Tag Archives: tourism


There are no jobs left to do. The garden is immaculate (ish), the house is spotless (ish), the scrubs have all been made and delivered to various hospitals, GP surgeries and care homes in the area and I’m BORRRRRRRRRED!!!!!!!
Since the lockdown has been partially lifted, the idiots have taken the PM’s instructions on how to go about daily life with not so much a pinch of salt as a whole salt flat. “You can now travel to take your daily exercise” has been interpreted as, ‘do what the hell you like.’

Tourists, caravans, campers and day trippers have been arriving in their droves. 300 caravans were turned away by the police last weekend and sent back up the motorway from whence they came.

When you live in an area you get to know the locals, you tend to see the same faces day in, day out. Not only that but you can tell a local from a grockle by their general demeanor. Say good morning to them and they’ll stare at you like you’re about to knife them whereas a local will greet you back with a big cheery smile and probably a ten minute chat. At the moment there are lots of strange faces and dogs about.

One couple, obviously not well versed in the art of hiding in plain sight, were sitting on a park bench with their suitcases next to them. I must admit they did look a bit uncomfortable as locals went past them pointing unashamedly and muttering in stage whispers, “Eff off back to where you came from and take your effing germs with you.’

My evening stroll to the pier came to a sudden halt when I realised that there were so many people on the promenade that it would be impossible to keep a safe distance so Douggie the doggie, Betty Blunderbuss and I turned round and went straight back home. Mind you, having two huge dogs in tow, one of which looks as fierce as the other looks cuddly is fairly good for keeping people at arms length.

So where are all these people staying? By law we aren’t allowed to open so what’s going on? Where are all the people without caravans and camper vans staying?

Bloody Air BNB, that’s where. The pariahs of the legitimate B&B community. The people with a spare room who fancy making a bit of extra money, who don’t comply with health and safety and fire regulations and who don’t declare their income. What they do, though is take business from legitimate, compliant business who trade honestly and legally and have been struggling to cope as every Tom, Dick and Harry rents out their spare room.

We have had people phoning and emailing to try and book a room. When we remind them that we are still in lockdown they bluster a bit and then tell us they are key workers. Yeah, and I’m Goldilocks.

So. What else is happening? Absolutely bugger all. Every day is like every other day. We don’t even know what day of the week it is. At least the sun is shining. It’s one of the nicest summers we have had for years.

My days at the moment are spent cleaning, pottering about, cleaning, pottering about, clean….you get the idea. That and walking the dogs. The beach dog ban has been enforced so we can’t go there any more and to be honest there are so mnay people on it we wouldn’t want to be on it anyway.

At the moment we are expecting to be able to open in July. That’s another five weeks. I’m bored now. It’s time this virus did one.

August people

When I talk about August people I do mean ‘August’ people and not ‘august’ people, people that are greatly respected and of the highest social class. We don’t get many of those at any time, (although we did have an Arab princess once), and we definitely don’t get them in August.

So. What exactly are ‘August people’?

They are the people who go on holiday in August. They’re the ones who leave their brains behind when they lock their front door. The ones who stuff their faces till they feel sick because the breakfast is ‘free’ and then sneak out with bananas to eat later although they never do, they leave them in their bedrooms rotting and stinking. The ones who ring the bell in reception causing us to stop whatever we are doing so we can answer some inane question like, “Is the sightseeing bus running?” The ones who disrespect other guests and the property they are staying in, which happens to be our home.

This week alone we have had a man knocking on the door at 10pm. “Hello, he said brightly, I have a reservation.”

“Have you really? I replied, that’s a bit of a surprise because we are full.”

“Well I have a reservation somewhere round here and I can’t remember where and I can’t check it because my phone has died so I just knocked on the first hotel door I came to.”


“Come in, we’ll see if we can work it out for you.” We did.

A couple came to stay with their son and his girlfriend. The couple, very nice, spent the whole week moaning about their son and his partner. When we walked into their room we found out why. They had broken the headboard, the chandelier, got stains all over the carpet, the walls, the walls in the corridor, the mirror, let’s not even discuss the bathroom. The mattress was hanging off the bed. It took a team of us two hours to clean that room and make it fit for the next guests.

On the flip side of that. We have laughed. A lot. Most of the guests are just lovely. Now we are up to the bank holiday weekend and the end is in sight I’m almost sad that it’s coming to an end (almost). In a few days, the Brits will be back at work, the kids will be back at school. The foreign tourists will have gone home and the summer season will be over. Peace and normality will be restored.

Only a few more days to go and We’ve done it. We survived the season.

Now I am looking forward to September and all the lovely things we have planned.