When we arrived at the chip shop, which inevitably was closed for everything except home-delivered food, Wilson threw himself theatrically down onto the pavement and declared that he was too weak to stand.
He said that unless he had something to eat immediately – preferably chips with curry sauce, oh and a gherkin too, please, and don't forget some napkins! – I would have to carry him back to the car and drive him home.
Byron and I tried to encourage him, but in vain – even after I'd promised him pizza and chips for dinner.
Maybe our Uckfield UnHoliday has run its course and we should head back home to, well, Uckfield…
I will confess that as holidays go, it's been less successful than I had hoped.
On the plus side, though, it's been the cheapest holiday ever!
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