At the Holiday Resort

‘For all intents and purposes,’ she said. Which, do to the howling gale at the time I didn’t quite catch, so I had to wonder why anyone would wish to keep a porpoise under canvas – apart from the obvious – of course, but then I find people from that part of the world are rather a funny lot. She was typical of them, I suppose, although she a greater interest in some of the more esoteric sexual practices than most of the women I’d met from the region Most of whom tended to regard anything that involved the removal of their cardigans, before they had filled up on at least twelve rum and blackcurrants, as a bit beyond the pale, especially if you neglected to offer to buy them the obligatory bag of chips afterwards.

Still, as to keeping the porpoises in their tents – to be honest I wouldn’t put it past them. I had seen one of them doing something rather unmentionable with a dolphin one morning, and it was wise not to ask the local fisherman why the catch of the day often seemed to have rather a haunted expression on their faces when set out on the stalls later that morning.

Still, as British seaside holidays go, despite the howling gales and torrential rain of a traditional British summer, it was rather a pleasant few days, provided – of course – you didn’t enquire too deeply into what they’d been doing with the sticks of rock in the beach-front gift shop.