Welcome to the great British sea side, home of the legendary 'staycation'. For those of you not familiar with this turn of phrase, the 'staycation' is a neccessary evil those of us blighted by the recession have to make-do with when those much coveted Bank holiday week ends come about.
Treks to package holiday hell on charter air craft packed with screaming children and drunk groups of 20 somethings is now a thing of the past.
Instead long train rides, pebble beaches, freezing English channel waves, chalk cliffs, wafts of manure tinged air mingle with the clink of tea cups being sipped by old dears in fusty hotels on victorian piers. Those former times of flying to foreign shores are now replaced with trips to the great British sea side! With the rain in Spain, the British pound on life support and the Royal wedding around the corner, 'staycationing' on domestic shores is not such a bad thing after all.
What more could one ask for than lying on the beach listening to cheezy 80's music on "Cornwall's top radio station....pirate radio! ". Clearly I'm not alone in my 'staycation' euphoria if the masses of little people braving the artic water and their adult owners lazing in bargain basement foldable chairs, munching on tuna sarni's, is anything to go by.
Nothing comes close to thrill of knowing there's another three days of lazing in the Sun with no airport nightmares to brave so that we're back in time to watch Will's and Kate tying the knot from the best seat in the house, our living rooms.
With that said, let's raise a toast to the best of British!The Sea side 'staycation'. Cheers!
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