Somerset: Friday September 23, 2005
My last full day in Somerset before Dolly and I hop into the little silver Ford early tomorrow morning to drive home to Lincolnshire. A fortnight later, Graham will rejoin us then, a little while later still, we’ll all of us return together for another short Somerset break to open up the bar for a special Autumn event, then home once more. Repeat one or two more times and then it’ll be Christmas. Unless the house sells, of course…
I’ve never been entirely at home with the holiday camp side of St. Audries. It’s simply not my scene. I feel like a plump, ungainly fish out of water when I touch the world of the happy camper, and especially when I attend one of their ‘entertainments’.
But when I heard that a ‘very good’ Elvis impersonator was to give a show tonight I was daft enough to trot my old bones over to see him. Disappointing. Rather good on the vocals but visually he looked and moved as much like Elvis as I do.
I know that Elvis came from humble beginnings. I doubt he’d have felt at home in this setting, however. And I’m positive he’d have hated the burgers.
So I sidled out, shook my head to rid it of the buzz created by over-amplified sound, and returned to the caravan to join Dolly in a quiet celebration by ourselves.
Hey ho. I should know better.