morecambe: at least it's not blackpool
Jan. 26th, 2011 06:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycol"I was going to apologise to Richie," Dad said, "but frankly enough I'm not related to the buggars either. Also, I happen to really like the National Ukelele Orchestra of Great Britain but this is more than I can cope with."
It was an interesting weekend. Richie arrived on the Thursday and by Friday afternoon we had managed to book Wedding Related Things and leave the house with plenty of time to spare. Unfortunately, I had failed to notice that the route to Morecambe is directly through Lancaster, so I neatly hit a city centre as the schools all let out for the day. This was possibly a bad omen.
However, I managed not to hit any small children or swear too loudly at the SatNav and arrived at Morecambe itself. We found the hotel mostly by accident, and upon booking in discovered it to be a hovel, and in a room next door to my parents. Already I wasn't feeling too enthused about Morecambe, but the weekend was only just beginning. After meeting up with parents and then saying hello to grandparents, we decided as a family unit (this now includes Richie, rather sweetly) to go and start drinking. After a brief interlude to get dressed, we headed out into frostly Morecambe to the other hotel and had a delightful meal with approximately the entire OAP population of Worcestershire. There were a fair few random relatives of mine there, all of whom greeted me with "Oooh, you look like your mother at that age" or one occasion telling me that "Julie, you haven't aged a day!" Julie is my mother so yes, that would be why she has apparently not aged.
The evenings entertainment was bingo and a multi-instrumentalist that wasn't a one-man band but instead someone playing a variety of instruments, all badly. Richie and I took to drink, and called a pizza on the way back to the hotel. The night porter at our hotel had clearly never seen anything so bizarre, and told every single guest coming back in about it. This, apparently, is the kind of place Morecambe is.
The next day we went to Amblesideby ourselves. This was a much better activity for the day. Although it was freezing cold, I didn't remember the Lake District being so pretty! We also had the Best Lunch Ever, although perhaps that was the hangover talking.
After heading back and having a well-earned nap, we braced ourselves for another evening of entertainment. It turns out old ladies get really really angry over bingo, but it was quite good fun to watch. We then endured three hours of ukelele, played by a 22 year old who is apparently the musical director of the George Formby society. Oh dear. He played many, many, many forties songs, all in the style of George Formby. The Louis Armstrong section was particularly awful. Thank god for vodka. Grandad did his party piece. His party piece is doing Al Jolson, who was a very good singer and according to Wikipedia and all round solid guy. He also used to perform in blackface. Go on, just guess what Grandad did. Just guess.
I love my grandfather, but I am not proud on this one.
So that was Saturday. It was a relief to leave on Sunday, to be honest. It was nice for Richie to be accepted by my family, and I know that Grandad was really pleased that we were all there, but ugh ugh ugh.
Richie stayed at mine for a few days longer, but left this morning. Alas. I am going to spend this evening eating Maltesers and catching up on telly.
It was an interesting weekend. Richie arrived on the Thursday and by Friday afternoon we had managed to book Wedding Related Things and leave the house with plenty of time to spare. Unfortunately, I had failed to notice that the route to Morecambe is directly through Lancaster, so I neatly hit a city centre as the schools all let out for the day. This was possibly a bad omen.
However, I managed not to hit any small children or swear too loudly at the SatNav and arrived at Morecambe itself. We found the hotel mostly by accident, and upon booking in discovered it to be a hovel, and in a room next door to my parents. Already I wasn't feeling too enthused about Morecambe, but the weekend was only just beginning. After meeting up with parents and then saying hello to grandparents, we decided as a family unit (this now includes Richie, rather sweetly) to go and start drinking. After a brief interlude to get dressed, we headed out into frostly Morecambe to the other hotel and had a delightful meal with approximately the entire OAP population of Worcestershire. There were a fair few random relatives of mine there, all of whom greeted me with "Oooh, you look like your mother at that age" or one occasion telling me that "Julie, you haven't aged a day!" Julie is my mother so yes, that would be why she has apparently not aged.
The evenings entertainment was bingo and a multi-instrumentalist that wasn't a one-man band but instead someone playing a variety of instruments, all badly. Richie and I took to drink, and called a pizza on the way back to the hotel. The night porter at our hotel had clearly never seen anything so bizarre, and told every single guest coming back in about it. This, apparently, is the kind of place Morecambe is.
The next day we went to Amblesideby ourselves. This was a much better activity for the day. Although it was freezing cold, I didn't remember the Lake District being so pretty! We also had the Best Lunch Ever, although perhaps that was the hangover talking.
After heading back and having a well-earned nap, we braced ourselves for another evening of entertainment. It turns out old ladies get really really angry over bingo, but it was quite good fun to watch. We then endured three hours of ukelele, played by a 22 year old who is apparently the musical director of the George Formby society. Oh dear. He played many, many, many forties songs, all in the style of George Formby. The Louis Armstrong section was particularly awful. Thank god for vodka. Grandad did his party piece. His party piece is doing Al Jolson, who was a very good singer and according to Wikipedia and all round solid guy. He also used to perform in blackface. Go on, just guess what Grandad did. Just guess.
I love my grandfather, but I am not proud on this one.
So that was Saturday. It was a relief to leave on Sunday, to be honest. It was nice for Richie to be accepted by my family, and I know that Grandad was really pleased that we were all there, but ugh ugh ugh.
Richie stayed at mine for a few days longer, but left this morning. Alas. I am going to spend this evening eating Maltesers and catching up on telly.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-26 07:05 pm (UTC)