Breakfast was the predictable menagerie of children swarming around the novelty conveyer belt toaster burning countless slices of white sliced as parents looked over from the temporary bliss of a deserted table.
Crumbs. The children are called things like Jade and Kaleigh and look the part. The dads wear bright white polo shirts and have severely shaved heads with a slightly inflamed pink tinge. The mums all wear fake Ugg boots and jeans with sparkly details on the arse pockets and overuse stretchy wool-nylon polo necked sweaters as they fight losing battles with their muffin tops.
Badly washed plates and leathery bacon rashers sealed together with excess salt. I can’t believe I paid £107.50 for this. It’s definitely time to go home. My cold is in full flow and the wind here is blowing some sort of twisted summer gale through the deceptively sunny sky, which is blue.
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