Michael sets our task to write a holiday story. It could be a past holiday, a present holiday or even a dream holiday to some place or location you dream about visiting.
More details and participation via Mr Linky here
Honeymoons are holidays right? Newlyweds go off on a holiday to ‘relax’ after the hustle and bustle of a wedding, enjoying each other and getting to grips with waking up with someone and suddenly becoming a couple instead of an individual (in theory, as many couples have already been living together before tying the knot).
I had a wonderful wedding in 1977.
We went to Cornwall for our honeymoon, our room having a sea view (when you stood on a chair) and the bathroom was down the hall as not all rooms were en suite in those days.
Our wedding night had actually been spent in our own home, where we removed thirty hair grips and took over an hour to get all the backcombing out of my hair without resulting in bald patches.
The drive was good (I didn’t drive then and passing my test the following February was one of the good things to come out of our marriage) and I had my arm resting on the window as it was a hot day and air conditioning wasn’t fitted in his Viva.
By the time we arrived, my arm resembled a liquorice allsort as I had tanned 3 inches either side of my left elbow. It wasn’t a good look for me.
We had B&B only so all other meals were up to us, but seeing as we wanted to explore the beautiful countryside and beaches and not be restricted to meal times, that didn’t matter.
He took a head and shoulders picture of me on a prom somewhere, my hair all over the place, but it wasn’t a bad photo. That was the only personal one he took, but I think there were a few scenic ones.
We’d had a July wedding, so were too early for the schools breaking up, and it should have been warm and sunny. There was no pool, but the hotel was set in pleasant grounds and I was able to read outside if the weather was nice.
And that was the problem.
I read 5 paperbacks the week we were away: Jaws, The Killing Gift, The Swarm, Suffer the Children and Incubus, all horror stories.
The marriage was doomed before it got started really, especially when it turned out he’d only asked me out on a dare. Any rose tint to my glasses left the building in double time.
No-one’s fault, just two individuals who had nothing in common and when we got back, we were hit with the news that his Mum had terminal cancer, so the first year of our marriage was spent to and from the hospital and doing our share of looking after his Dad.
I got custody of the dog, car and car loan in the divorce and went back to live with my parents. A year or so later I moved to Bath, and the holidays I had there didn’t pan out that well either (sigh).