«I went home, reset the alarm clock, roused the family at four, to protests and general consternation, and had everyone bundled into the car and road by five. As a result, we were in Newquay in time for breakfast and had to wait around for seven hours before the holiday park would let us have one of their wretched chalets. And the worst of it was that I'd only agreed to go there because I thought the town was called Nookie and I wanted to stock on postcards. »
Bill Bryson, Notes From a Small Island
I can perfectly imagine myself doing something like that. What about you?
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