What I Did On My Holidays.

By Amanda (Aged 9 1/2)

Well, that’s how it feels. As soon as I think about updating folk on what I’ve been up to whilst gallivanting, I’m reminded of those bloody awful essays we were commanded to write at school after the summer holidays. I went to school with the kind of children whose compositions included such gems as “Whilst Father conducted his business in Karachi, the nanny and I…”, so I just used to tell great whopping lies in mine. Looking back, I think that I should find them and slap them for making me feel that my summer holidays were inferior. We spent quality time, going on picnics, visiting relatives and actually having family conversations, whilst my peers spent most of their childhood being paid to shut up and disappear.

Anyway, back to the point… What was it again? Oh yes! My travels and adventures.

Well, having visited Hampshire to catch up with friends. I set sail for Bristol and chez Claire. After I introduced her cats to the joy of Salmon (I’m sure she’ll curse me when they turn their noses up at the Whiskas), we headed up to “that London”. I’d decided by that point that my time would be better spent wandering around, seeing the sights than working, although, in the event, London was even bloody colder than home and I spent more time in the bar than anywhere else.

My brother joined us on Friday evening. His arrival was announced by a phone call from reception.

We have a gentleman here who says he’s your brother. Should we let him through?

I think that may just be the first time I’ve answered an honest yes to that question.

So, having watched Terry & June and generally thrown big brother and Claire together to see whether they’d get on (they did), we bimbled off to find a place to eat. It was decided that Indian food was the way to go, so we headed for the two restaurants we’d spied earlier in the day. Having spent a good five minutes outside in the freezing cold, trying to decide which one should have the honour of feeding us  – which involved Claire gesturing and mouthing “Is it any good?” to the diners in one establishment – we made our choice and I think I speak for all of us when I say that we chose WRONG!

However, having switched off the radiator they sat me beside (think blast furnace) and got ourselves settled, we were then introduced to a level of service previously unseen by any of us. I can only conclude that in between each visit to our table to take first drinks orders and then food, the poor chap went upstairs for forty winks. This leads me to a piece of advice for the restaurant:

The Dip Carousel of Doom!If you are going to leave your customers sitting there like plebs for forty five minutes between courses, don’t be surprised when they start to misbehave. The dip roulette was a great game and I’m still annoyed that you felt confiscating the dip carousel was the way to go. As for throwing my cutlery at me! I have taken this to be an act of war and I feel it only fair to warn you that I will be back at some time in the future and I shall bring reinforcements!

After London it was onwards and upwards to Glasgow, which involved a road trip for myself, Claire and Susan. To be honest, the less said about that, the better. Who knew that shoving three grown women into a car for a few hours would result in that sort of behaviour… Fun though Smile

Piranha attackGlasgow was an interesting mix of fabulous food in wonderful restaurants with charming company, a reintroduction to full on domination* and having my tootsies nibbled by fish (Thank you Laura). The fish thing is very weird, but I would highly recommend it. If nothing else, then just to be able to say that you’ve done it.

Well, I’m back home now, having clocked up 1700 miles in the car, so for the time being it’s back to normal. Well, my version of normal anyway. Winking smile

*Mistress Amanda is now available, so I shall have to edit my website.

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