Your real online soap opera with real people in real places doing real things - except one's an alien, facing the challenges of growing up on an unfamiliar planet
Friday, 16 September 2016
Say Again, Granny Alert?
Consider a restoration project for those with a couple of million to spare and a deep fear of crowded spaces. The location of this property, newly arrived on the market, will be ideal for watching the new Elizabeth-class aircraft carriers coming in and out of the harbour. No more will drunken singers argue outside your bedroom window at 4 in the morning. No more will earnest yet deluded true believers attempt to persuade you that the gods are real.
On the other hand, popping out for a pint of milk might be an issue, and it comes with zero parking spaces. Unless you have a boat.
Well, it started normally.
This is because I was in school. I did very well on my maths test which means I
have graduated past The Thing, or Robin the Boy Blunder, or the Reticulated
Wasp or whatever superhero represents the 3 and 4 times table.
I will therefore move on to
the Green Lantern or Wonder Woman or whoever is in charge of the 5 and 6 times
tables. But then Jof arrived to take me to an opticians’ appointment which was
outside the pub where Bud picked us up in the big car and we drove west at
varying speeds depending.
I played Minecraft all the way
to Salisbury which is where we always hit the traffic and after only 2 hours we
reached Center Parcs (Longleat) where Jof had kindly booked us in for her 50th
birthday treat. We were deep in the countryside and somebody had clearly
imported extra trees.
The car park was complicated
and we got a bit lost but we followed the signs and only 9 miles later we found
Chalet #917 which was in the Giant Redwoods section and everywhere is full of
And trees. And roads you can’t cycle down, and paths you can’t drive
down, and signs for Ash 380-1290 and Maple 312-940 and we were just happy we’d
found a cabin with the right number.
It was decent in size if there
were 6 of you and I found the sauna and BBQ and our own little patch of grass
outside and 3 big ensuite bedrooms so I instantly marked my territory by
crapping in one of them as is my way. Each double-sized bedroom has its own
dressing table and mirror and shower room and I had mine so Jof took the one
with the bath and Bud had the other.
So after unloading the 17
suitcases that Jof had thoughtfully packed, they went off to park the car in
the long-term fungus-ridden woodland car repository and came back with 2 bikes
with automatic lights. I had heard about this place from the PuddleMummies,
apparently it is a place where you have a spa, drink vodka and go down waterslides
and flumes. Well, I fancied the flumes so we trudged up 7 hills to reach the
pool that we could see from our window and it was epic.
An unseen Tarzan did his
ahh-aah ah song intermittently in a vast indoor tropical paradise with palm
trees and shops and hibiscus bushes and coffee shops and Indian Almond trees
and restaurants and carp ponds and more shops and I goggled at all of it and we
hit the waterworld place.
The changing rooms have an
ingenious double-door lock it only took me 8 minutes to master and we emerged
into the wave pool and climbed the stone walkways under the lianas and palms
and tried out the short green slide and the butt-buster and the Multi-Niagara
of Destiny that goes outside and the long green slide and the indoor whirl-pool
We tend to move around a lot
with quacking and laughter and Bud can’t see because of no glasses in the pool
and I don’t listen so we go around together and always lose Jof. But then she
found us again and we told her the butt-buster was ok and she believed us and
made a really big splash and we laughed at her. Then Bud said get in that
plunge pool, you’ll love it and of course it was the one at 4 degrees
centigrade and I hadn’t read the sign and this is why I hate him so I made him
get in too and he said a loud bad word and all the nearby people laughed and
most of them were like the Icelandic football team with the big beards.
I insisted on going down the
Multi-Niagara many times with Jof backwards, upside down etc and we bumped into
the walls and other Niagara users a lot and shouted “Tell my story” and “Avenge
my death” and “I’m too young to die” when going over the falls or getting
caught in the whirlpools and I pretended to be the liquid metal Terminator
dying in the vat of molten steel and we’ll probably be bruised tomorrow.
We got out at 1 hour 20 past
beer and we were all hungry so we walked the miles back to Hovel #917 and had
Pizza and dried off the towels in the sauna right under the sign saying don’t
leave clothes and towels in the sauna. The bath didn’t work for me but the
shower was good and we seemed to have a burping and farting contest which is
nice considering one of our number can apply for a SAGA card tomorrow and this
is her Adventure before Dementia.
There was cake. And a lot of disbelief that one of us can navigate the sylvan byways and arboreal
highways of this forested fen without having seen it before.