We only went
out for chips.
A fictional Holiday Hacks adventure.
Same caravan. Same kettle.
Then somebody changed the story.
They knew the way.
A little too well.
For years, it was the same caravan near Skegness. Same folding chairs. Same biscuit tin. His special holiday shirt, whatever the forecast.
After three days of rain, the clouds finally gave them a break. They went out for chips. Nothing adventurous. Salt. Vinegar. The usual.
A man. A wooden box.
A thousand stories.
A little crowd had gathered by the promenade. In the middle stood Blazej: a traveller in a teal coat, with a mustard scarf and a satchel that looked as though it had been everywhere.
He spoke of hidden courtyards, midnight markets and little restaurants with no sign above the door. Not a list of sights. The sort of places you remember.
"The best part of a trip? The bit you didn't know you were looking for."
She edged closer. He forgot about his chips.
What's in the book?
Under his arm was a guide with two words on the cover: Holiday Hacks. There was something about the way its pages caught the light.
SHE WHISPERED"Do you think he knows the way?"
HE REPLIED"I think he knows a few."
Blazej noticed them, smiled and opened the book.
"Now, where shall we begin?"Find your own somewhere new
To be continued. Preferably somewhere with sunshine.