Holiday 2012: Part 2–Day 4 Wall of Corn

 

Launceston CastleFollowing the mad tour of the east coast of Devon we decided to take a trip inland. Our guide books told us of the wonders of Cornwall and our brief trip across the Taymar on Tuesday showed us that Cornwall was closer than we thought.

But where to go were either of us hadn’t been before? Our first thought was “Oooh where does FJ Warren live? She’s Cornish. But the thought of a another long drive was not appealing. Instead we peeked at the maps and guidebooks and settled on Launceston.

Launceston Castle

According to the guidebooks, Launceston was the ancient Cornish capital. It had a castle, a steam train and other interesting things like cider farms on route. So it seemed like the natural choice. So once more across the Taymar we went noting for the second time that week that people are charged to leave Cornwall and not go in.

Launceston is…boring. Tatty around the edges. Pretty. But boring. After a brief 10 minute walk it appeared we had done Launceston. So we tootled up to the castle to have mooch there. But at £7 each to go and look around some crumbling ruins we thought £14 would be better spent on cake or fun. So way ahead of planned schedule we buggered off back to the car and went to see where else we could get to.

The Bodmin Moor of my childhood was not the Bodmin Moor of my middle age. Either there has been a new road built across the moor in the 30 or so years since my last visit or my dad took us across Bodmin Moor along some weird unmarked B road. So much so, by the time we had reached Bodmin I was like “Oh, we’re here already”.

Bodmin Steam Railway @ Bodmin GeneralBodmin was interesting. Well what we saw through the car windows. But with only shops and more money wanting to be spent we thought another stop mooching round a provincial town was not on the cards. So when the only place to park for free was up a side street alongside Bodmin General, part of the Bodmin Steam Railway, we thought “But a steam train ride might be fun!”

So that’s what we did. We bought 2 tickets to Boscarne and boarded the chuffing chuffer.

It was fun!

IMG_0550Badger enjoyed it too!

IMAG0231

When we returned we stopped for a cream tea.

Full of cake and after a bit of geocaching, we hopped back into the car and headed toward Polperro via Lostwithiel. Lostwithiel is described as the Medieval Capital of Cornwall. Again, it was quaint, children were playing in the river and shops seemed open.

One thing we had noticed during our time in the Southwest was that everyone seemed to be so miserable. Shop keepers and ice cream van men were no exception. I can only imagine that the misery was down to the lack of boobs on display. Cornwall needs more boobs. Or cake. Or maybe just a tickle.

PolperroAnyway, before misery got a grip, we headed off again, this time to Polperro. My nan and granddad visited Polperro when they were alive. I remember leafing through their photograph album at the pretty houses and narrow streets. Indeed it was. Narrow, quaint, overpriced and packed with tourists. Having been fleeced £4 for parking we wandered into the village to try and find somewhere to eat. We were a bit early and all the restaurants seemed to do nice fish dishes. Sadly none were open until half an hour after our parking expired and I didn’t feel like paying a further £4-£8 just to stuff my face. Our minds were made up by the time we had reached the quayside that we would head off to Looe and see if there was any other nice places to eat instead.

But before we could turn round and make our way back, a woman offered us a boat ride along the coast. How could we refuse?

So that’s what we did.

looeOn our return we made our way back through the tourists to the car and drove off to Looe. Looe reminded me of Skegness without the wind amusement arcades or Victoriana. It was heaving with tourists of the lower orders. Police men, our first since leaving the midlands, were talking to shouty drunk youths. Haggard teen mothers were dragging their screeching urchins. Young girls with more tattoos and piercings than a freak show jostled with loud shouty short haired scallies for chips from the harbour chippy. But our guidebooks insisted that there was good eating to be had somewhere in Looe.

And yes. They were right. We stopped for dinner at the Smuggler’s Cot in Looe where I had the biggest Lemon Sole (and bones) I’ve ever seen. It was delicious! Meanwhile Zoe struggled with her mammoth 20oz D cut rump steak. She assured me that was delicious too.

Holiday 2012: Part 2–Day3 Touring Torquay

After the rather soggy Tuesday I was three quarter expecting the Wednesday to be a wash out as well. It started off overcast so I wasn’t entirely optimistic about the weather.

We had decided to have a trip over the Dart Moor and visit Widecome in the Moor where there is a haunted inn. I had this romantic image of Dartmoor. Rolling plains with Tors and rocks and ponies and goblins and ruined crofts and weirdness and Kate Bush and floaty types and a scary gothic foreboding Victorian prison and a sign saying “Abandon ye hope” and a solitary pub called “The Slaughtered Lamb”, Uncle Tom Cobleigh and all.

I guess I spent too much time in Yorkshire.

Sure we saw some ponies and some stones and some tors, but the lack of crofts, pubs and prisons almost outweighed the lack of Kate Bush prancing about in a floaty dress.

Anyway, we made our way across the moor and into the sleepy Yorkshiresque village of Widecome in the Moor. You might know Widecome from the folk song Widecome Fayre or you might not. Or you might know Widecome from the Great Storm of some time long ago where the Devil blew up the church. Or you might know Widecome in the Moor from page 7 of your 1976 AA Road Atlas. Either way it is a lovely place. It was there we had breakfast. Our second and last, Full English breakfast of the week. All that meat blocks your insides you know.

Widecome has loads of interesting things like the old church and ancient wells. The Old Inn in Widecome is a haunted inn from Marc Alexander’s Haunted Inns (1973).  The story goes that you can hear the cries of a child and possibly even see the spectre of a man. Bollocks or not? Who knows.

 

From Widecome we headed back into civilization and into Torquay.

I’m sorry but my next statement might upset some people.

Torquay is a dump.

There I’ve said it.

My mental image of Torquay is sandy beaches and long sweeping promenades lined with palm trees, cafés and a harbour full of luxury yachts.  Instead it was streets full of chavs, tattooed Tommys and indiscreet Escorts. Sure there were some palm trees and yes there were some yachts but the streets had handy information notices warning the residents that their excessive drinking threatens the safety of their children and their development. Not “It’s so Bracing” or “Buy our Rock” more like “Drinking makes your children into awful people like you” and “Chavviness is born through nurture not nature”.

IMAG0723We walked to the breakwater and bawked at the cost of entrance fee to the Sea Life centre – £11.75. So £23.50 better off in pocket, we decided to try and find some geocaches. Our searching took us to a little stony beach behind the Sea Life Centre which, incidentally, we could see inside from the outside. It was on the beach we were shortly joined by a dark haired woman in her late 40s walking her dogs. She was talking on her telephone giving the caller assurances that she was good looking and that he wouldn’t be disappointed and that she lived in a discrete house and discretion was her watchword for the price he would be paying.

We left.

Made our way back to the car via an amusement arcade where Zoe won me a gold £ on the tuppenny pushnshoves followed by a direct run to the car and a continuation of our journey southward.

The roads took us towards the misnamed Slapton Sands. Misnamed because Slapton Gravels doesn’t have the same ring to it. The weather had brightened and there were lots of people there enjoying the sun and sea. In such situations I crave ice cream so joy lightened my life when I was able to buy a 99 from the ice cream van there.

Now I was always of the opinion that the top five of miserable people doing jobs went something like this:

81 bus driver
Post office counter clerk
Surveyor
Surly Pot man in a dodgy pub
Mortician

But I now have to move Ice Cream Van Man at Slapton Bits of Stone Sands to the top. I actually felt like apologising for wanting to give him my money for his overpriced wares.

From there we went via Start Point (another overpriced place; £4 parking and another £5 for a look round the lighthouse) to Salcombe.

 

IMAG0731Salcombe is a bit like Torquay should have been only without all the posh wazzaks poncing about at the Regatta that was taking place there. It was a complete polar opposite to Torquay only with awful children instead of awful parents.

Hunger got the better of us so we made our way back to Plymouth searching for a Chinese restaurant that wasn’t full.

Chav School

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Every year, in Britain, thousands of young people struggle to find things to do.

chav

The more fortunate can often be found wandering the streets aimlessly like mindless zombies looking for a tiny piece of recognition or attention from anyone who cares to give it whereas the less fortunate, hanging around off licences threatening adults into purchasing them alcohol, wearing ill fitting clothes and occasionally sat on mopeds paid for by their unloving, uncaring, sofa bound TV addicted parents .

chavs However there are those teenagers who are not so fortunate. Those that stay at home, watch TV, do homework, use the internet, read books or meet up with friends at the local park for a chat and maybe some harmless play. It is these youths that really need your help.

We at CHAV School offer numerous educational, nutritional and rehabilitational services to empower these poor unfortunate bedroom, park and library bound youths to become less functional and less valuable members of the community. With your donation of just £1 (less than the price of a quality Saturday board sheet newspaper) we can help to provide the following:

Car Wreck/vandalism

Education

Our ill equipped and badly supervised classrooms encourage the youth to become less focussed on their work and more focussed on craving attention. We educate and train these youngsters on our highly acclaimed courses such as:

  • Damaging Cars
  • Litter Dropping for Beginners;
  • Ch@ 5p33k Is kn0t 4 1am0rzzz wtf omg lollzzorzz;
  • Successful and Offensive Graffito;
  • Shoplifting;
  • How to Swear at Passers-by;
  • The Child Act & You – How Adults Are Unable to Do a Thing to Stop You Doing Things;

and our increasingly popular course

  • Knifing People and How to Get Away With It.

Street Skills

– We train youths in valuable Street Skills including:

  • The art of loitering at bus stops in a threatening manner;
  • The correct way of vandalising a phone boxes;
  • How to appear cool by doing things that would normally be seen as ridiculous;
  • Dropping takeaway meals so as to cause an obstruction.

As the youth progress through our courses they may even move on to advanced topics such as:

  • Urinating and Defecating without Shame,
  • 1001 Things to Do When Intoxicated

and

  • Giving Cheek to Teachers, Elders and Police Officers. 101

We also encourage our children to display their handy work in local bus shelters and telephone boxes.

Nutrition

stockphotopro_69355543VNP_no_title  Science has proven that balanced diets of fruit, nuts and vegetables, clean water, protein and carbohydrates are detrimental to a child’s development.

It is well known that growing teens require a steady intake of hydrogenated fat, sugar and alcohol.

Your CHAV School donation allows us to provide sustenance to our rescued children in the form of Kebab meat, pizza, fizzy pop and sweets.

Our highly skilled nutritionists help advise the youth on how to adapt their diet, for example Diamond White instead of apple juice, chips in curry sauce instead of banana sandwich on whole-wheat granary bread. We also encourage children under our care to consume vital behaviour adapting additives, flavourings and colourings. This then encourages successful social and physical development.

 

Rehabilitation

6a00d8341c793d53ef00e5503cae5a8834-640wi Many of the children that come to us are, unfortunately, well dressed, courteous and polite. Brainwashed by uncaring, antisocial parents who concentrate selfishly on their own status amongst their peers.

We at CHAV School provide correct and suitable garments for teenagers copied from leading designs and supplied to us by a bloke off the market who can do us a good deal on Burberry.

Our highly skilled youth workers encourage the teens to express themselves in mumbles and grunts rather than clear, enunciated vocabulary. At times this can be traumatic but we believe this is for the child’s own good.

 

Preparation for Life after 18

We educate our chavs and chavettes into becoming valueless members of society, without whom society would not be able to provide such social services as Policing.

We even help them customise their cars with flared exhausts and subwoofers. We help them find a suitable mating partner (if they haven’t done so already) so that they can propagate this important way of life.

Family and Community Work

594073694_b78341cd63 We don’t just do stuff for kids. We work closely with affected families and help provide parents with widescreen plasma TVs, educate them into being thoughtful adults that care that they don’t know where they children are and what they are doing.

We also provide courses for parents such as:-

  • Apathy: How Not To Give A Shit;
  • Your Kids are As Good As Gold Anyone That Disagrees is obviously a Paedophile;
  • Shouting Matches for Beginners;
  • Swearing at Children the Healthy Way;

and our most popular

  • Making Eastenders More Important than your Child.

We also work with communities in the following ways: by encouraging the construction and development of derelict buildings for arson attacks; removal of litter bins; Provision of bus shelters and telephone boxes for social gatherings and art displays and by reducing harmful facilities such as youth clubs, organisations and the like.

But without your donation we cannot do this most important work. We know you care and we know our schemes are valuable to society as a whole. So make your donation today. Because Britain needs more chavs.


This post originally appeared on Livejournal

Local News – Famous Nobody switches on some fairy lights

It was the switching on of the christmas lights in Barnsley last night. I didn’t go, I wasn’t told about it until about an hour before hand. I also didn’t go because it wasn’t me that was asked to switch on the lights, which of course, I am deeply bitter about. Still. Who wants fame eh? Frightfully awful people with bad cocaine habits and questionable taste in sexual activities probably.

Continue reading “Local News – Famous Nobody switches on some fairy lights”

A message from our Sponsors

Every year, in Britain, thousands of young people struggle to find things to do. The more fortunate can often be found wandering the streets aimlessly like mindless zombies looking for a tiny piece of recognition or attention from anyone who cares to give it whereas the less fortunate, hanging around off licences threatening adults into purchasing them alcohol, wearing ill fitting clothes and occasionally sat on mopeds paid for by their unloving, uncaring, sofa bound TV addicted parents . However there are those teenagers who are not so fortunate. Those that stay at home, watch TV, do homework, use the internet, read books or meet up with friends at the local park for a chat and maybe some harmless play. It is these youths that really need your help.

Dig deep you heartless bastards

Local chavs

Surely there is some legal way of administering obnoxious little shits that clearly need a sound clout across the head a sound clout across the head.

Without getting into trouble.

Local chav kids are being shits again. I fear no matter how many youth clubs, social schemes or the like councils provide for them they’re still going to be little shits needing a sound clout across the head.

Maybe it can become a new Yorkshire tradition.

Chav clouting.

Yes I approve.

Fun with Strychnine Volume 1

Chav palace
Should have been a quiet pint.
Last night I was in the pub. This you already know.

What I didn’t tell you is about the little darling with the football. Awww bless. NOT.

There I was sat enjoying the sounds of nature in the deserted enclosed beer garden reading my newspaper and drinking my beer. Eventually a family of undesirables arrived and sat at the table by the door to the beer garden. The Not-Waltons arrived

Buses

Buses in Liverpool have had a No Smoking policy for sometime, although I think that rule only applies to the passengers and not the engines of old dilapidated buses that some of the bus companies run. However, that doesnt stop the majority of under 21’s sitting on the back seat chuffing away hiding their burning butts in their cupped hands.

Today was no exception.

If I do have to get the bus I try to sit as near to the front as possible, normally because the intimidating types tend to congregate at the back; gob, urinate, leave curries or deface the seats and also because Liverpool bus drivers think they’re a cross between Benny Goodman and Ayrton Sennacot, speed past your stop and unless you have lightning reflexes and the balance of an acrobat you end up at the Pier Head when you want to get off at Brownlow Hell. Unfortunatley, all the seats at the front where empty so reluctantly I had to join the rough types at the back. School kids mainly, you know the sort, the ones that just loafed about at school, no ambition to succeed, as far as they’re concerned “why bother?”. Sure enough they were smoking ciggies and being generally obnoxious.

Their conversation brought a grin to my face (although I internalized the grin for fear of getting my head kicked in so it probably looked like I had wind or toothache).

Scally 1: yeah an’ like i was ded chonged like lahhh *
Scally 2: waz ya? I was chongin’ from like 7 till 4:15 last night
Scally 1: yeah well I once chonged from like 4 till 4:30

Obviously a bollocks “one-up-manship” competition was going on. This amuzing competition continued with

Scally 2: I had 21 packets of cigs the other day…smoked the lot of them
Scally 1: yeah well I once smoked 10 packs before 12 then when we went out we had another 17 packs….it was great

It was a wonder they were still alive!!

Anyway, further adventures on the bus involved :-

  • a woman with the same model phone as me
  • a child wiping its nose on the seat, Mum didnt give a shit
  • emotionless people crammed like sardines
  • drivers still using mobile phones when driving
  • a woman driving her kids to school in her dressing gown and nightie
  • a woman bottle feeding her child while driving at 30 mph (towards traffic lights)

Its a wonder any of us are still alive!

*Translation Corner*

Chonged – Stoned, normally through use of pot/ganja
Chongin – smoking pot/ganja
lahhh abrv. Lad , similar to mate, buddy, pal, chum

I hate buses.