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Monday 3rd August 2020

6458/19378

Day trip to Hastings today, where no one seems to care too much about masks or Covid. But these are the guys who let the Normans in, and they were comparatively massive and easy to stop, so they’re not going to be much good up against a virus.
We went round the aquarium and then ate fish and chips near the sea front as aggressive and fearless seagulls waited for our scraps. In the end I accidentally dropped my daughter’s leftovers on the way to the bin and the ex-dinosaurs hoovered them up in seconds.
We then went to a cramped little funfair where nearly all the rides had no cleaning in between turns and where people jostled along the narrow paths with no distancing at all. Let’s enjoy the sun before we’re all back indoors for Lockdown 2: The Search for Curly’s Gold.
After that we decided to head to the second castle in two days and drove up the hill to where the sat nav said the castle was. After a bit of confusion about where to park, we finally got into the place with about 30 mins left til closing. It was perfect for Covid as there was no roof and hardly any walls, but enough left standing to entertain the kids. I was obsessed with castles as a kid - what’s not to like? And I still think they’re pretty cool. Ernie was still looking for the king and so when we came to a wooden door I told him that that was the toilet and the king was doing a poo and then used my renowned ventriloquism skills to pretend to be the King, apologising that I couldn’t come out, due to my pooing. Ernie seemed happy with that and told the man on the way out about the pooing king. Maybe they can make it a feature of castle. 
I can understand why I loved castles though. I think I always liked history to some extent, and was into knights and kings as much as my son seems to be, but it was as much all the secret doors and weird underground passages and winding staircases that captured my imagination. We found a door leading to a what looked like it might be a short tunnel, but it truncated quickly. And smelled of wee. Probably the famous shitting ghost of the king had been caught short in there for a number one too.
But even with the pungent odour of tourist piss it was exciting to find.
We used to stop at a castle in Ashby-de-la-Zouche on our drives from Cheddar to Middlesbrough and that had a little underground stretch of corridor which I found thrilling and scary.  But maybe I’ve imagined it. There can’t really be a real place called Ashby-de-la- Zouche. 
Yesterday a couple with kids had recognised me outside of Rye church and said hello and my in-laws had been very impressed (even though I pointed out that I’d been with them for three days by then and this was the only time this had happened). Weirdly the same family were at Hastings Castle at the same time as us. So either they are stalkers or I have paid them to follow me around so they I can impress my mother-in-law with my fame. 
It’s too much of a coincidence to be anything else.
So it’s starting to feel like a holiday, even if we are now over half way through it. Will we come home with a terrible disease from one of the maskless coughers of Hastings? Is it worth the risk to create some memories for my kids?


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