(no subject)
Here is the remainding Holiday Diary!
Day 6
Due to the heavy drinking of the day before, I decided to have a lie-in and didn’t get up until about 9:30 (yes that was my lie-in). Still, when I went back no-one was up except my Dad who had got up early to go to the Farmer’s Market to buy some fresh food to cook. Today was my Parent’s wedding anniversary…23 years of disappointment and lack of communication. Okay, that’s a bit harsh I suppose they were happy in the early days, perhaps. I mean don’t get me wrong, from the outside we are a conventional happy nuclear family but from an insider’s observations, you start to see the cracks.
After various showers, breakfasts and a lot of waiting around we left the house to go to Southwold, to the seaside. We arrived at the pier to a strong North-westerly wind blowing. Needless to say we left our swimming costumes in the car. We strolled down the pier, past many a tacky souvenir shop and fish café/restaurants. The end of the pier was closed off because a couple were getting married, they had a brass band. My parents exchanged smug comments like “nice day for a wedding”.
We went to a pub and had a pint of ‘Adnams’ the local beer. As we were strolling down the high street we discovered a fete with a free wine tasting and stalls and a live Rock’n’Roll band who were actually pretty good, they played many Buddy Holly classics etc. We sat with over-priced barbequed sausages and listened to the band. I grimaced at the sight of middle aged ‘Hoorah Henrys’ and their ‘Phillies’ dancing in an uninhibited fashion which was distressing.
My parents fall into the middle class poor bracket. We earn a lot on paper, but by no means have the money for frivolities. Where other families (who have similar incomes), may spend their money on ‘things’, my parents prefer to spend money on ‘lifestyle’ e.g. good food and wine. Today being their anniversary was a fine example. There were no gifts; my mum gave my dad a card (quite out of character). Instead when we got back home my dad prepared a starter of Tattinger Champagne and Fois Gras with Melba toast. He followed by cooking up a storm of steaks, green beans in bacon and garlic and creamy mash (of course accompanied with some fine wine). I was fine but I was getting pretty sick of the unvaried conversation (mainly because my Aunt is forgetful and so frequently asks the same questions), and so politely cleared and washed up before slipping away to Joyce’s. I usually arrived at Joyce’s before 11pm and a light would be on in one of the rooms lighting the hall so I could see to lock up. Tonight I arrived just before 11 and as I was fumbling with the key to lock the door the light suddenly went out…It was pitch black. I couldn’t see an inch in front of my nose and I had no idea where the light switch was. I started to feel my way along the wall down the corridor praying I a) got the right room and b) Joyce didn’t come out of her room to find me fumbling around in the dark. I thankfully found my room and went to sleep with the reassuring sound of Joyce’s heavy snores continuous through the walls.
Day 7
Today we were going for a meal for the continued celebrations of my parent’s anniversary. Joyce came as well as a thank you for putting me up.
It was a smart pub with a big wooden bar and wood panelling on the walls. The Dining room was simple yet stylish and upon entering there was a large long hot-plate containing various different hunks of meat and veg etc. There was a queue winding out of the dining area as the idea was to get your drinks and table, queue up where the chef/owner/host would serve you your main and you could help yourself to any veg or condiments you chose. Once we had all decided what we wanted we joined the queue. The owner/head chef was stood being the hot plate serving each customer. He looked like a chef. He smooth talked each individual “And what can I get for you madam on this fine day…” because he was well spoken it wasn’t sleazy just debonair and confident. He ‘made love’ to each spoonful of his ‘tasty morsels’ as he loving laid each plate with good hearty English food. The food was fantastic and desserts equally satisfying. We got home around absolutely stuffed and incapable of doing anything but sleep or read. In the evening we had a few sandwiches, I finished a fantastic book called ‘Toast’ by Nigel Slater the food columnist for the Observer. I had guiltily put Jane Austen on hold and delved into his life story told by food, it was extremely entertaining and I recommend it to everyone! The rest of the evening was spent on my laptop updating while getting quite frustrated at trying to concentrate over my mother’s shrill voice who was telling my brother not to be anti-social and stay in his room but to sit in the living room with everyone like I was doing. She wasn’t aware that I wasn’t among them all by choice, it was merely the fact I didn’t have a room to go to that was keeping me.
Day 8
I woke up at 5:30 as I had been having a really distressing dream about being late or something but managed to get back to sleep only to start another weird dream, this happened for most of the early morning until about 9:00am when I heard a gardener outside my bedroom window. I decided to continue my lie-in, and read in bed for awhile. Today we went on a little trip to a place called Pin Mill (where I had 2 pints of Adnams and got a bit tiddly) and the onto the sea/shipping port in some place or other where my Dad and brother went off in excitement to look at the boats and me and my mother went in the bar and I had another half pint! I keep (especially when I’m drunk) thinking or reminiscing about Jack. I was just thinking about the 1st time I kissed him while in the car, I do this thing where my stomach tightens and flips and I pull this strained face almost a grimace (totally involuntary)…Julian caught me doing it and asked what was wrong, but I managed to throw him off with the excuse of ‘trapped wind’. Another gross thing is that my burnt face is peeling. Mainly my forehead. Not the lots of little peels, because I’ve been heavily moisturising it, I can peel long pieces off and disgust my family. Its fantastic…it’s like tearing back cello-tape but much quieter and softer. Unfortunately I’ve now peeled it away to my hairline and I can’t go any further without shaving my head!
Day 9
As it was our last day we left early in the morning to go to the most easterly part of England: Lowestoft. It was a dire little town with the effervescent hint of Salford or Wythenshawe about it. Down the high street every other shop was a pound store (and not the good kind). We found a grubby little pub which seemed to be a club by night (ladies night black board + dance floor) and had lunch it did have a pool table though so me and Jules got a game. Before going home we strolled down the sea front, there was a fun fair so we went on the dodgems which was fun. We had planned to go for a Chinese at my aunts request but when we went to see where it was A) it was a takeaway and B) it was closed on Tuesdays. We ended up going to this really posh place but with a country style. I had the most amazing steak ale and mushroom suet pudding but it was soo filling. That night I slept with a really full stomach.
I’ve noticed over the days that Joyce has been coming into my room when I’m not there little things like the little calendar had been turned and sometimes the curtains are closed when I have opened them before I leave. I sort of played up to this and as the only thing that I would leave in the room was my PJs everyday I would leave the folded on the chair and make the bed. It was sort of an odd routine but I felt if I left them strewed across the floor or the bed unmade Joyce would know and might say something that would give away her after-hours peeping.
Day 10
I got up early to pack etc. When we were all ready we said good bye to Great Aunt Margaret and got in the car. We were going to make a stop at Bury St Edmunds because my mum wanted to see it. It was a pretty little town and the high street seemed to have unique little clothes shops with lots of trendy little numbers (shame I hadn’t come to shop). We had lunch in a Tapas bar and then went across to the most amazing pie shop and bought a few pies to bring home with us. The journey home seemed pretty long, me and Jules watched The Terminal is was quite a sweet film except my laptop ran out of battery before the end (I hate it when that happens).
Overall the holiday was okay, but there were definitely holiday from hell elements!!