Holiday Tweetsins

Tweets I Never Sent on Holiday*

– Day 1 –

I drove to weymouth 3 hours non-stop! Go me.

Need coffee. NOW.

Ferries mean a lot of sitting in queues of cars.

I feel sick.

Here at last. This hotel is like a cruise ship.

omg I have no internet, twitter or phone service. I might shrivel and die.

– Day 2 –

Huge banners in the harbour for barclays wealth services: "protection" and "growth".

Learning about sand, sea and wind at Jersey maritime museum, nicely done.

Wandering around St Helier. Some of the people look sickeningly rich.

I forget how much I love the smell of roses

I cannot be trusted with buffet dinners. This is a very unpleasant combination. Like that time I went to a mongolian bbq in belfast.


– Day 3 –

Just passed a school playground sponsored by a bank.

Oh, here already. This island is tiny!

Zoo šŸ™‚ The one where that boy fell in and the silverback kept him safe. Awwww.

Aye ayes, Cute.

This holiday is costing a fortune and the kids are being ungrateful sh1ts.

Oh dear, I have confused son when he asked about gerald durrell memorial statue. Now he thinks he "died and turned into a metal"

Someone teach me restraint at the pudding counter.

– Day 4 –

So full of accumulated buffet I look pregnant. That might be why people are smiling indulgently at me.

St Brelades bay, beautiful.

Sharing olives with two small boys in an expensive crab shack that's not a shack at all. I am so bourgeois it hurts.

Sea slugs, jelly fish and those weird dune worm things. The sea is disgusting.

Oriental beef, curry, and some sort of duck thing in orange and cinnamon. And a vegetable.

– Day 5 –

Well, better make the most of my last free breakfast.

"Amaizin" park pretty cool. Clever avoidance of teletubbies copyright. Tractor ride: healthy 2 fingers up to H&S.

St Helier. Had to drag tantruming son out of posh french department store as he screamed "I want the motorbike".

Overall Jersey is less french than I'd expected. More like Dorset.

Jersey cars seem to either be hugely posh, or fiat 500s. And national speed limit is 40. Probably because you might drive into the sea if you went too fast.

Dread of seasickness approaching, so yeah, why not eat a whole pizza and cookie dough pudding, that'll help.

That ferrari driver looked like a man of ill gotten gains.

Car, ferry, car, home, zzzzzz.

*disclaimer/explanation: I didn't actually write them as tweets, I may have broken the 140 characters rule, geez, allow me some artistic licence. Did you see what I did with the "tweetsins title"? I do seem to now think in tweets, which is very pathetic and annoys my husband but amuses me, so the idea of privately sinning by tweeting in my head is quite fitting.



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