A small holiday in Hele.

The car exhaust (although apparently not, based on an exhaust check-up this weekend at KwikFit) was making a bit of a noise so I had to make a decision on the Friday morning as to whether or not we should go or not. I had a ton of marking and what with the dreadful black of the end of hols beginning to sink its rotten teeth into my happiness. . Anyway we decided it would be silly not to go and whilst the car is noisy it doesn't feel wrong or bad.

We drove down on the old A30 via Oakhampton which was quite nice, we made good time and got to the caravan park in about two and a half hours. We arrived at about 4:00, the check-in process was staggered and we were located towards the end, so spent a slightly grating 20 minutes in the company of northern families, universally big, red, sporting multiple babies and pints. . . They (of course) carry out the last minute sales pitch upon arrival - for only £££ you can upgrade to premier, prestige or god like accommodation etc. When I enquired about the next level up from our bottom of the range economy caravan I was informed that as well as a Microwave Oven it had heating in each room. This rather alarmed me by planting the sense that the bedrooms in our caravan would be freezing, however conscious of poverty I elected not to upgrade anything. We finally got to our caravan at about 4:45 and were pleasantly suprised. It was clean spacious and modern. In fact it was quite charming. I have tons of photos, but they are at home and I am at work so they will have to be forwarded at a later date. Everyone on the campsite smokes, and I must admit we did allow ourselves a weekends relapse.

Life in the Caravan for those two short nights was simply amazing, I think the small scale nature of everything, having to keep the one large kitchen/lounge clean. Washing up after each cup of tea, shopping for each meal etc all contributed to a reassuring sense of a small and somehow more manageable world and existence. All of the heaving complexity and chaos of life were forgotten and replaced with a world so small it was knowable in its entirety without any of the anxiety inducing scale of normal life. In this sense I think this is the first adult holiday I have ever had. Before they have always been an excuse to get messy or an expedient caving-in to the wishes of another.

So having been fleeced at the over-priced and monopolistic Spar we sat down and made our first Caravan cuppa. We decided to wonder down the road to the cliff-side pub for our tea and abandoned early any attempts to maintain our (faltering) diets. Our spirits were high and we wondered together along the road for 5 minutes, holding hands with Lyra in the middle. On these occasions she likes to be trated to what she refers to as '1,2 3's' which consist of her counting these numbers and then being lifted whilst jumping on the final count. Enjoyabale and yet quite damaging to one's sense of shoulder well being. Everything including the salad garnish (more garnish than salad) seemed to be soaked in vegetable oil. Our vision of a charming independent public house soon evaporated as it became clear that like everything else made of plastic or charging money in a 2 mile radius it was in fact owned by Haven. We settled at a table outside adjacent to the children's play area and sat close against the wind (girl feels no cold) sipping our Newcastle brown ales and forking fat chips. We stayed for a couple of hours, soaking in the sea and allowing some of the wrinkles of a confined journey and hectic life to depart. We walked back to our temporary home fat and content, although perhaps feeling a little greasy. . .

That evening was sweet and largely followed the templates of our evenings at home, girl managed to get to bed after the reading of some stories (she elected to bring several Dr Who annuals in addition to her newly acquired sonic screwdriver) and was very good about being in this alien environment. Me and my clever beautiful wife talked and drank and talked some more. We had a small television, which seemed quite cheery and somehow in keeping with the holiday, it was left on most of the evening and bleated out it's pleasantly numbing narratives involving Police chases and people who felt ugly or fat and people who felt angry and scared at the way they raised their children. . I'm sure you know better than me the nature of TV entertainment. We talked as we often do about our happinesses and worries and how lucky we feel.

The next morning was dominated by one thing: cold. I can't believe how cold our little home became in the morning. In an effort to raise enough warmth to prevent my own breath from steaming no only was the lounge calor-gas heater engaged, but also all four of the gas rings on the stove. After some 30 minutes an only midly painful chill remained. As often happens girl awoke next and joined me, we watched some children's TV (a rare treat almost on the same scale of excitement as yoghurt) and lay together on the sofa. Girl had terribly cold hands when she woke up. My lovely wife arose and joined us on the curved L shaped sofa that run the length of the lounge area. We drank much tea and I cooked us a remarkably tasty but low fat grilled Vege breakfast of Toms, waffles, beans, toast, scrambled egg and mushrooms. A last minute Tomato Ketchup run to the Spar enhanced the occasion. With 11 o'clock begining to itch we decided we would head to St Ives for a day at the beach. We packed up some lunch bits, stopped at the supermarket to restock Wine and bits and purchased a little disposable BBQ.

We set off along the Hayle road and as the signs for Carbis Bay came into site we decided to change our plans. So strong was the Carbis lure and so palpable my desire to share that thread of my won childhood with my family we ended up there. It was divine. Metsake we drove passed Lilliputs and got within metres of Grandma's house. Thoughts of scampering there with you on the obligatory Bournville mission filled me. All of the smells and feelings of boyhood rushed to assemble at the front of my mind, I though of you and smiled a lot. We drove the car all the way down to a little beach car-park, offered up the princely sum of £2 and walked the 20 metres to the beach. It was a beautiful warm day and one of those which seems to underline the yellow of sand and the blues of sea and sky. The world looks like the cover of a National Geographic magazine on such days. Despite the clement conditions the beach was virtually deserted, I think no more than a dozen other people were on it. We had a lovely afternoon. The rotten starfish that's been my travelling companion in the car since girl liberated it from Dawlish was finally offered up its freedom. Girl scampered and skipped and both she and my lovely wife allowed the white waves to nip and break on their feet and heels. I was able to quite put aside all thoughts of work and money and enjoyed myself greatly. After perhaps three hours we sauntered back to the car and drove home. That evening we feated on BBQ'd vege burgers, toms, peppers and mushrooms. We watched Dr Who together on the sofa, with girl making admirable contributions to the Dr's own adventures through the application of her own Sonic Screwdriver. After girl fell asleep we drifted into the ritual of our evening and talked long and honestly about things that have passed. Never have I known it possible to feel so known by another, we talked and as so often it is our conversation was affirming and beautiful. I am the luckiest boy in the world.

Having become adept at the best methods for injecting humane temperatures into the caravan I was able to raise the ambient temp quite quickly, my breath only fogging the place for about 15 minutes. We got up, ate a more modest breakfast of toast and tea. Whilst Candy dressed, me and girl scampered off to the on site playground for ten minutes. We walked down the pub road, but this time continued all the way down to the beach at Hayle. It was another glorious affair. Lots of natural rock pools and a free flowing (and repeatedly dammable) stream. Girl played super games with half a dozen other children as they balanced the whims of construction and destruction that the beach fosters in children. I sat close to my wife and shared a sense of the passing of time and a return to the worries of normal life. We ate and decided to spend our last few hours looking around St. Ives. We walked back to the car and headed along the road. We parked the car and begain the steep descent down into St. Ives. It was quite lovely, lots of independent and interesting shops. Lots of clothes for babies and children that verged on being to die for. For the first time in my life lately I have been conscious of wanting more money, never for its own sake, but merely as a means of giving Candy and girl pretty things from time to time. . . Me and girl had sun sticky ice-creams as we walked the winding streets of St. Ives. I managed to nip into a sweet shop and purchase three of the truffles that Candy is fond of. We then spent around an hour trying to locate the car-park we had used. Sound familiar Metska? We decided to take a different way back and to journey via Plymouth. This proved somewhat ill advised as there would seem to have been a serious accident and there were quite lengthy jams and tailbacks. As we moved through the sirens and lights scene I though I'd seen a body lying covered on a stretcher. Candy was inclined to suggest she'd seen a neck-brace. It felt odd passing through the time and place of another's death, although given our different perceptions - perhaps it was merely the time and place of a terrible accident. The journey home took about three and a half hours and I must admit hankering to be wrapped in the blue patterned duvets of youth and sprawled in the foot-well of the back of the car. As we drew closer to home I felt a Tuppence like sense of excitement. I'm always filled with an excite mixture of relief and happines when I can visually confirm that our little house is still intact. We spent that evening with Candy hand writing out the essays she needed to mark, whilst I completed some awful redundancy papers and about why I should not be one of the five to be sacked. . . We slept well, stayed up a bit too late in an attempt to keep Monday at bay and resolved to go back soon.