The Stubbornness Of Men

A few weeks ago my other half and I went on a mini break. Let me point out, I have two teenage daughters, so this was a major event for us.

It was the result of a complaint we made last year, about our holiday. Unlike many we stay in England for our holidays. My other half for some reason has an obsession with caravans. He also has an obsession with camping, but I’m of the opinion that if you don’t have plug sockets and a private bathroom, it’s not a holiday. So we got a caravan in sunny Skegness.


Anyway, last years holiday was, to put it plainly, a holiday from hell. With stairs disconnecting from the caravan, a hole in the sofa, and a bathroom door that didn’t shut (among other things).We felt we were within our rights to complain.

The result was a long weekend, friday to monday, for FREE. Unfortunately we weren’t allowed to take this weekend during school holidays, but we couldn’t let it go to waste. So despite being obviously upset about it, (crosses fingers behind her back). We decided we had no choice but to take the long weekend on our own.

Admittedly it wasn’t the best time of year to go, but as we both work in retail it can be hard to get time off together. So leaving the house and pets in the semi-capable hands of my children, we packed up the car and headed to the sea-side.

The journey there was rather uneventful, with the exception that the horrible woman who resides inside the sat-nav took away my stop for a bathroom break(I’m sure she doesn’t like me.) The other half thinks this is hysterical, I think its evil. As a woman who has gone through child birth, and had numerous operations in that department, removal of the bathroom pit stop is a major issue. However, luckily I was able to cross my legs and last out the journey, the real fun occurred when we arrived at the caravan park.

The previous few days had seen nothing but rain, which had caused the site to become waterlogged. unfortunately we didn’t discover this until we were making our way to the caravan. As we sat in the car, tires spinning, digging our selves deeper and deeper into the ground. It became obvious to me that we were in trouble. My back started to ache as I awaited the words, that I knew were coming… Your going to have to push. (Damn, knew I should have learnt to drive).

After half an hour of pushing and pulling, myself, him and both of us, we have moved the car an entire inch… deeper into the ground. It was then that a maintenance man for the caravan park finally came across us.

“You should move that car, before you get stuck,” he said.

I looked down at the car, now in ditches of mud, my other half, stood on one side pushing, me on the other, both of us ankle-deep in sludge… I was starting to see why the first caravan was in such a bad state of repair.

“We’re already stuck.” I say, stating what should have been obvious.

The man looked at the car, as if only just noticing the mess around it, “£50 charge, to move it. Cant do it till’ tomorrow though, maintainance finish at half past four.”

I looked at my other half and could see the shock on his face, he quickly shook his head, indicating that wasn’t going to happen. I glanced at my watch to see it was exactly four thirty, wasn’t it just so unlucky that no one came across us until now?

After watching us struggle for a few more minutes, the helpful maintenance man, wandered off to god knows where, (He probably remembered a window he hadn’t licked yet) and my other half carried on attempting to move the car. I could already see the £50 leaving our bank account, but he was adamant, he wasn’t paying it, he tried everything he could think of to move that thing, but nothing worked.

After about another hour, he left me sat in the car, while he went for a walk, I had no idea where he was going, I was too busy debating how long it would take to carry our cases to our destination. He returned with one of the biggest slabs I’ve ever seen. Struggling to the car with it, he placed it under one of the front tires. It took a few attempts and a bit of pushing on my part but fifteen minutes later we were free and back on concrete. He then returned the slab to wherever he got it, it was now covered in mud and I only hope the rain cleaned it before anyone noticed.

As we unloaded the car, and carried our cases to the caravan, both taking great care not to look in the direction of the one that now had a river of mud in front of it. I had to admire the man I’m with, whether we call it stubbornness, tight-fisted, or just plain determined, he was adamant we were getting that car out, and we did. We even did it without the help of the maintenance men, who were still walking around at six o’clock (they probably couldn’t tell the time.)




2 thoughts on “The Stubbornness Of Men

  1. Pingback: Costa Del Skeg
  2. Pingback: New Destinations

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