My family had a big party last weekend. It was one of my auntie’s 60th birthday and also her and her husband’s 25th wedding anniversary. We used to have an annual big party but we’ve not really done it for a while… (the number of hotels we had been politely but firmly asked not to return to was only one of the reasons).
We went to Llandudno for the party. Llandudno is in Wales, which is the country my ancestors came from and I have always adored. Let me tell you a bit about Llandudno… It was very fashionable in Victorian times when Britain was still good at lording it over various other nations at the expense of their native populations and feeling jolly pleased with itself as a result (I do not condone this behaviour). It claims, possibly inaccurately, to be one of the sources of inspiration for Alice in Wonderland, because Lewis Carroll used to visit Alice Liddell and her family here and take questionably appropriate walks along the promenade with Alice. Currently Llandudno is a strange mixture between Victorian elegance (the old buildings and a few of the people) and seaside tat (the new buildings and a lot of the people). The average age, as with many seaside towns here, is about 85 (conservatively low estimate).
Everyone had said they weren't getting drunk on the first night but by 8pm when I arrived everyone was already fairly merry. There were about 40 people, many of whom I was either closely or distantly related to but I am terrible with remembering names and faces and it was a bit difficult to know who was with us and who wasn't so I spent the evening in fear of going up and embracing a random stranger.
As the first night was supposed to be quite sedate we were in the main restaurant, although round a corner from the other diners. However, given the average age of the rest of the clientele and the fact that none of them seemed to speak at all to the other members of their parties, perhaps that was a misjudgement on the hotel's part. At one point we all sang happy birthday and an elderly gentleman in the other part of the restaurant actually put his head in his hands (it wasn't perfectly in tune but come on...). The evening wore on and the younger generation were out-drunk and outstayed by the older as per usual in my family. In the morning our breakfast waiter talked very quietly to my sister and me and kept asking how we were feeling. I wanted to point out that he should be addressing these remarks to the over 60s in our group, rather than to us.
During the day, as we were tourists, we took the tram up the Great Orme to experience that most British of activities, standing on top of a hill in the wind (this is often known as having 'a good blow' but I feel that people's adult content filters might misinterpret this). Amazingly for Wales, it wasn't raining. We were intending to take the tram back down as well but once we were all seated and ready to go a man got on and told us that it would not actually be going because there had been an 'incident' at the bottom (the trams are funiculars and can only run against each other). He was awfully, perhaps even indecently, excited - this was clearly the highlight of his entire career on the trams - and despite initially saying he couldn't possibly tell us what the incident was he quickly gave in and revealed that someone had fallen into 'the pit' (whatever that may be - all I can tell you is that it wasn't a bear pit, which is what immediately came to my mind).
As it was clear that the tram would not be going anywhere any time soon we did consider walking back down but then someone remembered that there was a cable car and we all agreed that that was a much more appropriate touristy activity than walking. I've been on a lot of cable cars in my time, usually in France or Switzerland, but this was the first one I've been on in the UK (we don't really go in for them much, not having many proper mountains). It was a very different experience. Instead of the cars moving round at regular intervals and people getting on or off while they were moving, they reached the top or bottom and were flung off the cable to be caught by a man who let the people out on one side, walked the car round the bend, put more people in it, then pushed it back on to the cable!
It was thoroughly alarming but also really good fun and we made it down in one piece, although I did have to tell my mum to sit still because she kept moving about and making the car rock. There was a sign in the car saying that we should not misbehave because we were on CCTV (the car didn't even have glass or a door that closed properly, let alone cameras).
Then we strolled along the promenade and I treated my mum to an ice cream, which was promptly stolen in a coordinated attack by several seagulls, some of whom distracted us by flying at our faces, while another stealth agent snuck in from behind and snatched it right out of her hand. At that point I decided that they are horrible beasts. However, later on, one came and sat on the windowsill of the hotel room and put on a bit of a show, standing on one leg, cocking its head and generally being quite cute, which was a timely reminder of the dangers of making sweeping generalisations.
The evening was just as fun as expected for my family though maybe less so for the hotel staff, who clearly hadn't anticipated that people might decide to get up and dance in between courses. I was just glad that the dancing distracted my uncle from one of his favourite topics (Brexit) - my auntie had banned all discussion of this topic and of politics in general as we have a very wide range of firmly held opinions within the family and it can lead to arguments, which does tend to ruin a party. The high point of the evening was when some photos of my auntie and Dad as teenagers were circulated, which proved that they started honing their ability to throw wild parties at a very tender age. The low point of the evening was when my step-sister asked how I was finding it at the second youngest table... and I realised I was only at the second-youngest table! I don't know when this happened.
This was only the first thing to go wrong. My sister had gone up to bed early as my one-year old niece didn't seem to be in the party spirit. My brother-in-law took this opportunity to drink ridiculous amounts of alcohol. The next day he felt really unwell and we were very unsympathetic, which we now feel very guilty about because although some of his unhappiness was undoubtedly due to alcohol, the majority of it turned out to be due to appendicitis. I therefore spent the night at my sister's looking after my niece. While en route to my sister's I managed to drive over a nail and got a flat tyre. To top it all off, the consultant looking after my brother-in-law has said that he will definitely not be able to go on holiday to Crete (we were supposed to be going on Sunday). I would be very disappointed but given that I'm going to Japan in less than a month it seems somewhat churlish.
We went to Llandudno for the party. Llandudno is in Wales, which is the country my ancestors came from and I have always adored. Let me tell you a bit about Llandudno… It was very fashionable in Victorian times when Britain was still good at lording it over various other nations at the expense of their native populations and feeling jolly pleased with itself as a result (I do not condone this behaviour). It claims, possibly inaccurately, to be one of the sources of inspiration for Alice in Wonderland, because Lewis Carroll used to visit Alice Liddell and her family here and take questionably appropriate walks along the promenade with Alice. Currently Llandudno is a strange mixture between Victorian elegance (the old buildings and a few of the people) and seaside tat (the new buildings and a lot of the people). The average age, as with many seaside towns here, is about 85 (conservatively low estimate).
Everyone had said they weren't getting drunk on the first night but by 8pm when I arrived everyone was already fairly merry. There were about 40 people, many of whom I was either closely or distantly related to but I am terrible with remembering names and faces and it was a bit difficult to know who was with us and who wasn't so I spent the evening in fear of going up and embracing a random stranger.
As the first night was supposed to be quite sedate we were in the main restaurant, although round a corner from the other diners. However, given the average age of the rest of the clientele and the fact that none of them seemed to speak at all to the other members of their parties, perhaps that was a misjudgement on the hotel's part. At one point we all sang happy birthday and an elderly gentleman in the other part of the restaurant actually put his head in his hands (it wasn't perfectly in tune but come on...). The evening wore on and the younger generation were out-drunk and outstayed by the older as per usual in my family. In the morning our breakfast waiter talked very quietly to my sister and me and kept asking how we were feeling. I wanted to point out that he should be addressing these remarks to the over 60s in our group, rather than to us.
During the day, as we were tourists, we took the tram up the Great Orme to experience that most British of activities, standing on top of a hill in the wind (this is often known as having 'a good blow' but I feel that people's adult content filters might misinterpret this). Amazingly for Wales, it wasn't raining. We were intending to take the tram back down as well but once we were all seated and ready to go a man got on and told us that it would not actually be going because there had been an 'incident' at the bottom (the trams are funiculars and can only run against each other). He was awfully, perhaps even indecently, excited - this was clearly the highlight of his entire career on the trams - and despite initially saying he couldn't possibly tell us what the incident was he quickly gave in and revealed that someone had fallen into 'the pit' (whatever that may be - all I can tell you is that it wasn't a bear pit, which is what immediately came to my mind).
As it was clear that the tram would not be going anywhere any time soon we did consider walking back down but then someone remembered that there was a cable car and we all agreed that that was a much more appropriate touristy activity than walking. I've been on a lot of cable cars in my time, usually in France or Switzerland, but this was the first one I've been on in the UK (we don't really go in for them much, not having many proper mountains). It was a very different experience. Instead of the cars moving round at regular intervals and people getting on or off while they were moving, they reached the top or bottom and were flung off the cable to be caught by a man who let the people out on one side, walked the car round the bend, put more people in it, then pushed it back on to the cable!
It was thoroughly alarming but also really good fun and we made it down in one piece, although I did have to tell my mum to sit still because she kept moving about and making the car rock. There was a sign in the car saying that we should not misbehave because we were on CCTV (the car didn't even have glass or a door that closed properly, let alone cameras).
Then we strolled along the promenade and I treated my mum to an ice cream, which was promptly stolen in a coordinated attack by several seagulls, some of whom distracted us by flying at our faces, while another stealth agent snuck in from behind and snatched it right out of her hand. At that point I decided that they are horrible beasts. However, later on, one came and sat on the windowsill of the hotel room and put on a bit of a show, standing on one leg, cocking its head and generally being quite cute, which was a timely reminder of the dangers of making sweeping generalisations.
The evening was just as fun as expected for my family though maybe less so for the hotel staff, who clearly hadn't anticipated that people might decide to get up and dance in between courses. I was just glad that the dancing distracted my uncle from one of his favourite topics (Brexit) - my auntie had banned all discussion of this topic and of politics in general as we have a very wide range of firmly held opinions within the family and it can lead to arguments, which does tend to ruin a party. The high point of the evening was when some photos of my auntie and Dad as teenagers were circulated, which proved that they started honing their ability to throw wild parties at a very tender age. The low point of the evening was when my step-sister asked how I was finding it at the second youngest table... and I realised I was only at the second-youngest table! I don't know when this happened.
This was only the first thing to go wrong. My sister had gone up to bed early as my one-year old niece didn't seem to be in the party spirit. My brother-in-law took this opportunity to drink ridiculous amounts of alcohol. The next day he felt really unwell and we were very unsympathetic, which we now feel very guilty about because although some of his unhappiness was undoubtedly due to alcohol, the majority of it turned out to be due to appendicitis. I therefore spent the night at my sister's looking after my niece. While en route to my sister's I managed to drive over a nail and got a flat tyre. To top it all off, the consultant looking after my brother-in-law has said that he will definitely not be able to go on holiday to Crete (we were supposed to be going on Sunday). I would be very disappointed but given that I'm going to Japan in less than a month it seems somewhat churlish.