Shit Holidays
Camping on a dried-up river bed, we discovered when it rained during the night and half of our equipment and clothes were already most of the way to the Irish Sea why you shouldn't camp on a dried-up riverbed. Tell us about crappy holidays.
Suggested by Zuowon
( , Fri 15 Aug 2014, 10:32)
Camping on a dried-up river bed, we discovered when it rained during the night and half of our equipment and clothes were already most of the way to the Irish Sea why you shouldn't camp on a dried-up riverbed. Tell us about crappy holidays.
Suggested by Zuowon
( , Fri 15 Aug 2014, 10:32)
« Go Back
France
In general I've had pretty good holidays, but one in particular stands out.
I'd just become a stroppy teenager and my family decided we would all go to France to stay in a friend's villa in La Rochelle. This meant me and my sister squishing into the back of my Dad's brand-new Ital with my fat aunt for a long drive south in the heat.
The villa itself was quite nice but there wasn't a lot to do in the area and I considered myself too old to play on the beach. I found out that windsurfing is a lot harder than it looks, and that French girls aren't interested in spotty English teenagers. My sister smacked me on the head with a golf club and my dad refused to pay for any decent meals. Things got better when my mad, chain-smoking cousin turned up on his motorbike with his hippy girlfriend, became tense and embarassing when they shagged noisily at all times of the day (the villa had a surprising echo) then got worse when he had a huge argument with his mum (my aunt) and stormed out.
We stopped off at friends on the way home where the friend's son (a bit older than me) tried to sexually assault me before dinner. They gave us a case of wine and some bottles of home-made spirits (the friend was a pharmacist) so my mum was terrorised all the way home in case we were stopped by Customs. The car broke down about 50 miles from home. I don't think we ever left Britain on holiday after that.
( , Mon 18 Aug 2014, 9:32, 7 replies)
In general I've had pretty good holidays, but one in particular stands out.
I'd just become a stroppy teenager and my family decided we would all go to France to stay in a friend's villa in La Rochelle. This meant me and my sister squishing into the back of my Dad's brand-new Ital with my fat aunt for a long drive south in the heat.
The villa itself was quite nice but there wasn't a lot to do in the area and I considered myself too old to play on the beach. I found out that windsurfing is a lot harder than it looks, and that French girls aren't interested in spotty English teenagers. My sister smacked me on the head with a golf club and my dad refused to pay for any decent meals. Things got better when my mad, chain-smoking cousin turned up on his motorbike with his hippy girlfriend, became tense and embarassing when they shagged noisily at all times of the day (the villa had a surprising echo) then got worse when he had a huge argument with his mum (my aunt) and stormed out.
We stopped off at friends on the way home where the friend's son (a bit older than me) tried to sexually assault me before dinner. They gave us a case of wine and some bottles of home-made spirits (the friend was a pharmacist) so my mum was terrorised all the way home in case we were stopped by Customs. The car broke down about 50 miles from home. I don't think we ever left Britain on holiday after that.
( , Mon 18 Aug 2014, 9:32, 7 replies)
Are you saying you would have been ok with him sexually assaulting you AFTER dinner?
( , Mon 18 Aug 2014, 14:36, closed)
( , Mon 18 Aug 2014, 14:36, closed)
Wel exactly
He could at least have waited until after the cheese course
( , Mon 18 Aug 2014, 19:34, closed)
He could at least have waited until after the cheese course
( , Mon 18 Aug 2014, 19:34, closed)
« Go Back