Untitled, By Unknown

11: Frustrating Relaxation

Writing time: 12th- 14th November 2016

'Summer, every single moment is worth its weight in gold. Summer, it's like the world's best story and it's waiting to be told. It's ice cream cones and cherry soda dripping down your chin. It's summer, man, where do we begin?'- Summer (Where Do We Begin), Phineas and Ferb the Movie: Across the 2nd Dimension, 2011. I make the claim there will never be a better animated show than this. Well, maybe Rick and Morty. But that's the only contender.

Holiday time. At the resort of Centerparcs (yes, to me that's the greatest destination). In writing-related news, Chapters 1-10 now have nearly 15,000 words- oh, the almost perfection. Over a quarter way to novel length so far, which I am very proud of. Problem is I'm running out of shit that's happened; I've only been able to plan out another two chapters so far. There may be the odd flashback chapter, which shall be nonetheless entertaining- I hope. Anyway, holiday time. You know where.

This was a family habit, starting long ago when I was young and my family was intact. Then after the divorce, it stopped, but fortunately resumed years later, starting with trips alongside the family of a friend (and the friend), and then dropping them in favour of the step-family. This would be the 8th or 9th trip in total- but that didn't reduce the anticipation.
Sunday. One of the three cousins who would be joining us came around for the night- took pressure off his parents, but as my grandparents were also staying to look after the animals, I was forced onto an airbed in the living room. Surprisingly comfortable, if a little inconvenient. Still, the best part was receiving a photo that Tuesday of my grandad attempting to deflate said airbed by lying on it. Clearly the best technique.
Monday. We awoke. We got ready, with a surprisingly small amount of fuss. And we left. The journey took about an hour and a half, so to anybody trying to locate me: find the locations of all of the Centerparcs resorts in the U.K. (I think there's four of them). Plot them on a map. Get a compass and draw a circle around each, assuming we travelled at an average speed of 60 mph. That would be about a ninety mile radius on all sides. Well, at least you've narrowed it down.
Arrival. Check-in. Parking. We stepped out of the car, into a brave new (slightly damp) world. It's always that first moment of realisation that you're there, and it's actually happening. That first point of perfection. Which would last about five minutes before my cousin decided to check his phone. Upon doing so, he realised how many Pokéstops there were. Dozens, apparently. At this point, I showed a mild interest. Good for him. By evening, I wished he'd never opened the app.
Immediately, we headed to the centre of the resort, and my cousin and I unceremoniously dashed for the pool after being permission. Now this was why we came here (well, one reason. I presume the adults take other factors into account, like cost. But this was my personal favourite). We got changed, and entered the paradise of the water- wading past the boring part of the actual pool. We had a destination in mind: the rapids, a circle of raging water which resulted in chaotic collisions with the many others also flinging themselves into the current. Prepare for buoyancy and bruising.
We chucked ourselves into the current, and were gently sucked into its grasp. Slow, but wait. Here come the jets. Three, two, o- bang. I miscounted. Instantly we were propelled around the circuit, attempting to dodge the other thirty swimmers- mostly successfully. The rush of the water, the frantic swerving- oh, the entertainment.
But wait. There's more. The slide. The slide being various halves of plastic tubes cobbled together in an in-orderly fashion to create an outside route of insanity, tossing the occupants back and forth and down and up and almost over the side resulting in even more injuries by the time the week was up. If this place charged for its healthcare, it'd double its profits. I swear I've still got the odd cut from scraping my arm along the wall, and it's been nearly three months since I was there.
Up the stairs. The queue faded. The red light flashed. One. Two. Three. Four. Five- green! We leapt forward. Down a short ramp. A flat section where speed was gained. Then a rather larger ramp compared to the previous, sending us down through a curtain of water and to the great outdoors.
Left. Straight. Right. Erm... up? Backwards? Where am I- ok, down, and down again- ow. Ow, ow, ow, take a breath- ow. Forgot about that wall. It's been a while. Then down the final ramp to be dragged under the surface of the water- and hopefully not collide with any other participants. Oh, the screams of ecstasy. The joy. The sense of freedom. Now this was a holiday. No exes, no insults, no romance- just pain. But, you know, good pain.
This cycle of masochism continued for a couple of hours. Then he got hungry. So, to my great discontent, we left. Got dressed, grabbed food. We'd made plans with the various parents to meet at the lodge at around three, but we headed to the address early just to locate it. For once, we had two floors. Luxury- though this was just because we had a eleven-month old to deal with (my cousin's sister- so also my cousin). It had been decided that keeping her upstairs might help the rest of us sleep. Which, incidentally, worked.
We still had a couple of hours to kill, and we couldn't get bikes yet. So, we walked around. Headed to the sports centre. Headed back. Looked in the shops- I spotted a particularly enticing Lego Millennium Falcon for only £136 (which cost about £95 literally anywhere else). Probably out of my price range. I planned to wait until after the exam results, see if I got any reward money.
Oh yeah. Exam results. Thursday. In three days, less than 72 hours. Shit. Well, let's not think about that.
Eventually running out of ways to kill time, we headed back to the lodge. Soon after, the family arrived, and we could go in. Stuff was collected and unpacked, and we lay down on our beds relaxing.
Just so you know, I never sent that message to my ex. Decided against it in the end. Which was a smart idea in hindsight, as for once the lodge had Wi-Fi. That I did not foresee. If I had done it, I would have found out the results in a matter of hours. Awkward. But the feelings had faded. I was over him.
Then, we got the chance to get the thing I'd been waiting for all day... bikes. This was subsequently followed by us riding our bikes, weirdly enough. We didn't have a route; instead my cousin dictated which way to cycle using navigation points of the nearest Pokémon. This began very well with a massive downhill section, us speeding down the steep hill and feeling the wind rush past. Now, I know I said I hated sport, but this was an exception. No other sport compares to this feeling of exhilaration and the mad rush of adrenalin. Then, the uphill section. This required some pushing. It was about here that the journey started to get annoying.
See, as I said, the route was based on my cousin's whims and nearest Charmander. Which was fine, but for some reason he wanted to catch said creatures. Which meant him stopping. Which meant a loss of speed as I also stopped and waited for him to say which way to go next. This was especially irritating on very large hills. You cannot slow down on those things, otherwise you're walking the rest of the incline. But if you've got someone behind you shouting 'wait, there's a Klefki!' (and I don't care if that's one's not in the app as I have been so reliably informed) then there's little else you can do. It was a great ride. It just took twice as long as expected- and not because we did it twice. He was so focused on his catching, he almost hit a van. Luckily, this being Centerparcs, it was only going about two miles an hour, so even if they had collided he would have been fine. From then on, I tried to play the 'responsible cousin' role and keep him off his phone. I failed.
Tuesday. The same kind of stuff. More crazy and slow bike rides, more various wounds from the pool. The evening consisted of tea out with my parents, beginning with a starter of garlic bread. I immediately sent a picture of this to the emo. Let me explain.
At the beginning of the holidays (the day of the referendum, I believe) the emo and the short one came over to my house for the afternoon. As the latter had never visited me before, he took delight in exploring, finding sophisticated things like books and nice furniture, using this evidence to call me incredibly posh. While snooping around my kitchen drawers (which sounds like a bit of a euphemism, but really isn't), he found a garlic press. I didn't even know we owned one, but apparently this isn't an average item to possess, leading to occasional ridicule for the next two months. So, when faced with garlic, the joke to send was clear.
Wednesday. Crazy golf with the rest of the family (which consisted of parents, the older male cousin, the younger female cousin, the baby cousin, my uncle, and my soon-to-be aunt after the October wedding). My uncle, being the 'funny' sort, decided to make a joke practically every time I missed a shot- this was annoying when my total score for one hole was seven. On the second go around the course, I managed to get in a comeback. There were two routes to a certain hole: one path around the side or just straight down. On the first go, we'd all used the former and mostly failed, so I made the smarter idea of aiming towards the hole rather than using a convoluted path round it. My uncle picked up on this and attempted a witty comment, to which I responded:
"Well, I'm going this way and succeeding, while you're going that way and failing. So, maybe don't comment on me doing something different." Or something to that effect. Now, when composing and executing a successful retort, I'm sure you should feel some sort of minor pride. I'm relatively certain you shouldn't feel what I did, which was a bitter sense of victory. Wow, he really managed to get on my nerves, didn't he?
That evening, we had a small barbecue on the patio of the lodge. I was dragged into exploring the nearby forest with my younger cousin- which was bearable. All in all, a decent day and brilliant holiday so far.

What's that? Exam results? Tomorrow? Ah.