I give you...
Pontins, Camber Sands. A veritable oasis of sand. And shite.

Before you, dear reader, clap your hands to your mouth in horror, raise a cynical eyebrow and think "Well, what did you expect?" I would like to elaborate.

I never went to a holiday camp on holiday as a child. We went to Jersey and roamed around the zoo and stuff. So Butlins and Haven remained an unknown entity to me. I was an innocent.

A while ago I became slightly obsessed with exercise. I spent between 8 - 12 hours a week at the gym, mainly doing classes, and I met some strange and interesting people. I had a willing accomplice, a good friend of mine was eager to drop some weight, so she joined me in my obsession. It wasn’t long before I found a whole sub-culture. Did you know that you can go on weekends just packed with exercise? I didn’t, but once I knew I was intrigued. The warning words “Pontins”, “Camber Sands”, “£80 p/p for 2 nights” escaped my poor endorphin soaked brain. All I read was “4 exercise classes every hour”, “Hey Mickey! Dance class - Dance like a cheerleader!” and “ Step - Level 3”. I was agog. I signed us up.

I drove to Camber Sands. It was lovely - pretty little houses lined the country roads. Pubs welcomed us in with blackboards promising Sunday roasts. My boot groaned with the bags of supplies (my friend had brought), and our cases full of workout gear and deodorant.

We arrived. All I can remember of the reception area was an enormous pink cement octopus. We were given a map and sent on our way.

I want to tell you that the place resembled a concentration camp, but I’m trying to avoid clichés and so will restrain myself. It made the Hi-de-Hi set look modernistic and avant garde. It was horrible. I looked at my friend, jaw agape. She smiled and said “It’s quite nice, eh?” It was at that point I knew our friendship lived on borrowed time.

Our apartment smelt bad. It smelt like a whore’s tampon, wrapped in hair which had been burnt on a barbeque. (I apologise for this mental image) The perfume I spritzed about made it worse, so we kept the door open. In March. On the South coast. The mad winds blew, but the smell remained. The sofa resembled something which a poor old man may have died in while watching Family Fortunes. He may have shit himself - that’s how it smelled anyway. Like dead man’s shit. The bathroom would have made a maggot retch. It was bad.

The food my mate had brought consisted of bread, cheese, butter, pasta and alcohol. Not a great combo for a “Fitness weekend”. Her explanation? “Carb Loading”. I got drunk. We went out to an exercise class - I, rather predictably, hurt myself. That night I struggled to release her from a huge rugby player who appeared to be discovering what she’d had for tea by tongue. I dragged her home and fell into a miserable stupor. Until our neighbours decided to inform the entire block that her boyfriend was a “Naughty Boy - you like to fuck me in the arse don’t you?” and “Harder, Harder, Oohhhh” until 5 in the morning.

The second day consisted of me gamely limping through classes, and when we arrived back at the “apartment” it was a relief. Until the electricity blew out. I walked a half mile to the octopus reception. It was empty and desolate. Like me. I walked the half mile back to the security office and reported the problem. 2 Hours later, I answered the door, blue of lip and hard of heart. “Silly girls!” the caretaker laughed, “You can’t have the shower on and the oven at the same time”. Oh silly me.

When we finally left I felt joy. Until I felt itching. Terrible terrible itching, followed by strange red lines running up my arms. I went to the Dr. and discovered I’d caught scabies.

Length? 2 nights. The scars may haunt me for ever.
( my_cat_has_no_shoes meh meh meh MEH MEH, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 21:15, 4 replies)

Pontins
We went to Pontins at Camber Sands.

We had slugs in the cooker, on the floor and in the kitchen.
( diffy maybs, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 21:46, closed)

Winces!
I've had scabies and it's not pleasant. This was before the modern creams available now.

Whore's tampon - *giggle*
( girlinthehole, Tue 22 Jan 2008, 8:59, closed)

Me too...
I've experienced Pontins at Camber Sands. The food was shit, I got attacked by the biggest seagulls you've ever seen and there was a skinhead gang beating people up on the last night I was there.

I also remember the giant octopus. The reception desk is made up into a pirate ship too.


On the plus side, I got stoned and went to the arcade, where I won a cuddly bear, so every cloud and all that.
(FerretTrout be illin', Tue 22 Jan 2008, 10:00, closed)

whores tampon?
have a click
( zulu eh?, Tue 22 Jan 2008, 11:37, closed)