FEATURE
Go West! © LUCIA FOSTER-FOUND 2021
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he looked up from her tablet. The light of the zealot in her eyes. “Holiday! We need a holiday. It would be so nice.” Would it though? He was a big fan of the West country. She, on the other hand, was a big fan of other countries.
Mmnnnn. Aaand.. she was off the starting blocks. “Spain? I’ve been dreaming of paella.” His shoulders slumped. Paella – really? In his opinion if nature intended chickens to occupy the same plate as mussels and prawns, they’d have fins not wings. “Dependant on ‘traffic lights’, Darling – but, and I hesitate to mention it, do you remember you had the squit.. I mean, some gastro-intestinal issues in Lloret de Mar? Spent two days running to and from the bathroom. Poor you..” He adopted a sympathetic expression. Misty-eyed she recalled “It was our first foreign holiday together. I was so young. So carefree. SO ill.. Yes, perhaps not there.” That was a narrow squeak; he breathed a sigh of relief. But she’d already washed up on more distant shores. “Greece?” He nodded. “Cradle of civilization, but never any hot water for showers. That bar next door playing music until two in the morning and hey, didn’t you step on a sea urchin?” He pseudosighed. “Happy days.” “Memory of an elephant.” She muttered as a frown creased the skin between her brows. “Egypt then? Amazing antiquities; the sphinx, the pyramids?” Sounding slightly less optimistic than before, though. Promising. “You got the trot… I mean, some more gastro-intestinal issues on our Nile cruise. Positively galloped around the Temple of Karnak looking for the loos – impressive turn of speed in all that heat.” His chuckles faded as he spotted her narrow-eyed stare. “Sorry, Darling. Besides, the Foreign Office advice isn’t superchirpy just now.” Time to steer her away from the hot-as-Hades Mediterranean region altogether. “Perhaps somewhere cooler, somewhere closer to home..?” he hinted. Eyes wide, she exclaimed “Good idea! Iceland. Glaciers, waterfalls and Northern lights.” Re-invigorated, she’d changed tack. Wily. He’d have to think fast. “Not much in the way of relics and you know you like a bit of history.” Was it a strong enough gambit? He waited, watching, whilst she mulled over his latest impediment. He thought she might be wavering.
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“Which is why I love Greece so much.” She’d u-turned back to the Hellenic land of the Gods. He was getting whiplash keeping up. She further enthused “ruins, museums, plus great food; souvlaki, stifado, moussaka! In Greece, I’ve never, EVER needed to trot, run or indeed gallop in urgent search of facilities. I haven’t even learned the word for ‘toilet’ in Greek.” She shot him a slightly indignant look. Very true - excellent counterargument. Just as well he had a quick riposte. “Absolutely.” He agreed. She looked momentarily satisfied until he elaborated. “Polar opposite problem. Three days in, it’s bran buds and syrup of figs for you, Darling. I think it might be all that meat..” Pressing his advantage he wheeled out the big guns for a final salvo. “But let’s not forget the dogs. We’ll miss the dogs terribly. AND they’ll cost us a fortune in kennelling. The girls can’t look after them, not with the babies and everything.” Oh, he was good, he’d impressed even himself. She had to concede defeat now, surely? She shrugged. “You’re right of course.” He shoots! He scores! Mental fist pumping. But why was she was beaming at him, looking so suspiciously pleased with herself ? “I was just teasing” she announced. “I thought we’d go West this year. So I’ve booked a dog friendly cottage in Devon for a fortnight. Complete with hot tub and a good pub down the road.” It sounded perfect. Deep joy flooded through him. “It’s got a wood burner” she continued “because, let’s face it, the weather might be cold. I’ll pack our waterproofs, because, let’s face it, it’s bound to rain. And I’ll take the wetsuits, because, let’s face it, the sea is a bit nippy. Hopefully the traffic won’t be too horrific – although it is a bit of a trek and there are extensive road-works en route.” Her face wreathed in smiles, she got up and kissed him. Watching her retreating back as she went to tell the dogs they were going on holiday with mummy and daddy, the words ‘cold’, ‘rain’ and ‘road-works’ lingered in the air. Unexpectedly agreeable, delightful, even wonderful images of holidaying overseas arose in his mind. Diving into warm Mediterranean waters. Lively bars full of music and fun. Exotic wonders of the ancient world. Hot, rejuvenating sun. Tearinducing Northern lights. And paella. Well maybe not the paella. Jumping up out of his seat he sprinted after her, calling as he went “But I’m not ruling out somewhere abroad next year… Darling.. Darling?”
