Center Parcs, Places to write

Center Parcs Days 2 and 3

Having promised hubby we would have a day at the main lake while he fished, here we are, two portable but comfy chairs, his fishing gear, can’t tell you what it is or what each bit does – I know what the rod is – because I wasn’t really paying attention during that lesson. We won’t be needing the sun cream which we optimistically packed as it is overcast and quite chilly, although maybe when then day reaches a sociable hour it might warm up a little.

Sitting here, by the lake, has given me the chance to write, albeit with a pen and paper rather than anything electronic – I am accident prone and wasn’t about to tempt fate so close to the water’s edge. If you are reading this on my blog it has been carefully edited and typed up at a later date. I have written my blog post, sorted out some acrostic poems which I promised for a dinner party at the weekend and started to write an erotic story for my next coursework assignment.

Boredom crept in so I have just returned from a lovely long walk on the pretext of needing the toilet and lovingly bringing my fisherman a coffee from Starbucks in the village square. Several leg stretching wanders later, saw me return with sandwiches, crisps, soft drinks, chocolate and tales of my viewing of various outdoor activities ranging from the brave to the downright heart stopping – and I was the firmly grounded one.

Fisherman husband was a happy bunny, having caught over thirty roach and silverback fish (I saw many of these catches – almost ended up face-slapped by one when he wrestled it from the grasp of a very cunning baby Grebe who spent his day watching hubby’s rods very closely!) On one occasion, I returned from a walkabout to find hubby grinning widely, happily showing me a photo of the 3lb Bream he had landed while chatting to a fellow fisherman.

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Five hours and more later, we deposited the fishing gear back at the apartment, the smelly net being left on the balcony to dry out , we showered and headed back to the village centre for a game of badminton. We purchased our court midway through a session so we ‘lucky’ enough to have a session and a half, over an hour, of sweaty rallies. I cannot explain enough just how much my husband giggles – I don’t mean laughs, I genuinely do mean giggles like a girl, while we are playing badminton. He giggles at good shots, he giggles at missed shots and generally becomes a bit strange. But there is never a dull moment. I have discovered that if you mention enough times how lovely the day has been (while hubby has been wallowing in fisherman’s heaven) and you tire him out immediately afterwards, he will take you to a Steak Night hosted by Café Rouge where you can both relax and enjoy food, copious amounts if you opt for dessert – I felt it would be rude not to partake so ordered a huge Eton Mess Sundae (his dessert, while richer was much smaller so I was good enough to share a little…) Having notched up over 22,000 steps on my Fitbit – that’s a lot of lakeside avoidance I can tell you – I felt I deserved it.

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I have not devoted a whole blog page to day three of our break as we had a luxuriously non-strenuous day of doing not much at all.  Our plan had been to go to our usual dance class in Thetford which is only ten minutes from Center Parcs, and hubby would go to a local pub to watch the England vs Croatia semi final match as I was due to demo and had to be there. However, plans changed when we discovered that the class had been cancelled because of the football – a kick in the teeth for non football fans but sensible decision due to lower expected numbers on the night. Instead we quite literally lounged around the Sports Café, secretly securing a good spot for the game along with numerous others of the same idea. The vibe was a good one and we enjoyed coffees, alcohol, snacks and laughter all day, until the moment that Croatia scored their second, and ultimately, winning goal. Even then it was with a pride over how well England have fought for this placing, that we left the centre in good spirits, albeit a little disappointed.

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