My Love Affair with Newquay and The Island

For a lot of people my age, their childhood holidays weren't spent in Spain they were spent on the coast of the UK, whether their parents' preference was Barmouth, Swanage or Skegness. My parents' loved Newquay.

As I was an only child until I was 10, and a very demanding and stroppy child at that, my very patient cousin Zandra was like a sister to me and would come on every single holiday. Whilst she was a tomboy, I was a girly girl. When at home she would climb in trees and I would sit inside and colour but when on holiday this all changed. Holidays were spent paddling in the sea today in our vests and shorts (the concept of swimwear abandoned in haste) and posing on the rocks for pictures pretending to be the Ariel from the Little Mermaid. (Well I did that, Zandra just grinned with a spade in her hand whilst building sandcastles.) The most memorable moments include Zandra reminding us to be careful when in the sea... "Don't go too far out the cherries will get you!" Currents Zandra, currents.

My mom and I paddling in the sea at Newquay

The End of Summer

I think it's fair to say that summer is officially on the way out, which is a shame as it always seems to be when I'm happiest and I feel like I've spent most of it doing work for my MA.  However, I have also done other things...I've been to Portugal, I've been to Wales where the boy tour me on a tour of many many castles (my favourite was Pehrhyn), I've baked A LOT, drank copious amounts of red wine, I've done some writing for Fused, prepared their AW Fashion Guide, wrote a short story for Cellardoor's wonderful End of Summer Issue (p84), got my little sister prepared for high school and waved the boy off to live bloody miles away.  Oh and I've more or less finished my MA.  It's been a busy one.

Barmouth Beach

View from the Caravan

We may complain about British summers but even when it's pouring it down a 99 from the ice-cream man and chips on the beach front make me reminiscent of summers when I was younger.  As a young girl I spent many summers in a caravan/apartment/posh hotel depending on our finances at the time but to me it didn't matter where we were.  I once adopted a seagull who I called Sammy, I fed him every day whilst we were away with my aunties and cousins and every one.  I only realised this year whilst telling the boy that story that Sammy was probably multiple seagulls.  Naive I know, but it shows how much I believed in the magic of summer - as a tiny girl I had a pet seagull.  So don't give up on British summers - they may be shorter, come at strange times of the year and be largely interspersed by rain but they're our summers.  Make sure you make the most of them.

My mother and I, Newquay, aged 2. 

Graduation Cake and a Trip to Portugal

Finally the boy has graduated.  I am very proud.  He is almost a fully fledged dentist, soon to be earning a lot of money whilst I plod on with finishing my MA and hope to God that I can get a job this autumn.  Cross your fingers for me.

This comes after a wonderful holiday in the Algarve where we did absolutely nothing but lounge by the pool, hide from the sun so I wouldn't burn, get covered by sand on the beach (and break my sisters Kindle there too as I dropped it on a rock - eek!) plus eat a lot.  Eating become the main activity...we would discuss where we would go all day and then savour three courses with a bottle of wine/sangria and topped off with some deadly cocktails.

We walked for miles on the one cloudy day we had, following a map that was not to scale.  At all.  Tourist maps, you would think, show key things that you should see so we trekked to see a statue.  The following is the statue in question...not really a statue more an island with religious connotations.

Our first holiday and our first graduation (we weren't speaking when it was mine) so to celebrate I baked cake, various cupcakes in fact: vanilla with raspberries and chocolate fudge.  Thankfully the deserts in Portugal weren't that great so my cake didn't have much to live up to.  If I'd been cooking ribs/steak/any kind of fresh fish it would have been a different matter, they were amazing in Portugal.  The old faithful Cupcakes and Muffins book came out, as did my mothers wonderful silicon cupcake cases.  They went down an absolute treat, which I'm glad of because I was too poor to buy anything better.  The raspberry is particularly amazing so I'll make sure to put the recipes up for you to try another time.

I need to go somewhere...

I have been sat working away on my MA work for about 12 years now. At least it feels that way, it has completely taken over my life. Oh and I have no money, nothing, nada, ziltch. So I am leaving the North and moving home to the Midlands as I have no more excuses. I have no lectures, it's just time to get on with it.

As well as moving home, which will be a trial I'm sure, I have also had to give up many fun things such as drinking copious amounts of alcohol (I have no money and also no time to waste on hangovers as I am now an extremely professional person), eating three decent meals a day and also holidays. This last one is what gets to me most. I am happy to drink water and eat pasta. I am not happy to be stuck in my little bubble, I want to see the world!

What is making this worse is The Cool Hunter's Facebook page, which keeps tormenting me with pictures of places I want to go. They call their albums things like "Private Pools", "Treescape" and "Amazing Places to Visit Around the World" that are filled with pictures that are supposed to inspire but what they actually do is cause jealousy. They may as well be called "Haha Laura can't go here! :p" (Please note that :p has actually raspberry blowing side effects in my head and is shortly followed by an evil laugh.)

Anyway, because I'm incredibly cruel and I'm sure you're all sat at a desk/on a couch/somewhere equally uninspiring I have picked my favourites from the Amazing Places to Experience Around the Globe album. There are a lot! And a lot more that are on the 'go to' list. I hope to fill you with the joy of knowing you'll possibly never visit some of these. Unless you're Richard Branson. In which case: Hello Richard. What a lovely tie you're wearing. I am a big fan of your aeroplanes and I've heard your private island is lovely. Care to go out for dinner?

 Marble Caves, Chile Chico, Chile

 Gruta do Lago Azul(Blue Lake Cave), Bonito, Brazil.

 Berry Head, Avalon Peninsula, Newfoundland, Canada

 Moraine Lake, Alberta, Canada

 The Wave, Arizona

 Hang En Cave, Vietnam

Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming

Family: who'd 'av 'em?

I love my family.  Very much.  I just thought I'd clarify that before telling you that right now I want to kill them.  I don't know whether it's my fault really.  I'm 22, I like my own space, I've moved home after three years of living with friends 90 miles away and my tolerance is low when it comes to annoyance.

After spending a spectaular long weekend in Barmouth, Wales, I returned today literally five minutes before my dad and sister walked in the door.  My sister, who at 11 has turned into a character from Kevin and Perry Go Large (a film she doesn't even know exists because it was before her time) stropped in without a smile, without asking about my weekend, and then proceeded to be everywhere I wanted to be.  My father proceeded to tell me what a crap day he had in no certain terms willing me to ask why it was this way.  I didn't.

Retiring to my room I tried to pretend they weren't there.  They were ruining my post-holiday buzz.  I was followed...my dad in a strop because now the boy is back he won't have a babysitter.  (The boy is back literally just for four nights and then he's off to Europe for a month before returning to Leeds...I mean Christ, cut me some slack.)  Then he shouts at me because I don't want to know what's been happening in my very short absense and strops out telling me to ring my aunty.

I swear, I live with mental people.  This or I'm mental.  According to my doctor I'm too stressed and need to reduce the stress, "is that possible?"  My response: "I live with my dad, what do you think?"...turns out she'd seen my dad just that morning so no wonder she kept her mouth shut and just gave me a knowing look.  According to my cheerful father depression has some genetic elements and so in 20 years I'll be rather like he is now.  Lord help me.  One thing's for sure...I've came back to reality with a right bump when I walked through that door.