A FRENCH LETTER!

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Dear Madam Armentieres,

Just a quick note regarding the bijou gite of yours my wife and I rented last week. I recall that you did ask for feedback on the booking form. Well here it is!

To say the place was on the small side is to exaggerate. If the truth be told a thong stretched to tearing point would offer more floor space. I mean there’s bijou and fucking bijou in my book.

Upon entry I thought it rather advantageous the neither my wife nor I carry excess weight as the front door was only two foot wide. Certainly I was glad we did not invite my old mum to accompany us on this short break. The poor woman – a big lady – would have had to have nourishment passed out to her and sleep upon the patio (such as it was).

Still at least I did not have to worry about my vertigo condition as I climbed the ‘stair’ to bed – a bonus all things considered.  Furthermore I would pass comment on the Lilliputian sized shower. For the record it was fortuitous we had packed the KY Jelly for I had to smother the wife all over with it and utilise the handy spatula from the kitchen area in order that she could squeeze in and thus take her ablutions – and by God was she chucking up a bit by then.  It did not go unnoticed that what constituted the towel rail was in point of fact a drawing pin, lightly pressed into damp sodden plasterboard and no match for a bath towel I can tell you.

Also it was rather handy the wife brought with her just the one pair for the ‘rib’ of drawers would never have held a brace and still shut.  In the kitchen cupboard I did at least manage to find room for my tin of baked beans.

Oh yes, the fridge – almost forgot the fridge.  I arrived with a sizable carton of beers to chill in the fridge as we both favour an evening tipple when holidaying. Now warm lager is an undesirable beverage in my book and the fact that we were only able to chill just the two 250ml bottles at a time certainly reduced our alcohol intake considerably. At a pinch it might just have held a third bottle but there was always the butter to consider. As to milk for our morning coffee let’s just say we took it as rancid as the mini heat wave could make it.

My heart had sunk when I spotted the ‘bottled’ water only sign above the washing up bowl. I only had water in a flask – damn nuisance that was.

On the plus side the attractive framed postcard of the local village did fill the wall of the living area quite nicely and the TV was so tiny that it certainly did not offend the eye. As luck had it the binoculars we brought with us served me well when it came to watching the FA Cup Final thereon. I really don’t know what I would have done without them with me being an Arsenal fan and all that.

As to that local – nearby the brochure said – village we did take a look around as suggested. After something of a route march we eventually found ourselves in Centre Ville and putting it frankly I’ve seen more life in a tramps vest – not even a bar at which we could quench our respective raging thirsts after our two hour hike.

The brace of horses in the field adjoining the gite’s garden were a joy to behold yet having met with the owner of the equine’s after a couple of days into our time there I now know that when a Frenchman utters the words, “I could eat a horse” he actually means it for the very next day they were gone confirming that the two gun shots I heard in the night were what I thought they were.

Regardless, we did somehow manage to enjoy ourselves – no thanks to your pokey fucking gite – and your recycling bin facilities at the end of the short (very) drive were to die for, that is if one could still give a toss about the planet after a week’s stay!

Yours sincerely,

Lester Marbles

Hastings

 


17 thoughts on “A FRENCH LETTER!

  1. Absolute classic of its kind! I laughed so much I nearly cried – and am still chuckling as I pen this! That’s telling the buggers, as you might say.

  2. Brilliant letter, Mike! Though I missed you while you were gone, this made it worth the wait! I’m glad your real holiday was not like poor Lester’s here. I think Tom and Jerry had more luxurious living conditions (and if you don’t know it, Tom and Jerry are cartoon mice!). Welcome home! 😀

    1. Cracked it Rachel – the laptop just allowed me to catch up with your recent posts. Ghosts & Road Trips! You’ll be selling the rights to these to Hollywood next I do believe. With your luck I can tell you now never, never ever waste your money on a lottery ticket for there is no point!

      1. LOL! Now you see, I’m NOT the kind of person that never wins. No, I’d actually purchase the winning lottery ticket… But then on my way to redeem it, I’d be involved in a car accident, the car would be totaled, the insurance would have expired the day before, and the ticket would have been damaged and deemed not valid. 🙂

  3. Absolutely one of the funniest things I read this year (I feel this compliment has more value in May than in January, when I believe I made a similar comment;))…I do hope for your sake your holiday accommodation wasn’t as bad as that of Lester Marbles, who’s also a fan of Arsenal…so I can only guess which part is fiction and which is fact:S

    1. Cheers – we had a great time apart from the girl looking after the place forgetting to turn the hot water on. That sparked the idea for this fiction.

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