Butlins. In Bognor.

Been stuck with the girls for most of the last week.  In the caravan. The weather forecast said rain, rain and more shite, so started planning activities that might provide some cover as needed.  A good friend - so I'm led to believe - was staying at Butlins with her kids for the week and suggested we join her.  Only £5 each. As the week drizzled on, the inevitable seemed ever more inevitable.

I don't know why Janet puts herself through this every year.  The comedy value must have worn off by now, surely? 

Well, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity.

Some observations, made on an entirely random basis:

Incredulity

• The world has some very fine tattoo museums, perhaps one in every capital city. They're wasting their time. Bognor Butlins is where it's at.
  
• If you need two seats to take a seat at a Burger King table... you should probably be at the salad bar.
  
• The mobile phone of choice at Butlins is the iPhone 4(s).  I don't really know what anthropological value this fact has, but I fitted in fine.
• So comfortable is my good friend Janet with the Butlins way, she thinks nothing of physical confrontation with Billy Butlin Bear on the football pitch.  Disturbing.

Wisdom:

• It's not as crap as I thought it would be, even though I tried hard to think it so. Not as tatty, not as forced, not as cheap (in every sense). 
  
• Staying here will cost you twice as much as the tin says. It's like a supermarket of irresistible childhood experiences, each with a price tag. Cover your child in facepaint and fake tattoos? £7. 
• Children are a lot less judgemental than adults. They're just having fun.  Lucky them.

Epoch of belief:

You just have to go with it. 

It's not the 'working-class' thing that you hoped you could be smugly superior about. It's all quite weird, a metropolis crammed into an industrial estate. Next to the 'fake-tattoo your little darling' stall is a bar selling decent coffee, expensive cocktails, quality spirits... and it feels quite pleasant.  It could be Soho, at a stretch. Hurrah for the democratisation of the holiday experience.

The girls had immense, unjudgemental fun. I came close to smiling on several occasions. The tattooed snakes sliding under bikini gussets were of little interest compared with the really rather amusing 'naughty dinosaurs' that accosted me in the afternoon.  The falconry was rather good (and free!). The childrens' experience stuff was appropriately experiential. I exhausted them over an eight hour period for a £5 entrance fee and rather more in random leakage of sponds. On the whole, it wasn't that bad at all.

Suspend your prejudices and I'll recommend it. Retain them... well, Goodwood House is just down the road. You'll get no surprises with the National Trust.  Kids'll be bored to buggery though... 

Pictures. Half of these are on Facebook already, it's not like there's anywhere to hide