Once upon a time, a long time ago, before face masks were worn in the streets and the world was a simpler place, my parents took me and my little brother on holiday to Majorca. It was a typical family vacation. Ice creams by the pool and mocktails at the bar as we watched the hotel entertainment for the evening. And, of course, a daytime kids’ club, where the adults could drop their kids so that they could enjoy a few hours of peace and quiet. It was at this kids’ club where I auditioned for the role of Snow White in a play which would later be performed in front of the entire hotel. Naturally, as I was the only child there who did not have a tan due to how ridiculously pale I have always been, the role should have been mine. Instead, I was given the role of the wicked witch. A role I was entirely unimpressed with.
Having skin ‘as white as snow’ brings me to the subject of this blog. Because I still do not tan after sitting in the sun for hours, I actually go a lovely shade of tomato red. Which was exactly what happened to me last week when I spent a few hours sitting on the beach under a complete blanket of cloud.
Just like everybody else this year, I missed out on a much-needed holiday when lockdown was announced. In June there should have been eleven of us altogether, boarding a plane and jetting off to the sunny cocktail bars of Majorca. Instead, I stayed locked up at home and wrote a book. But, last week, I had the opportunity to stay away for a few days with my lovely mum and my amazing daughter. So, instead of jetting into the sun, we drove into the clouds to stay in my mum’s static caravan, close to Filey.
I won’t go through every detail of our little trip. But, I will show you some of my favourite moments…
When somebody tells you that they’ve been on holiday in a caravan, if you’re anything like me, then in your head will be a vision of a cramped little campsite filled with screaming children, muddy fields and irritable campers. That might be somebody else’s idea of fun, but it is not mine. I much prefer this form of caravanning… this is my mum’s ‘balcony’, and this is the view I had every single morning as I drank my morning tea.
Complete, with a total of 11 cute little baby ducks to greet us each morning.
We spent a slightly chilly day in one of my favourite places in the world… Whitby. If you have never been, then go immediately. Only, maybe not quite so immediately… I have never been so COVID-19 aware/uncomfortable since coming out of lockdown. Whitby is all about the tiny little streets lined with shops and there just isn’t enough room for the number of people who were visiting that day. It was a ‘masks on all day’ kind of visit. But, I can’t wait to go back already. I love the history there, the views, the fish and chips and ice cream and doughnuts. The tiny little quirky shops and streets. I just love Whitby.
Scarborough isn’t normally somewhere that I would consider going for a day out, not unless it’s to take a walk around the most beautiful little church I’ve ever seen or to explore the castle. But this time, we did neither of those things. It turned out to be such a relaxing day. We sat on the beach and watched the waves roll in, we had fish and chips because duh, and we ate the world’s best ice cream (I’m not even over exaggerating, it really is that good!). We also had a giant inflatable chicken hand us a leaflet on why we should become vegans. Not something I was expecting out of our little day trip but it was entertaining all the same.
It just wouldn’t be a holiday without climbing on the play equipment in the middle of the night after a few glasses of wine. So, here we are. My mum took the photo. At the top is my girl, Gracie. Then my fantastic neighbour, Emma. Then me, clinging on for dear life at the back. And finally my wonderful Auntie Helen, in her rather bright trousers.
And not even being stung by both a bee AND a wasp could ruin the week. I have made it 30 years without ever being stung until I was stung by both of the little sods within the space of 2 days. Just for the record, wasp stings are much worse than bee stings, no I did not intentionally kill him after he assaulted me and yes I do now have a complex about wearing face masks after the bee got stuck in there and stung my second chin.
So, that was my not so sunny staycation. And throughout the entire experience, and despite planning to on numerous occasions, I did not write a single word. But I did rediscover my love of reading.
Love Love xx
