"Ho-De-Bloody-Ho!"

News comes to me of me Uncle Eddie and Auntie Doreen who rolled back the years and went off to for a break at Pontin´s in Southport for old times sake. (We all went together there on holiday about 40 years ago). By the sound of things it hasn´t changed much since then, - not even the curtain material. Stories of  scabby wardrobes with one coathanger - and a spare for emergencies, and of an over zealous smoke alarm - Eddie had to waft it with a newspaper just so they could boil 2 eggs, had me chortling away and judging by his ensuing texts messages things didn´t improve over much.
"Just got ere, talk about bloody "He-Di-Hi". Place is tiny, can´t get electric on and wife doesn´t like it - hasn´t unpacked". Then later on that night. "Ballroom full of kids, - didn´t they used to march the little buggers out at 9pm? - we´re off to pub across the road.
Two hours later. - "Back in Ballroom, still full of kids, some arshole jumping about in a monkey suit - we´re off to bed". And then finally next day. "I´ve had enough, it´s pissing down and all they´ve got on is bloody Morris Dancing! - for about 5 hours. Off to club, not theirs - OURS.  We´re off home."
Weekend break eh? - aye, it certainly broke him alright.