Yes, I am back from my holiday in the nether regions of England, which was very amiable, has left you all feeling lost and bereft I'm sure, without a daily dose of my blog. Therefore to satisfy you, I shall describe to you my week in Plymouth, in hopefully the least tiresome way possible. Brace yourselves for a tale of firsts, turtles, bees, and plants.
We set off early Saturday morning only to become caught up in a horrendous traffic jam, caused by a caravan overturning, more proof that caravans are sometimes a little silly. We eventually trundled our way to the guest house, and spent the rest of the evening exploring the area, and playing tennis. Take a moment to just imagine my family and I playing tennis badly. Just thought I'd add a little humour into this story!
On Sunday, we visited the aquarium, which was pretty decent, despite some horrific acting from characters on the interactive videos. My favourite attraction had to be Myrtle the Turtle, although that wasn't her original name, I thought Myrtle was better, who had eyesight problems and kept crashing into the reef. We then spent the afternoon on a historic tour bus which gave us some nice views of the city sights, in spite the slightly less horrific acting of our video historic tour guide and the painful dialogue between said video and the real life tour guide.
Monday was a trip to the beach where my use of sun cream that was meant to help with my tanning ability brought about a tan line of underwhelming proportions, although the sunburn line on my back was very apparent.
Tuesday brought about the event I had been dreading, swimming. Now keep in mind, I had not been swimming since early in year eight, I was petrified of finally unleashing my freshly white legs on the general public. But, sticking to my resolved plan of keeping my legs below the water's surface, I even managed to break in to a sprightly, if a tad rusty, breaststroke.
Mid week we visited the county of Cornwall, for a trip to their famous attraction, the Eden Project. The plants were all really beautiful, and some of them smelt amazing, unfortunately I couldn't enjoy one of the main attractions for the most English of reasons: it was too hot, I sped through the Rainforest biome, like Voldemort was chasing me. The Eden Project did supply me with a new family member however, in the form of a pot Sensitive Plant (mimosa pudica) by the name of Jeffrey.
We spent Thursday perusing the small museums of Plymouth, made in real Elizabethan houses, with some pretty awesome items, like a penny farthing cycle, and real Victorian medicines. This obviously says something about me that this is my idea of awesome. We then went to Buckland Abbey which was the previous home of Sir Francis Drake and was really interesting, and the cherry pie I had in the cafe was delicious too. I also was really interested in my honey smoothie from innocent which came with some flower seeds and a leaflet on how to build a bee home, in their plight to save the bee, giving me a new project to do before summer ends.
Friday was Tonya's birthday, so the morning was spent opening presents and perusing some more small museums. In the afternoon, we went to a matinee performance of Joseph and the Technicolour Dreamcoat at the Plymouth theatre. I must admit, it had never been on my list of musicals to see, but I was truly surprised by how funny and entertaining it was, Lloyd Webber really is the genius they say he is. Unfortunately, after the performance a girl in the row behind us, stood on an unfinished ice cream pot, sending ice cream splodges over my mum and I! After a calming count to ten, which lasted to twenty-eight, I soon saw the funny side and we even reworded some of the songs to suit our dairy tragedy.
Finally on Saturday before coming home we went to Plymouth's big museum, and had a good look around the exhibits before starting our long car journey home.
A few extra points to make, first of all I have finally found my cup of tea! Surprise, surprise, it's Earl Grey, as if my parents needed another reason to tease me for being posh, but it was the nicest I've tried so far. And secondly: Applaud yourselves, youths of Swindon, for you are not as stupid as youths of Plymouth. There are probably lovely Plymouth teens too, but I saw none of them, from snapping off plastic leaflet holders, to terrorising tourists, to drag racing, and tombstoning (yes that sport where you dive off a high rock into shallower coastal waters, and then appear on the news either paralysed or dead from hitting a rock under the surface), Plymouth's teens were ghastly.
Tired from all the reading? Take a break.
xxxx
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