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February 13, 2005

Where holidays go to die.

The dreamytime caravan park, Grimly-determined-next-the-sea, yesterday. There are rusty swings, dogturd-encrusted roundabouts encased in kneescraping concrete and the promenade smells of desperation rather than the sea. Cod and chips pie and chips sausage and chips beefburger and chips fishfingers and chips salmonella chicken detritus and chips tip top vimto tizer or panda cola.

Posted by Hirez at February 13, 2005 11:53 PM

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