Written by Auntie Jean
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Thursday, 26 December 2013

Sunday: Arriving on the bus in time for a slap up evening meal of Welsh seaweed we discovered that our travel editor had booked us in at a Vegan hotel. At first thinking that Mr. Spock might be there, my excitement was dampened by realising that this was Vegan, not Vulcan.

All the pubs and places of entertainment were closed from September to July for the Monsoon season, so we went to bed.

Monday: A breakfast of oats and cold water set us up for the day. We walked around the preserved ruins of the former Butlin's holiday camp which stood as a monument to Barry Island's former glory. An off licence run by a charming Afghani refugee provided us with anaesthetic whiskey to help shut out the dismal rain lashed world. Retreating to the hotel, we were ordered to remove anything made from animals. We drank the whiskey and read the Gideon Bible out of curiosity.

Tuesday: Having had no sleep due to the lashing rain and the hotel owners fighting all night, it was a relief to be able to leave the bedroom. After breakfasting on brimstone we set off on our planned walk around the Island, only to be told that it wasn't an Island. Dried off and went to bed with two bottles of whiskey.

Wednesday: The only place that was open was the library, but all the books being religious ones in Welsh we bought more whiskey and returned in time for lentils in brine. Retired to our attic room. Constant noise of the owners throwing plates and glasses at each other followed by a police siren and loud church organ music.

Thursday: Open day at the Barry Island junk yard. Many steam locomotives were dismantled by Dr. Belching in the 1960s. Complimentary glass of water. Bus back to off licence and early night. Only the landlord and not his wife around. Bailiffs loading some furniture into a van. Dinner of ground egg shells and corn husks. Settled down for a fight free night of loud Church organ music and Whiskey.

Friday: Breakfast (bacon eggs, the lot) grudgingly slammed down on table, it seems his wife is the vegan but is in a coma in Barry Town hospital. Set off on the bus in rain proofs and wellingtons for Nuclear Power Station open day. Unfortunately closed due to meltdown alarm going off again spuriously. Bus back to hotel, 30 mile diversion due to flooding. Dried off and bought vodka at off licence and a Welsh language newspaper to clean our wellingtons with. Dinner of roast beef and Yorkshire puddings with all the trimmings. We went to bed afterwards to get out of the way of the foul tempered landlord.

Saturday: Landlady back with bandaged head, so breakfast of dry Tapioca. After breakfast due to the howling gale and torrential rain, we went to the off licence and bought six bottles of rum and some Alka Seltzer. Discovered a fixed odds slot machine arcade full of children and spent £1000 in 10 minutes on Poker machines. Pawned the rum to pay the hotel bill and dined on wheat bran before packing and catching the bus back home.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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