Wright On! - a wry look at life, with Shelley Wright

Dear all,

I'm more than a week into my annual fortnight away and in true holiday tradition I thought I would drop you a line.

I hope this postcard finds you well and has not been censored by the postman as he reads it on his way up the path.

Now I'd like to tell you I'm writing this from a lounger on some glorious, sun-baked beach, sipping sangria and wondering what to order for lunch, but I can't I'm afraid.

Well, I could, I suppose, but it would be a lie.

You see while glamorous Radio One DJs have been despatched en masse to the party island of Ibiza for the summer to send regular postcards back to listeners - and Aussie funnyman Clive James manages to keep viewers up to date on every other corner of the world - I'm ashamed to say I've got no further than Haslingden this year.

It's not that I find East Lancashire so exciting that I can't bear to drag myself away for a fortnight in the sun, it's just that this particular last-minute deal was the only one left I could afford. I did toy with an all-inclusive in Cancun but decided against it in the end.

So here I am. To sum it up the weather is awful, the food is worse and as for the place? Well, let's just say I don't think it will be high up on Judith Chalmers's list of must-go destinations in 1999. I mean, Wish You Were Here? Don't make me laugh. I don't. It wouldn't be so bad if the sun would come out.

I mean, it's true this East Lancashire town may have has been dubbed Beirut by some in the wake of recent violence but so far there's no sign of any similarly Middle Eastern weather I'm afraid. Drat. Fighting I can cope with but wind and rain, in August? I feel like doing myself in.

It's not good.

I mean, "hello", we're well into August and we haven't seen the sun since the eclipse. In fact, I'm wondering if it didn't stick to the back of the moon with the heat.

Thing is, my friend and I are gutted because we booked the same weeks off thinking it would be nice after the glorious spell of tropical weather East Lancashire has recently enjoyed.

But oh no, the minute we're off work Britain plunges into the coldest summer since the Ice Age. Great.

We stupidly thought that rather than spending money we haven't got on travelling to some far flung destination we would spend our days sitting out for free at home instead.

Well, we're sat here, oh yes, but it's not quite what we had in mind.

We thought we could recreate a poolside haven during the day with a couple of comfy loungers and a blow-up boat while recreating some local dishes at night - but the closest we have come was last Tuesday when the rain stopped just long enough for us to down a Cissy Green's pie on the verandah . . . and then both of us developed colds. It's typical isn't it? I have lost count of the number of red-hot days I have spent at my desk but as soon as I have a holiday you don't see the sun for clouds.

And to top it off I'm ill - it's worse than last year's week in Corfu.

I think we reached rock bottom yesterday when we fleetingly considered going back to work but that thought was enough to get the holiday back on track and this afternoon there's an excursion to Tesco planned.

Anyway I think the sun has just come out so I'll be off. Hope things are OK there. See you soon.

Shelley

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.