We take it in turns to organise weekends away. One of us decides where we’re going, and the other one isn’t allowed to quibble at all. Not that I would have quibbled, of course, because look where we went:
This is the Grand Hotel in Scarborough. It was built in 1863, and sits high on the Scarborough cliffs overlooking the beach. These days it caters mostly for coach trips and has a rather faded feel to it, but it’s still grander than anywhere we’ve ever stayed.
I could have sat in the breakfast room all morning (and would have done if the tea hadn’t been so vile – I don’t mind budget food, but need proper tea!) The sun was rising over the harbour and the sea glistened.
I love a slightly tired seaside town. I love bucket-and-spade shops, cheap cafes and amusement arcades. I love giant fibreglass ice creams and ancient window displays, saucy postcards and doughnut machines.
I’m sometimes tempted not to bother going away for just one night. All that fuss and driving, and you’re home again in 24 hours! But actually, whenever I do it I feel like I’ve been away for a week, and the memory of a cheery trip keeps me going for a long time.
Definitely more nights away in 2014 I think…