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What the hell is this thing?
My Week in Newquay
So, after we finished our GCSEs, some of my friends and I went to Newquay (area in the south of England) for a week. There were about 50 of us, some in caravans and some in tents. It was mad.
So, obviously, we had a great time, and I could not describe the whole shebang even if I had the energy to have the desire to do so. So, I'm just going to give you the highlights.
For me, the week started off kind of boring, but increased in enjoyment ********. New word.
So, to give you a rough layout, we settled into a vague kind of schedule, where we would get up about mid-morning, have breakfast, and then spend a couple of hours down at the outdoor pool (superb weather), then have lunch, then head down to the nearby beach until about seven, then come back, have dinner, get drunk, and head back to the beach at about ten, to return at about three.
Some people had a different schedule, one that didn't rotate every 24 hours, but every 12. Get up at nine, get ******** for six hours, pass out at three, and then get up at nine again. I passed on that particular brand of madness.
So anyway, highlights. Three.
1. A drinking game called Ring of Fire. Absolutely superb. My favourite card was probably thumbmaster. Much hilarity. From this game, I learnt that I can hold my drink if I want to. I learnt this lying in a field after half a litre of vodka. But I didn't throw up or pass out, unlike some of the guys, ahem joe swan joe roche ahem.
2. Best buy of my life. Pyjamas that have cookies on them, with writing that says 'come to the dark side, we have cookies'. But here's the kicker - the cookies and the writing glow in the dark. That's right. These come equipped with such superb lines as 'you can see stuff by the light of my trousers' and 'come into this empty room, turn off the lights and look at my trousers'. Jokes.
3. The second to last night. We went swimming at midnight. It was ridiculously hardcore. So cold. But an experience you really have to have. Followed this up by successfully pulling what was generally decided as the fittest guy on the campsite. A feat achieved whilst wearing the aforementioned pyjamas. Turned out he was a p***k, as he did get off with one of my friends the next night, but hey, I had him first. And we will never see him again, because he lives in Reading. But anyway, I got a great tale for my grandkids out of it. I was in his caravan, and it was about five in the morning, and this huge guy just suddenly came in, and started trying to sell us weed, and then coke. We were like, erm, no thanks. Then he caught sight of the half eaten bowl of pasta on the table. That's right. We got a lecture about wasting food, and starving children in Africa, off a drug dealer. Accompanied by his life story, including several anecdotes about various prisons. He says he's learnt his lesson now.

And there we have it. I'll just round it off with some vital stats.

Phrase of the week: More drink, less clothes!
Word of the week: Communal.
Most played song of the week: In For The Kill by La Roux
My favourite song of the week: Paper Planes by M.I.A.
Game of the week: Ring of Fire
Best thing of the week: The atmosphere. It was like a separate universe.
Worst thing of the week: Hmm. Difficult. Is it the southern accents, that grate on the ear? Is it cleaning up after drunkards throw up over your caravan? Or is it the mere presence of John Hardy? Take your pick.

Coming soon: My Week in Germany.





 
 
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