Double bed

Whenever we're on holiday together I try to get a room with twin beds, but it's not always possible.

Wilson is generally a restless sleeper — snoring, talking in his sleep, tossing and turning, rooting out the odd ant hiding in his fur — the more so after a disturbing experience like the Ghost Train. Moreover, his fur is not soft like a puppy's, more bristly like a door-mat. 

So I didn't have an excellent night's sleep, thanks for asking… but today after breakfast we're going to a museum I think W will like — and I don't think there's anything there to scare him.

Dinner is served

Once we were back at the hotel we lost no time in getting down to the dining room to order our dinner, as we were both ravenous by now!

We ate diligently and in near silence, although Wilson did mention that our waitress looked a bit troubled and perhaps she could use the services of a private investigator.

Once the meal was finished, as the waitress cleared away the dishes and presented our bill, Wilson handed her one of his Consulting Detective business cards.

Without looking at it, she slipped it into her cordless credit-card reader and frowned at the display for a moment, before returning the card to him.

'I'm sorry, sir,' she said, 'your card has been declined.'

W blushed deeply while I paid…

Our carriage awaits...

I hadn't appreciated that the slide was a 'Ride As Long As You Like' attraction — which made it good value, particularly in Wilson's case as he seemed tireless, going round and round on it for ages while I sat watching him and thinking longingly of dinner.

When he did eventually wilt and returned to me he announced that he was too tired to walk and needed me to carry him back to the car park. I was pretty worn out myself by then, so that was not about to happen. Instead, I suggested taking one of the many horse-drawn taxis.

'Oh yes — so we could!' he exclaimed delightedly, as though that hadn't been on his mind since he first saw them.

He rushed over to make friends with one of the horses, offering him a bit of candy-floss he'd found embedded in his fur in lieu of the more traditional sugar lump, and we rode back along the promenade in great style — in what I can only describe as a Fairy Princess Carriage.

W had befriended the horse, and refused point-blank to ride in one of the more masculine vehicles...

Giant slide

As anticipated, it did prove possible to make it up to Wilson for not having a donkey ride on the beach. 

I was feeling quite hungry and I wanted to return to the car so we could drive back to the Hotel for dinner — but before this could happen W spotted a Giant Slide.

I made it clear that this would definitely be the last ride of the day, handed him a few coins and watched as he ran off to the ride and climbed the massive staircase to the top. 

All the climbing will probably give him a good appetite for dinner when we do — finally — get to eat…

Something interesting on the beach

As we were strolling along the pier Wilson spotted something happening down on the beach — donkey rides! 

Some time ago I was under a lot of pressure to allow him to have a pet donkey (he finished up with Diesel, his goldfish) so they're clearly an animal he feels a great affinity for. 

Unfortunately, though, the lady in charge was collecting them together and and it looked as though the rides had ended for the day. 

W called down to her, asking whether the rides were finished and she called back, 'Yes! The donks have had enough for now, but they'll be back again tomorrow!'

I had planned to go somewhere else the following day, but I promised W he could definitely have a donkey ride next time we were at the beach.

He was disappointed, but he took it on the chin… and I expect he'll find a way for me to make it up to him!

Psychic Reading

You may remember when Wilson thought of becoming a professional Stage Psychic Medium — he bought a book on Cold Reading and learned quite a lot about the subject. He understands that Clairvoyance and so on isn't real. So I was quite surprised by his attitude when he emerged from the Fortune Teller's booth:

'She's good, New Dad!' he told me. 'I mean, she's REALLY good — she knew I'd recently had a shock, and she advised me to keep well away from Ghost Trains and other haunted attractions! And she said I'm totally not possessed, which is a relief!'

I wondered whether to point out that when he'd entered the booth he had been shaking with fear and carrying a ticket for the Ghost Train… but decided against doing so. 

He seems happier and more relaxed now, so I'll just let it lie…

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Join in the conversation over at Twitter: @WVermilingua

A scary journey...

When Wilson emerged from the Ghost Train he was visibly distressed — pale and shaking — so that he had to lean against the wall to support himself.

I ran over to take his arm and comfort him, but he stopped me, saying, 'Keep your distance, New Dad! I fear I may be possessed and I don't want to pollute you with some inimical incubus…'

'What on Earth was in there?' I asked him.

'I have no idea,' he replied. 'I had my eyes tight shut, but it was…' he shuddered, 'Horrifying! Shocking! Heinous!' 

He's always been good with words!

Hoping to distract him I asked whether he'd like a Do-Nut (which usually does the trick) but he said he needed to seek Psychic Counselling immediately, and he tottered off towards the Fortune Teller's Booth.

Ghost Train

Some of you might remember Wilson's ill-fated 'Haunted Tours of Uckfield' which had to be cancelled at the last minute due to his fear of darkness and the supernatural. Emboldened by his recent success in facing his fear of water on the Canoe Ride, he has decided to confront his other terror by riding on the Ghost Train. Alone.

He purchased his ticket and took a seat in one of the cars. 

Nothing happened for a moment — then with a spine-chilling scream the ride burst into life and Wilson, gripping the hand-rail tightly, was borne away to face his demons in the unknown interior depths… 

Wilson tests his skill

Next stop on the pier was a booth where you could win toys by throwing darts. To win a toy you needed to score over 45, which Wilson whispered to me would be 'Pathetically easy!' 

As it turned out, it wasn't pathetically easy even to strike the dart board, and after a couple of turns W declared that darts was much harder than it looked on TV, where overweight drunken men somehow contrived to make it look simpler than it actually was.

I offered to buy him one of the toys, but W said that if he couldn't win it fair and square he'd rather go without.

The stall operator offered to sell us some of the Hello Kitty toys damaged by W's darts at half price, but W remained resolute. 

Before we left, though, Wilson handed the man one of his Consulting Detective cards, telling him not to hesitate to contact him should the need arise…

Bravery causes hunger — this is a well-known fact. Apparently.

Following his extreme bravery in facing his fear of water, Wilson was keen to rush off down the pier in search of further diversion. And snacks. Apparently there's nothing like a bit of bravery to pique one's appetite for junk food.

You're never far from a snack at the seaside — the smell of hot fat and burning sugar permeates the salty air like ozone…

Before he scooted off, though, he posed for a photo:

White Water Rafting!

One of the first rides we came across on the pier was this log-canoe ride. Wilson regarded it suspiciously, walking slowly round the perimeter and asking the operator how deep the water was at its deepest point. Reassured by his answer (four inches) he announced that he might, just might be persuaded to ride one of the canoes.

While I bought him a ticket he carefully inspected all the canoes to locate the one with the driest seats — and therefore, he reasoned, the one in which he was least likely to get wet. 

He insisted that I walk beside his canoe throughout the ride, and at the first sign of his vessel sinking I was to snatch him out and dry him. 'This could be like The Titanic all over again!' he told me, nervously.

When he finally disembarked the only wet part of him was his brow — with sweat! 

You'd have thought he'd been on The Big One at Blackpool, but for W, with his fear and dislike of water, it was a real achievement. 

I bought him a big Candy Floss [Cotton Candy] to reward his bravery.

Chuckle Brothers

Once we got to the pier we paused only to stock up on essential supplies (Donuts and Waffles) before heading out over the water in search of fun and adventure.

I am already experiencing some pressure to buy tickets to see The Chuckle Brothers at the Pier Theatre — they are one of Wilson's favourites. I've told him 'We'll see' and I think he knows by now what that means, although when I handed him another Donut he said, 'To me! From you!'

I've put my foot down about Roy "Chubby" Brown — far too rude for a young anteater's ears — but I might be persuaded about ABBA, The Show...

Great Yarmouth Pier

To get the holiday off to a good start, I thought we'd go to Great Yarmouth to visit one of its two pleasure piers. 

Between the car park and the pier, Wilson stopped to make one of his traditional holiday purchases: a new bucket and spade set. I've lost count of the number of buckets and spades W must have by now — dozens, at least — but he always has to start each new holiday with a new set.

Once this was done we headed off to the Britannia Pier. Wilson was very keen to know why Great Yarmouth was so called, wondering whether there was another, Not-so-Great Yarmouth somewhere else that perhaps had not two but only half a pier. 

'That must be a hard sell for the Tourism Department,' he mused. 'Come on holiday to Not-so-Great Yarmouth! It's not Great, but it's Okay!' He giggled to himself.

I told him that the only other Yarmouth I knew of in the UK was on the Isle of Wight, and I expected that it was just lovely there but didn't like blowing its own trumpet.

Booking in

Once we'd arrived at our hotel, Wilson went ahead to book us in while I unloaded the rest of the luggage from the car.

W signed the registration documents, then handed one of his Consulting Detective business cards to the Receptionist; she read it, then handed it back. 

At this point I staggered in with the remainder of our cases; W took our key and we went up to our room to unpack.

I thought I could feel the Receptionist's eyes following us as we climbed the stairs…

Driving to Norfolk

It's been a good drive up to Norfolk, broken only by numerous 'comfort breaks' and visits to motorway service station shops and snack bars.

One of Wilson's purchases was a Magic Tree car air freshener. I hung it from the mirror, but W kept reading and re-reading the packet it came from. 

Just before we crossed the border into Norfolk, while stationary in traffic, W turned to me and asked whether I thought Anteater air-fresheners for cars would be popular.

'Well, a cute cardboard anteater hanging from the mirror would look nice!' I said. 'What would it smell of?'

'Anteaters!' he replied.

We're off!

We're all packed and ready to go; Diesel the Goldfish has been left with our next-door neighbours and the Bees, Polly- and Billi-B will be looking after everyone else.

I hope we haven't forgotten anything. I doubt Wilson has, because his suitcases are stuffed to bursting point — he must surely have packed everything he owns!

So, next stop Norfolk! 

Unless, as usual, I'm persuaded by W to stop for snacks at every motorway service station we pass…

Loading up

Wilson has loaded his suitcases into the car ready for our departure on holiday. 

Antony and Tiny Toy are at pains to make themselves obvious, so they don't get left behind. 

If by some misfortune they were to be overlooked, I do realise — no matter how far we'd travelled — Wilson would make me drive back to collect them!

He is a very responsible parent.

Holidays are coming…

Wilson was very keen to continue working on his Music To Watch Eclipses By project today. I told him that the next total eclipse wouldn't be until 2026 — and that visible only from Iceland — but he was caught up in composing the music and didn't want to break his concentration.

However, when I pointed out that now I had finished the redecoration of the hall we could go on holiday as soon as he was ready, he immediately ran off to fetch his suitcases.

Within an hour W pronounced himself 'Good to go!' and Antony and Tiny Toy stationed themselves on top of his packing to avoid any danger of being left behind.

W then walked around the house announcing, 'Wheels up in thirty!' to anyone who would listen.

I think he may be watching too much Criminal Minds… 

Music to Eclipse By

This morning I found Wilson in the kitchen humming tunelessly. 

'What's up, matey?' I asked him.

'I had a totes brill idea in the night!' he replied earnestly. 'I was thinking about the Eclipse, and I thought to myself, "What would make an eclipse even more pleasurable? And make me some money?"'

He waited for me to respond. I considered for a moment before replying, 'Clear skies?'

'My idea will make eclipses more exciting and pleasurable even if there's total cloud cover!' he said. 'I present: Music to Watch Eclipses By!'

He held up a CD for me to see. 

'This is blank Proof of Concept CD at the moment because I haven't composed the music yet. It will be quite Ambienty, and I shall play it on my spoons and kazoo — I'm just composing it now.'

'Oh!' I said, nonplussed.

'But that's not all,' he continued. He nudged Antony who held up a round chocolate biscuit with a single bite taken from it. 'There are also Eclipse Snacks!'

Letter from Home

Wilson rose late today owing to a slight (ie massive) overindulgence of chocolate yesterday left him feeling a tiny bit, as he puts it, 'Uncle Dick'. He assures me that a hearty breakfast of fried ants will be just the thing to put him back on his paws — but I shall probably steer clear of the kitchen while that's happening…

He has received a letter from his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, wishing him a Happy Easter, advising him that he has another seven half-siblings, and enquiring whether Kenneth Byron Eustace Vermilingua (W's young stepbrother who came to stay with us a while ago) could holiday with us again. 

W got on really well with little Byron, and it was lovely for him to have another anteater to do anteaterly things with, so he's going to write back and say he'd be welcome to visit during the summer holidays.

Summer holidays at the zoo are always a particularly trying time for Mrs V, due to the oppressive heat and increased visitor numbers. Mrs V. doesn't like visitors.