London in 2012, not London 2012

Think of this as a bump... with pictures.

Half way between a giant anteater and a baboon

Away for a week, where two really good days sandwiched one really bad day... and the rest were average. I spent a lot of time reading; finishing The Shipping News and the larger part of Kerouac’s On The Road - more on that later.

Little Miss R spent an age on the beach building sand castles - or more accurately demolishing mine - and digging a large hole in the sand which inexplicably she was determined to fill with water; this was - I later found out - her favourite part of the holiday. Later that day she had her first swim in the sea - which was my favourite part of the holiday.

The following day she was sick, so sick; I have never seen so much produced by someone so little, and for so long. Was it the small taste of seawater, the ridiculously large meal or too much time in the sun? It’s to her credit she was uninterested in blame, and it was probably my fault.

If a first swim in the sea was the moment, the best day was a visit to Paignton Zoo. How pedestrian I am, yet it’s never easy finding the balance in our band of three. It’s a big zoo and fills much of the day - perhaps five hours; I am thus satisfied with a long walk whilst Little Miss R - amongst other creatures - is content with a cool Kangaroo. It’ll do.

…and on the way home I saw the sun

After a week at work most Fridays end with me slumped in the sofa late evening and falling asleep in front of the television. This week was a short family holiday that ended with me slumped in the sofa late evening and falling asleep in front of the television. I have fallen out of love, if it ever was love, with CenterParcs. Aside from a hint of blue sky on the Tuesday afternoon it wasn’t until I drove home that I finally got to see the sun. The rest of the time it rained… and rained... and rained.

Of course this is hardly the fault of my hosts, but just as good weather can excuse, the poor weather exposed the faults. Because when things are a bit shit you kind of want to make up for it at the end of the day with, for example, a half-decent meal. Alternatively you could try eating at Hucks, an American themed diner offering a ‘Juniors buffet’ for £5.50; or as my daughter found out, five empty hot plates. I tell myself, so long as my daughter enjoys herself then nothing else really matters, and lack of food notwithstanding she did. But I didn’t.

What a difference a week makes; 168 little hours

At the end of one holiday it’s cliché to comment that one feels like another but… perhaps I should take two weeks out next time around. So what difference does a week really make? I’ll tell you; four films, two guinea pigs, a couple of days out and the BBC iPlayer… and I really regret the guinea pigs, though I had little say in the matter. However the BBC via their iPlayer enabled me to catch up on back episodes of The Street, and a week where I can watch a few films, all for the first time, could never be classed a write-off.

I have a weakness for American sports dramas though I am guilty of neither appreciating the sport nor understanding the rules. Baseball is a statistical cul-de-sac, rounders with a bigger bat, yet we have The Natural. Basketball is despite the points utterly pointless, yet we have Hoop Dreams - one of the best documentaries I’ve ever seen. American gridiron football yesterday provided me with Friday Night Lights. Living in the UK I can’t vouch for accuracy, but it felt real. It helps knowing that this particular film was based on a real life season of the Permian Panthers, the football team of Permian High School in Odessa, Texas. Elements are shot in a documentary style yet it also includes the formulaic father-living-on-past-glories and the cocky-yet-likable athlete who you know is going to come undone. Perhaps the best sports dramas are really human dramas. It’s rather like an intelligent compassionate love story set in Paris; I can’t vouch for accuracy but if it feels real it doesn’t make me feel so bad - sometimes quite the opposite.

Drying out

Due to circumstances beyond my control I found myself travelling by train into work this morning. Thankfully I actually like travelling by train; until recently it was my regular mode of transport for many years. The journey may have taken twice as long compared to my car but somehow it was more… civilised. It might also have proven cheaper had I learnt to resist my early morning coffee (£1.75) and danish (£1.40ish) - the breakfast of kings. It was certainly safer than driving since concentrating first thing in the morning isn't one of my stronger points. So despite a heavy work load ahead, which truth be told I prefer, I enjoyed the journey in; I even managed a smile when I saw my train was running late – it was like old times.

I've come back from a weekend break in Center Parcs. It's hugely overpriced and the antithesis of thinking for yourself. However there were two aspects that appealed to me; it wasn't too far to drive and... I didn't have to think for myself. But I digress; I had a really good time and since I hadn't been looking forward to it at all it was a pleasant surprise. I'm still drying out from the endless time I spent in the pool with my six year old daughter, and I must be getting soft because when she told me she'd really enjoyed her holiday I couldn't stop myself from grinning.

Smiling after holiday and smiling on the way to work… now there’s a puzzle.