Once the decision had been made, we headed off to the charming little fishing port of Mousehole.
As we passed several direction signs, and our SatNav kept referring to (although mispronouncing) our destination, Wilson eventually conceded that perhaps it WAS a real place after all.
We parked on the outskirts of the village and walked in along a coastal path, pausing for W to admire the view. And the Atlantic Rollers.
'I can't wait to catch some Tubes, New Dad!' he remarked. 'Just look at those choka barrels — Bitchin!'
As we strolled on down to the beach, he confidently explained to me the meaning of Carpet Diem, which he has been shouting a lot lately. It is apparently a Latin or Greek saying which roughly translates as: Let's see what we find on the carpet today!
Having retired to a nearby café for some 'grindage' (I have no idea what that even means) Wilson ordered a burrito but settled for a vegetarian Cornish Pasty, which he declared to be 'Primo!'
Over coffee we discussed where to go next, and W said he'd really like to visit Mousehole.
I think this is because
(a) he doesn't believe there's really a town called Mousehole, and
(b) if there is, he thinks it will be populated by giant mice.
I'm pretty sure he'll be disappointed on both counts, but it is a really lovely little village, so I'm certain he'll enjoy his visit.
Given Wilson's legendary dislike of water, I was most surprised when he handed me his bucket and spade, shrimping net etc to hold while he disappeared with Antony into a surfing supplies shop.
About half an hour later he emerged carrying an enormous surfboard, calling to me, 'Check out my primo Stick, Dude!'
Leaning this against the shop window he ducked back inside, reappearing after a few moments with a stack of Surfaris and Jan & Dean CDs.
Passing the CDs to me he tucked the surfboard under his arm, remarking loudly, 'Man, I'm Totes Noodled! Let's jet to the food hut and grab a burrito and some sweet nectar. Latronic, dude — Cowabunga!'
Next it was time to choose and buy what Wilson calls his 'holiday essentials' — bucket and spade, bats and balls, shrimping nets and several gaudily-coloured plastic items whose purpose I could not even begin guess at.
When he emerged from the shop, he hailed me, 'Hey Dude! Look at my Primo Stuff! Now let's Safari!'
As we set off, he remarked, 'Man, is this totally tubular, or what?! Carpet Diem!'
I'll tell you what was 'tubular' — if tubular means wholly and utterly unexpected: the next shop Wilson went into...
Looking down from the promenade, we could see a lot of little black things that look a bit like seals, but are too distant to really make out.
Within seconds I have parted with a coin and Wilson is checking these creatures out through a telescope. A moment later, he declares that they're either humanoid aliens, or people wearing shiny black suits — and they're balancing on tiny boats!
Taking a look through the telescope myself I determined, unsurprisingly, that rather than aliens the figures were in fact Surfers.
I explained to W what Surfing is and mention that Newquay is a major centre of Surfing and Surf Culture, due to it's fine and reliable... well, surf.
To my surprise, Wilson raised one arm and shouted, 'Carpet Diem!' before grabbing his sun hat and Antony, and we all headed off into Newquay town centre.
