Now almost a week since nous arrivons. I now think that having survived
Week One I can last out the distance.
Hyper Henri and I played a very one-sided game of table tennis all
morning. In the afternoon we went to Palus beach. Unfortunately, on
arriving at the beach the weather became very overcast and it started
to rain. Nonetheless, unpeturbed, Gavin, Caroline and Nige went for a
swim, which has some logic insofar as swimming is an equally wet
activity come rain or shine. Meanwhile, Andrew and I broke into the
crazy golf course and cheekily played for free using our own clubs -
what daring!
When the intrepid swimmers had dried off and with the rain still not
showing signs of abating, it was decided to motor down to St Quay
Portrieux further along the coast. However, our departure was soon
hindered. Sheepishly, Henri came over to our car where Gavin, Caroline,
Andrew and I were all impatient to get going. In hesitant tones, he
explained apologetically that they would be delayed. "Why?" I asked.
Because, it was reported, the driver's seat headrest in Nigel and
Angie's Maestro had accidentally come out of the back of the seat and
could not readily be restored to its normal position.
We quickly disputed Henri's guilt-ridden explanation suggesting that
the true story was that Henri had in fact been fiddling around with the
headrest and had pulled it out of its fixture. This version of events
was soon verified by his fuming father! Anyway, we were all delayed by
quarter of an hour as Nigel's Lad (now a possible non-runner with a
likely stewards' enquiry) attempted to return the headrest to its
normal position. His endeavours were in vain and Nige was forced to
drive with his headrest now positioned some ten inches above his head
creating the impression that the car was in fact being driven by a
dwarf (sorry, vertically challenged individual). I suspect that without
proper restraint Henri's prospects look very dim.
Eventually arrived in St. Quay Portrieux; a Mecca for all those seeking
holiday hedonistic high-kicks: gift shops with risqué postcards, cafes,
sports shops, sandy beaches, funfair, amusement arcades, bars and ... a
casino.
When we got out of our cars Henri looked noticeably shifty; the aspect
of a boy not happy with his parental penalty for head rest offence
class A. Nige was clearly annoyed and Angie was vocal in her
irritation. Momentarily shrugging off any unpopularity he had generated
by his actions, Henri was broadcasting gleefully his success in being
the first to spot the casino on the drive into the town.