I think I have finally solved the problem of the mystery ailment that afflicts me every time I sit down at the keyboard – a strange forgetfulness that assails me as soon as my fingers touch the keys.
Take today, for instance. I entered the room with this post in mind, but still visited eBay, searched Ancestry for “Richard Badger” (he gave out a medal for the 1902 coronation, but there are to many to search) and had a look round a couple of houses for sale (one an old railway station in Yorkshire, one an ancient manor house in Devon _ I can’t afford either). That was after following a link to the bridge disaster in Great Yarmouth. I’ve lived in the Eastern Counties, I’ve visited Yarmouth several times, but I never knew there was a bridge collapse. Note – we call it Yarmouth because we’re lazy – it isn’t to be confused with the other one. The other one is a lot nicer by the look of the website and has never come in the top five of Britain’s Worst Seasides.
I just got diverted by the list – it’s not a very fair list and says more about the people who compiled it rather than the actual resorts. I’ve been to 9 of the bottom 20 and though they aren’t particularly nice places they aren’t horrible either, they are just resorts to go with your kids for an unsophisticated day out. They wouldn’t suit international jet-setters, lifestyle bloggers or readers of highbrow newspapers, but they are cheap, cheerful an inoffensive.
The top twenty? I’ve been to eight of them, and they are lovely. This, however, is an accident of geography and lack of development. How could you fail as a tourist resort if you have a beach and a castle? Or miles of beach and a scallop sculpture?
I can’t believe that Cleethorpes missed the bottom twenty, or that Llandudno didn’t make it into the top twenty.
Fish and Chips, that’s the thing to think of, and whether your kids will grow up with great memories of the day as they decide which Care Home you are going to.
Ooops, another diversion. I forgot what I was doing . . .