When you stay in a remote British seaside hotel for a while, just one of the things you go back to is the experience of a child aged around nine. He remembers the thrill of choosing each night from the fixed menu, an experience that you have hopefully long forgotten amidst the freedoms of adulthood. You also experience non-stop eighties classics over the local radio station, and curious re-adaptations of your expectations of 'Full English Breakfast', which always has to consist of the maximum number of the worst tasting ingredients, and this day after day, turns in to a kind of game. After one day of 'Full English' you decide on just 'Bacon and Egg' which comes out as, just one slice of bacon and one fried egg. The next you try and play the system asking for scrambled egg (needs more eggs+butter)- very bad idea- unless you specify scrambled egg non microwaved to oblivion to the texture of Bisto granules. Still, even this remains entertaining, and I would recommend this particular hotel to anyone.
Meanwhile, this is a small island, and we received a very funny message today from our friend here to tell us 'You were spotted yesterday in town'. Now this has certainly put the heebie geebies up Ms Bernstein. I mean, she was only photographing a few investment bank doorways.
Holidays can be such fun, even as adults it can feel just like the Famous Five.
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