In Competition No. 2443 you were invited to supply a letter from someone on holiday pretending they are having a good time when in fact they are not.
This was tricky because some of the incidents described were beyond the pretence of enjoyment. Simon Massey, for instance, led off with: ‘See Naples and die, they say. Well, you know how literal your father is — or was, as we shall now have to get used to saying.’ I was amused by Adrian Fry’s hotel in Chechnya — ‘wonderfully intimate: local couples can’t afford more than a couple of hours here but certainly enjoy it’ — and J.H. Smith’s unBellocian hiking holiday: ‘George prefers 12-mile walks but has happily compromised on a seven-miler every day of the fortnight as long as we agree not to stop at a pub.’ The prizewinners, printed below, get £25 each, and the bonus fiver is Rosemary Fisher’s.
The nightlife here is just amazing — carries on until the early hours. And right on our doorstep too! Certainly keeps us in the holiday mood. Rachel says she’s truly delighted the local cuisine doesn’t agree with her as she’s rapidly managing to shed those surplus pounds that refused to budge at home. At this rate she should be able to fit into her bikini by the time the hotel pool’s ready at the end of next week. Temperature’s much the same as at home, so with a bit of luck there’ll be little chance of the kids suffering from sunburn this year. We keep reminding ourselves of the cash we’re saving on those ridiculously expensive high-factor lotions. On top of all that, the place is absolutely chock-a-block with fellow Brits right now, so we’ve all been spared from having to cope with the usual boring language problem.
Rosemary Fisher
Heather darling, this is the idyllic spot, looking down over the olive groves to the sea. We’re sharing the villa with the Purkisses, a couple we know from Jim’s bridge club. Luckily, the owner lives nearby and is a bridge fanatic, so they have a four and I’m free to roam the house and grounds at will. I have a huge, very uncluttered kitchen to keep them fuelled, and of course it gives them lots to talk about over dinner. I don’t trust myself on the mountain roads, but Kemala, the help, comes up from the village, so I’m learning a few words of Turkish. Such fun! She’s telling me all about her extremely extended family, I think. We’re in our eleventh day now and it feels as though we’ve been here for ever. If you’ll forgive another cliché, I really, really do wish you were here. Kisses, Babs.
Noel Petty
Thought you’d like to know how we’re getting on here in LA. The weather, of course, is fantastic. The sun blazes down through the smog all day long and when it does rain the downpours are so intense they rarely last longer than five days. Today we visited Disneyland, which is the original one, meaning the rides are that much slower — better for us oldies if not the kids! Queues not too bad (five or six hours max) and at the end we all enjoyed a chocolate banana. Tomorrow it’s Universal Studios, where a big plastic shark apparently frightens the life out of you — corny but scary! Our hotel is functional and has amazing breakfasts — as many pancakes as you can eat (one in my case, but this morning Paul had seven!). Might be a bit jetlagged on return but looking forward to EastEnders more than I can tell you.
Jonathan Taylor
Dearest Mummy,
The hotel is heaven and — you’ll never guess! — there’s another guest staying called Lizzie who works in Daddy’s office!!! She joins us for dinner and is perfectly sweet, telling me about lots of long walks I can go on by myself. I went on one yesterday actually but it rained so I came back early and Daddy came out of his bedroom in his dressing-gown and gave me money for an ice cream — which was super except that I dropped a bit down my dress and Lizzie (who’d appeared from somewhere) called me clumsy — which Daddy explained was just a joke. Most of the shops are closed (out of season, Daddy says) and the beach is a bit tarry, but there are heaps of other things to see like the disused bandstand and where the pier used to be. See you very soon, darling Mummy. Love from Jean.
J.C.H. Mounsey
Josh, you’d love it here. The sea constantly changes — green, grey and a magnificent ominous brown (when clouds gather over Martyr’s Rock). When it’s going to rain, though, it darkens to a gorgeous chrysoprase green. Almost Gothic. Most days we spend indoors, the hotel minibus being decommissioned(!). My fellow guests include a Professor of Engineering, a district nurse (and midwife) and a mysterious Dutch woman who it’s rumoured was an infamous Rotterdam madame. We do see life! I can’t begin to outline some of the conversation/discussions we’ve had on various topics! Though the Prof. is rather inclined to lecture. The cuisine’s all locally produced by small farmers. The indigenous brew’s somewhat rural and tough on the palate — but it packs a punch. It’s just your sort of place. Your pal, Augustus. PS. It seems the Dutch lady is a retired civil servant from Polder.
Gerard Benson
Wow! It’s almost like reliving the 1960s. In the spiritual sense, I mean — a real antidote to being an affluent consumer dwelling in the comfort zone. The moment you enter the ashram you have to give up your mobile phone, and of course there’s no need for money here — we all paid in advance and the £4,000 covers food and lodging for the entire week. Regular Vedic exercises that start at 5 a.m. and a macrobiotic diet, plus the absence of toxins like alcohol and tobacco, keep us healthy. No TV leaves our minds free to focus on deeper realities than sport or politics, so we grow inwardly while shedding excess body weight. The straw in the dorms is quite clean, while a full programme of lectures and seminars means we’re never caught with time on our hands or are tempted to wool-gather. As for the speakers — positively astral!
Basil Ransome-Davies
No. 2446: Top gear
Last week I mentioned Beachcomber’s poem ‘The Danger of Queer Hats’. You are invited to provide a poem (maximum 16 lines) with that title. Entries to ‘Competition No, 2446’ by 1 June.
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