Spending time living in the great outdoors, your back hair being blown evocatively by a summer zephyr, can be wonderful fun… Unless, of course, you don’t have back hair. In which case my heart goes out to you for missing out on such brio.
With the above in mind, my owning of a campervan, along with a resplendently plush back pelt leads yours truly to conclude I am an incredibly serendipitous man.
“Have you got a campervan, Gary?!!… You’ve never mentioned that before in previous prose!” I hear you cry with trademark cutting sarcasm after no doubt tiring of my constant camping tale spam… A trait which I posit does you no favours.
Anyhow, during last week’s breeze on my hirsute hind while embracing life among the guy ropes and canvas, not only was I joined by my brother Ian, but also my beau Sarah’s youngest daughter (Katelan), her partner Simon and daughter Gracie.
The latter trio spending part of the week in their tourer caravan. A mobile home pitched at the same campsite, some 50 metres or so from my campervan.
Katelan, who doesn’t suffer from Tourette’s syndrome (but you’d never guess it from her steam of everyday cursing), had just spent a few days showing her horse Fendi at Harrogate’s Yorkshire Show… Upon arrival she was clearly in good spirits.
The reason for twentysomething’s verve was that Fendi was creditably placed fifth in the Class he was shown… Or it would have been creditable if there had been more than three horses in the event!
With Simon being the team member walking the horse during the events judging process, it was a bit of a shame there was not an ‘Owner with face most like their Horse’ Class!… A contest, I’d suggest, which would have guaranteed a first-place rosette.
While the five of us were together we braved Friday’s rain on Scarborough seafront. As we dodged in and out of amusement arcades, Katelan felt the need to inform us all it was peeing it down… As I had no idea why my hair was wet through and passing cars had their windscreen wipers on, I was incredibly grateful to Sarah’s daughter for pointing that out. Not to mention her recommendation I put my coat hood up… Patronising berk!!
Our Ian was great company during this meander around the streets and arcades. Or, should I say, he was when he wasn’t sat in an arcade car vigorously moving the steering wheel from side to side while emitting childlike “Vroom, Vroom!” and “Beep, Beep!” noises.
As the rain continued outside, we huddled inside various arcades amongst the stench of damp coats, old coin smell and flatulence.
I have no idea who bequeathed the latter, but it tended to disappear when Simon went outside to look skyward and yell “Stop f***ing raining!”… These displays of irk causing his face to redden in rage and (disconcertingly) his front teeth to start spinning like a revolving door.
Witnessing Simon’s unsettling behaviour leading Katelan to posit “He’s lived in Yorkshire all his life… You would think he’d be used to almost constant precipitation by now!”
Our Ian nodded in agreement… Meanwhile, I stood gawping in shock at hearing Sarah’s daughter use a sentence without cursing; not to mention, utilising a word with more than two syllables.
We later strolled to a seafront café whose menu was tattooed on the owner’s forearms; the drinks inked on the left, and food his right. This surreal way of advertising his fare causing the idiosyncratic fella to seemingly spend his day wandering between tables, allowing patrons to make selection choices.
With the aforementioned owner’s tattooist seemingly afflicted by dyslexia, our beverage selection proved a hit and miss affair… We got there in the end though. Ian and Simon finally ordering a pint of reber, Katelan a cup of eofee, while I quenched my thirst with a pot of Trea.
Refreshed by our recently quaffed drinks, we left the café in the late afternoon. Upon setting foot on the pavement outside, Simon yelled a final “Stop f***ing raining!” and we headed back to the campsite by car.
After a quick wash, our Ian and me headed to the impressively stocked and decorated bar for a couple of sherbets and a pleasant meal. After his elder brother ordered Chilli Con Carne, Ian informed the waitress taking the order “I fancy something Mexican as well… Can I have the Mac & Cheese, please?”
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