plenty of pairs of those!

Chubby people
Everywhere.  So many fat people it made me wonder whether I was at fat camp and whether Marjorie Dawes from Fat Fighters was going to pop out in her purple tent dress and tell everyone to eat dust. 

Don't get me wrong, I had a lovely weekend and it was great to be able to spend some time away with Phil and his parents (the Craddocks), but it was a real eye opener and served as a reminder that holidays come in all shapes and sizes.  I couldn't help feeling like a bit of a snob in response to a lot of the things I saw, but it comes down to the huge differences in seaside life in Australia in comparison.  We're used to our beaches being beautiful and clean, and almost an exclusive place to be.  Everyone is entitled to a weekend away and it's good that people can take their families away relatively cheaply and without having to travel long distances.  But leave chair hogging attitude and the crocs at home next time people.  They're both as unnecessary as each other. 
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