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For the final week of the boys’ school holidays we thought we would head to Elie for a bucket and spade holiday. Elie is a town in the Kingdom of Fife some 22 miles northeast of Edinburgh. However, there is a troublesome estuary in the way called the Firth of Forth. This turns it into a 45 mile drive that hypothetically can be done in an hour from Edinburgh. Good luck with that. Technically the full name of the town is Elie and Earlsferry and we were staying in the Earlsferry bit but only a pedant would seek to point this out. Elie and Earlsferry were separate towns at one point but have melanged together and are now commonly referred to as Elie.
It is believed that Earlsferry was used by pilgrims as early as the 8th century. More recently, in 1054 MacDuff crossed the Firth of Forth from the town, fleeing King Macbeth. Not much of note has happened since, other than when Catherine Calderwood, the then Chief Medical Officer for Scotland, was rumbled taking consecutive weekend breaks to her holiday house in 2020 whilst advising the great unwashed to stay home to save lives. It is a lovely spot and totally worth breaking the law to visit. The beach is magnificent, it has a classy links golf course, a tennis club, lots of water sports, and some marvellous walks. Elie lies within what is known as the East Neuk of Fife. Neuk is the Scottish (mis)spelling of nook. There is no strict definition of what makes up the East Neuk of Fife but the consensus is it comprises several small towns from Elie up to Crail and their surroundings.
By some reckoning as much as 70% of Elie’s housing stock is used as holiday homes. We added to this problem by staying in one although at least we just rented it for the week rather than buying the thing outright for our own use as everyone else seems to do. It is not a cheap place to buy with my recent personal favourites being £725,000 paid for a 900 sq.ft. cottage which Savills listed at offers over £425,000 (hah!) and a more substantial property which sold for £1.75m only so the owner could tear it down and build a pad befitting a Bond villain. The best part of that one is the underground swimming pool which will have a viewing window in the sea wall. I sincerely hope there will be sharks in the pool with frickin’ laser beams attached to their heads. I had booked our holiday house a full year ago securing the last available week for the summer holidays. I would say that it was literally on the beach except @JDB would undoubtedly correct me with a pithy “it’s not a sandcastle Froggee” so I will say it was adjacent to the beach. We paid £1,750 for the week which was not too bad given its location.It was a Friday to Friday let. Mrs Froggee collected Freddo from his fast-track swimming and Kermit from his orchestral manoeuvres, brought them home and after a snack and a bit of rabid running around we were off. There was the small matter of the Edinburgh Festival traffic to navigate as we drove through town but it wasn’t actually too bad all things considered. The Queensferry crossing was busy but not static and all was going well with us speeding along the M90 until my “check tyre pressure” warning came on. Obviously I ignored it. Onwards. The rest of the drive was uneventful apart from missing the turn-off for Elie because I wasn’t paying attention and the boys were making so much noise in the back I couldn’t hear the satnav. We got to the house in about 1hr 45m.
Freddo immediately appraised the house and apparently couldn’t decide between the two double bedrooms. He was persuaded to take the secondary one rather than the master bedroom. Kermit was relegated to the upstairs bunk bed room, primarily because he farted in it during the recce. Kermit desperately wanted to share with Freddo but Freddo has realised he doesn’t like Kermit’s incessant nose blowing, repeated trips to the toilet, and desire to read until after 9pm. And yes, the farting. I looked disappointedly at the double bed and suggested to Mrs Froggee that she could take the top bunk and share with Kermit. We are used to a super king you see. Mrs Froggee gave me one of these looks that implied she wouldn’t even be visiting me, and said she would sleep in the downstairs bedroom. To be fair this had the added advantage that I wouldn’t disturb her when I got up to give the boys breakfast while she slept in as is our habit on holiday. I do find it strange that a small child gets 18.75 sq. ft. of bed yet people seriously expect two grown-ups to share 28.125 sq. ft. Oh well – I’ll try and save the marriage with some grand gesture tomorrow. The house itself was pretty nice. Although the kitchen floor was grim. My socks stuck to it and quickly were covered in crumbs and other detritus. I brushed then vacuumed. It was still bad. But we needed to eat.
Dinner was obviously spaghetti bolognese. The house was pretty warm as we were at the tail end of the August heatwave when temperatures in Elie apparently hit a barbaric 26 centigrade. This became a problem at bedtime. One of the many quirks of Scottish holiday cottages is that owners tend to provide hefty duvets all year round. By the weight of his, I suspect Kermit had a winter goose feather duvet and this kid gets hot at night. Thankfully the towels were massive and Kermit was willing to entertain sleeping under a duvet cover with a towel inside it. He does not tolerate an empty duvet cover as it is too light. Freddo did not like this solution and instead went to sleep in his double bed, surrounded by pillows with just shorts on. To be clear, Freddo had shorts on, the pillows were wearing pillowcases.
By the standards of the drama we frequently encounter on the first night in a new place this wasn’t too bad. One downside with the master bedroom was that it backed onto the upstairs bathroom so I got to enjoy Kermit’s frequent toilet visits. His preference was not to fully switch the tap off. It was quite stiff so to do this would take an extra couple of seconds. Therefore after being woken by the flush I would lie in bed listening to the tap dripping and drain rumbling until I couldn’t take it any more and would then get up and turn the tap a quarter turn. I did briefly sleep. Until Freddo came in to tell me he was having trouble sleeping. Me too kid. Go away. I looked at the clock which said 2:22am. This then made me think of the cricket umpire that did a wee hop on triple digit scores. I wanted to say it was Dickie Bird but I wasn’t quite sure so looked it up. Ah – David Shepherd. Note to self – don’t look at an iPad at 2:22am. If you thought getting back to sleep would be difficult before, try after.
Saturday was a big day as we would find out if Waitrose were seriously going to drive the 54 miles from their Stirling branch to deliver groceries to us. I was up early and in preparing the boys breakfast realised that as per usual in Scottish holiday houses, we had been provided with the world’s bluntest knives. Don’t get me wrong, they would be great in a knife fight as they had incredibly sharp points. But if you actually wanted to cut something with them as opposed to stab something you were out of luck. I paid £16.93 to buy knives from Amazon. There is an Amazon distribution centre in the Kingdom of Fife so I was hoping for same day Prime delivery. Nope. Next day Prime? Nah. Monday? Okay. While I waited for Waitrose, I brushed and vacuumed the floor again. Then I dry mopped it using an electrostatic mop. I then wet-mopped it. There was an excellent selection of cleaning products available for my use while on holiday. Waitrose were late for their 9am-10am slot which had me on tenterhooks but made it at 10:20am. Hoorah. With groceries unloaded, we could finally hit the beach. Weirdly it was sunny and warm. Mrs Froggee set up camp with her picnic blanket. The boys started “playing” which mainly involved throwing sand in each other’s faces. I lasted about ten minutes and said I was going for a walk.
The boys always refuse to go for walks and I have given up asking. However they are inherently suspicious so Kermit and Freddo immediately gave chase in the belief that I might be going somewhere interesting. We ended up rock-pooling for a bit. There were no signs of life so the boys got bored and went back to base camp and I headed to the other end of the beach. I should note that I have never seen as many dogs in one place. This will become relevant later. My favourite dog was a black retriever who seemed to be taking its owner for a jog as she relentlessly plodded after it at a pace of approximately 5mph. It is probably about three quarters of a mile from the west of the beach to Elie harbour in the east. It is a nice stroll. I got to the harbour, climbed up to the observation point and headed back. I saw the black retriever again and was completely delighted to observe its person touching the harbour wall before turning around and going again. The OCD in me really appreciated her doing the job properly.
On the way back to base camp I heard my name. I Ignored it. I heard it again and looked up to see some neighbours from Edinburgh with their two daughters and, I kid you not, their cat. They were heading back to Edinburgh that day but had been in contact with Mrs Froggee and were hoping to catch us and could not leave their cat in the car on account of the scorchio weather. Unsurprisingly the cat was unamused given the dog situation and was holding onto the shoulders of the dad for dear life. Apparently fully utilising its claws. We walked over to where the rest of the Froggee clan were. The cat was briefly put down but made a break for it, trying to hide under a beach hut. The dad was sent to retrieve their car and cat carrier so they could come in and have lunch with us in our “no pets” cottage. I am a responsible holiday house tenant and would not wish to disrespect a no pet policy. With hindsight this seemed dumb when I noticed that the cushions in the lounge were covered in cat hair. I considered inviting my highly allergic sister-in-law over to confirm whether it was indeed cat hair but it turned out she had Covid so it was lucky that I didn’t as the joke could have been on us then.
Anyway, we had a nice lunch. Our friends went on their way and we went back to the beach in the afternoon. Dinner that night was a child friendly sausage, broccoli and baby corn pasta dish. I was relieved at safely managing to stab the broccoli into florets.
There is a saying I recently heard that Scotland has two seasons – June and winter. To be fair, sometimes June can start as early as May and often stretches into August and occasionally even September. We woke up on Sunday to find that normal service had resumed and we had winter again. With little sign of action from Mrs Froggee and the boys locked and loaded on iPads I headed out across the golf course, through some fields, and did a loop coming out on the Fife coastal path. It really is a spectacular walk and a bit scary in places for someone with as weak a temperament as me. I have such low self esteem I feared I would accidentally launch myself over the edge. There is actually a thing called “The Elie Chainwalk” (google it) where some joker bashed metal pegs into the rock and ran chains between them enabling daft folk to clamber along the cliff face. Occasionally people need to be rescued having fallen. And indeed there have been deaths. Some think it should be banned so if that is your thing, you should totally do it sooner rather than later. I did not even investigate The Elie Chainwalk as it is so not my thing. My tummy feels weird at the thought of it.
It was blissfully quiet on the coastal path. I only encountered a few other people including another paterfamilias whose two sons appeared to be willingly going for a walk. I quietly hated him. One bonus of the Fife coastal path is that in places I actually had three bars on my mobile phone which is unheard of in the East Neuk of Fife. I received a message from Mrs Froggee informing me that despite the cooler weather they were now on the beach. I walked back and joined them. Mrs Froggee had her hood up and was shivering. The boys were in t-shirts and shorts and had managed to find a big hole in the sand. By my estimation it was about four metres wide and one metre deep. Someone had shifted a lot of sand. I tried to calculate how much sand had been dug using π-r-squared, estimating the angle of the slope down, and using 1.6 tonnes per metre cubed of sand but got distracted by the level of violence being inflicted by Kermit and Freddo on each other. Mrs Froggee was cool with it as they appeared to be having fun.
I went for a walk along to the harbour but feeling guilty I turned up Cadgers Wynd (cool name), went back to the house and made Mrs Froggee a thermos of tea. With this grand gesture I managed to save my marriage only a day late and then went about my walk. On returning some time later the boys were still beating each other up in the pit of death. Apparently they spent 1.5 hours doing this which is impressive merely for the reason there were no injuries. On my return I remembered how uncomfortable I find sitting on the sand. Mrs Froggee is happy sitting cross legged. I am not and ended up squatting much like I had to in Malaysia the time I got caught short albeit I kept my trousers on this time. My previously held view that only posers take camping chairs to the beach was quickly replaced with a need to have something to sit on. I paid £13.99 for a pair of folding stools from Amazon. Apparently I wouldn’t get them until Tuesday. Grrrr. On returning to the house I emptied out Freddo’s shorts which had accumulated much sand in the pockets. I imagine this happened when Kermit grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him round the pit of death. There was so much sand that I looked out the window to double check the beach was still there. Thankfully it was.
Dinner that evening was to come from the East Pier Smokehouse in St Monans. If you ever find yourself in the East Neuk of Fife and you like seafood you must go to the East Pier Smokehouse. We have been before and the setting isn’t exactly salubrious but the food is exceptional so I had booked for takeaway. Yes – you need to book even to get takeaway. Tripadvisor is full of people who didn’t like the way the owner turned them away when they didn’t book so save him and yourselves the trouble. Please book.
The owner had clearly been working on his interpersonal skills and had a genuine look of concern on his face when he enquired if I had booked. On confirming my details I ordered two kids fish and chips for the boys (£9.50 each); a big-person’s fish and chips for me (£15.50); and tempura prawns (£9.50), Pittenweem langoustines (£12.50), a half lobster (£18.50), and a Portuguese custard tart (£2.50) for Mrs Froggee. Mrs Froggee likes her grub. The boys’ portions were substantial but as the owner explained “without any of the green stuff” yet somehow Kermit finished his. Beating up his brother must be hungry work. Freddo ate all his fish but left some chips.
You will be unsurprised to read that on Monday we went to the beach. It was windy and cool, just how we like it. I had a delivery window for my knives being 12:13-14:13 which was helpful as I needed to be in to take delivery of them as they are a restricted item. This had not occurred to me when I ordered them. 14:13 came and went so I sellotaped my drivers’ licence to the glass front door in the hope that this would suffice and followed the gang. We came back two hours later coincidentally at the same time as the knives were finally delivered. Yay – I can now cut rather than stab stuff.
Monday night’s dinner was to come from the Ship Inn. On being told it was a 15 minute walk, the boys demanded we take the car. The Ship Inn is an Elie institution. They have a cricket team which plays on the beach and has to time its games for low tide. People who frequent Elie talk about the Ship Inn like they own part of it. It is quite sweet actually. We had somehow not been before which I obviously would never admit in polite circles. I had managed to secure the prestigious 5pm dinner slot and we were there in good time. I was impressed at the Ship Inn. The service was attentive and friendly. I had the best fish burger I have ever had (£15.95). Mrs Froggee had the Lemon Sole on tagliatelle in a lobster sauce (£34.95) which made her very happy. We had a side of green beans (£5.95) that was so good it had me questioning all the other beans I’ve ever eaten in my life. Mrs Froggee had a Chocolate and hazelnut praline cremeux (£9.95) which was the most expensive pudding, albeit she said it wasn’t so great. I had a couple of scoops of ice cream (£4). Chocolate and salted caramel. Yummy. I drank a lime soda (£2). Mrs Froggee managed to consume two pots of tea at £3 each. I should have brought the thermos. Have I ever mentioned that money is an abstract concept to Mrs Froggee? Her main course was the second most expensive item on the menu with only the “Chateaubriand for 2” at £85 beating it. I should probably not share this thought but I did wonder if Mrs Froggee considered ordering that just for herself when I said I did not fancy sharing it.
The boys had the usual children’s fare but of note was the “kids chocolate brownie” at £3.95 that Freddo had for his pudding. It had a healthy scoop of vanilla ice cream on top also. I have never in my life seen a brownie as big as this. It should have been filed under the hungry man’s menu, not the kids’ menu. We immediately sawed some off and gave it to Kermit who had opted for a single scoop of chocolate ice cream at £2. I had some too. Freddo couldn’t even finish it after this help. And there was a decent amount of brownie stuck to his face.
On eating his fill of brownie, Freddo asked why there was a candle on the table. “Oh that’s to make it more romantic for mummy, son”. At this point Mrs Froggee slammed the milk jug from her second pot of tea down with more force than could be considered reasonable. Freddo immediately picked up on the distress exhibited by his mummy. He jumped off his chair and launched himself at Mrs Froggee to comfort her with a hug. With catlike reflexes Mrs Froggee, met him with a napkin thereby saving her top from being covered in chocolate. Clearly not her first rodeo. It was time for the bill but of course Kermit had to pee first. We were seated upstairs so I escorted him to the upstairs gents which was out of order. Downstairs we went. The toilets were quite cool with metal pails which made a satisfying noise as Kermit spent the next 25 seconds emptying his bladder. We went back upstairs. Looking sheepish, Freddo then announced he now wished to pee. Mrs Froggee kindly took him to the functioning upstairs ladies loo, multi-tasking by asking for the bill on the way. She knows I am not very good at asking for bills but I am excellent at paying them. We are a good match.
Tuesday was Freddo’s birthday and the weather forecast was for more winter. It turned out better than expected and it was merely unpleasant, not downright miserable. We went to the beach in the afternoon with me religiously checking the tracking information on my package of stools as it had been scheduled to arrive in the morning. We were back home by the time the tracking information said it had been delivered at 5:06pm. I saw a white van reversing up the lane and went outside to look for my prize. There was no sign of anything. I went walkabout. By some fluke, I saw an old lady exit her garden a couple of houses along carrying something. I gave chase and politely asked if the package she was carrying might be for me. That didn’t work. I then shouted “excuse me!!!” and this got her attention. There followed a somewhat strange interaction when she said that she hadn’t realised we were in Elie so she was going to drop off the parcel at Hazel’s. She then asked after my parents. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that my father passed away in 2019 so I mumbled something about them not being here this time, took my stools and ran. It is okay to tell a white lie to avoid further confusing an old lady. Particularly if the end result will enhance your beachgoing.
As there was no Devil’s Kitchen nearby we had pizza at home with a surprisingly bad cake which Waitrose thought to be fairly priced at £15. There were candles and matches in the house which was lucky as we had forgotten to bring any.
By now the weather really had really turned and I was too cold in bed that night. This was turning into a proper Scottish holiday experience.Wednesday was more of the same other than the wind was really starting to pick up. I put the central heating on. Yes, in August. I guess that is technically winter in Scotland so fair enough. The beach was vastly improved for me by having a wee stool to sit on. To placate Mrs Froggee, that afternoon, we popped into Appletons of Elie which has the best shopping in town. We had another strange interaction. The woman behind the counter immediately looked at Mrs Froggee and asked “are you the lady who…” then squealed when Mrs Froggee said yes. I should explain. We had stayed in Elie for our first time for a few days at February half term. Side note – Scottish beach holidays are an excellent idea for February half term as you won’t be disappointed by the weather unlike summer beach holidays when you most likely will be. Mrs Froggee had a nice but brief interaction with the lady in the shop which resulted in her giving Mrs Froggee a small gift. On telling the boys this story they drew a picture to thank the nice lady. The next day Mrs Froggee returned with Kermit and Freddo to give the nice lady the drawing but she was not there. Mrs Froggee gave it to a different member of staff who said she would pass it on. At the time I told Mrs Froggee that it was going straight in the bin but Mrs Froggee said it didn’t matter as at least the boys were happy doing a nice thing. As it turned out the other member of staff did pass the picture on. Six months later it was well remembered and, in the words of the lady, “it melted my heart”. “And I’m retiring next month and I didn’t think I’d ever see you to thank so this is amazing”. Mrs Froggee then let the boys buy overpriced cuddly toys so maybe the nice lady is actually a killer salesperson. I appear to have blacked out at the price of the toys as I can’t remember how much they were other than feeling a mild sense of relief at talking Kermit down from getting a Steiff Dachshund. Money is an abstract concept to Mrs Froggee but even she thought to run that purchase decision by me.
We then had ice cream because there is nothing that says Scottish summer holiday quite like eating ice cream sitting on a bench at a bus stop in the wind. In a moment of weakness I then went back to Appletons of Fife to buy a windbreak for £15.25. I used to laugh about my dad hammering a windbreak into the sand as part of my childhood beach holidays. In that moment I became my dad. (By now Mrs Froggee had gone off to Elie’s premier, and I believe only, ladies clothes shop where she bought a cardigan for an undisclosed price.) The nice lady then asked if I’d mind taking a photo of her with my boys. Just a photo? You wouldn’t like to borrow them for a couple of days? Oh, okay then. And off to the beach we went to try out my six-pole windbreak. I used a rock from the beach to expertly hammer in the poles. I could feel my dad smiling down on me. Until a bit broke off the rock and landed on my toe. Then I could feel him pi$$ing himself with laughter down on me.
According to Mrs Froggee, the windbreak improved her beach experience from questioning-her-life-choices cold to questioning-her-clothes-choices cold. This was clearly a win. That night we had dinner at “The Pavillion” by the tennis and golf clubs. The service was friendly but the food wasn’t a patch on the East Pier Smokehouse or the Ship Inn. We walked there so at least I got a beer. Normally I don’t drink.
Thursday was our last full day. Needless to say the boys wanted to go to the beach. Mrs Froggee stood at the door looking a bit like a hostage who had been fitted with an explosive vest. Because I am such an excellent husband and father. I took the boys and left her alone with peace, quiet, and the central heating. The boys quickly started throwing sand in each other’s faces. I threw rocks at the waves and chatted to dog owners who were the only other people dumb enough to go to the beach that day. Like a woman with Stockholm syndrome, Mrs Froggee appeared barely an hour later clutching the windbreak and a thermos of tea. I truly expertly hammered in the windbreak this time avoiding the use of a sedimentary rock. As Mrs Froggee was now there in a supervisory capacity I went for a walk. The boys gave chase. We walked all along the beach, climbed up to the observation point and then the boys found some razor sharp rocks they could freak me out by climbing up and down. I was so relieved that they survived this unscathed, I allowed them a packet of Twirl Miniatures from the wee cafe at the harbour (£2). The lady there was delightful and admired their puffin t-shirts. Kermit and Freddo got three Twirl Miniatures each and were happy. We started back to Mrs Froggee seeing two washed up jellyfish on the way. I then had to endure numerous questions from Kermit about how and why jellyfish sting and what it feels like and would it sting you if you stood on it and what would happen if you… (I kind of stopped listening at this point). We met a working cocker spaniel who was ball crazy and unbelievably fast. I don’t know why but I never get bored of watching dogs chase after balls. The owner informed us that Elie beach was her dog’s favourite place in the whole world and he could sense it from about ten miles away and would start to get super excited. He’d have an amazing time but then they would go back home and she’d let the dog out into their little back garden and he’d just stand there looking sad. Poor depressed doggy. At least I am happy when I get home.
We got back to Mrs Froggee and Freddo presented her with one of his three Twirl Miniatures that he had been clutching in his hand for twenty minutes. Like a trooper Mrs Froggee pretended to be pleased and ate it. I felt bad as Mrs Froggee had pretty much dragged herself to the beach to sit alone for an hour in the cold only to then be presented with some seriously gnarly chocolate. Luckily my expert positioning of the windbreak had made the hour of solitude tolerable. Heroically I had booked the East Pier smokehouse for lunch so Mrs Froggee got to indulge in tempura prawns, Pittenweem langoustines, and a half lobster once more. She declined a custard tart. The boys had fish and chips again but ate much less. Clearly beating up your brother is hungrier work than walking and climbing. It cannot have been to do with the Twirl Miniatures. I had leftovers from the boys and the fridge. Back to the beach for the afternoon of course. Then a final dinner at the Ship Inn where we pretty much had the same as last time other than I had a hamburger (£16.95) which was very good but not the best hamburger I’ve ever eaten and we got Freddo a single scoop of ice cream rather than the world’s largest chocolate brownie.
That was that. Despite wearing three or four layers on the beach, Mrs Froggee and I had frozen for the best part of a week. The boys wore t-shirts and shorts but were toastie as non-stop battling keeps you warm. If nothing else, this is a top tip as the gas price heads to 15 pence per megawatt hour.
On the day of departure, I kid you not, we had been instructed to strip the beds, gather the towels, clean the kitchen, bath, shower and basins, empty the trash etc. It was quite a list. As I thought I might like to go back to this house I meekly complied. I wondered if we could have brought our cleaner with us. Shortly before we were due to leave a lady came and collected the bags we had filled with the used sheets and towels. She informed us that someone had set fire to the decrepit Lundin Links hotel and as a result the main route back to Edinburgh was blocked. Ughh. She suggested that we would be better heading north and across rather than immediately west which made sense. Except the roads are the type of roads that make Mrs Froggee and Kermit carsick. Mrs Froggee quickly clocked this and prescribed Kwells to herself and Kermit. And so it turned out that Freddo now gets carsick also. After a while he announced that his head felt funny and he started crying. I stopped the car. He had a small tummy-settling (I hoped) snack and some water. Mrs Froggee retrieved bags suitable for barfing into from the boot. We resumed our journey. Freddo felt worse. We stopped again. This time we let him out. All he wanted to do was hug his mummy. She gave him calpol as, at this point, we were unsure what the issue was with his head. Thankfully he fell asleep shortly after we set off again. This was lucky as we managed to find temporary traffic lights which cost us 15 minutes. Freddo and temporary traffic lights are in the same league as bulls and red rags. Thankfully we had blissful silence. When he woke up we were on the straight and flat M90 and we were very pleased to be hit with relentless questions which only happens when Freddo is in tip top form. It was a bit slow getting into Edinburgh courtesy of the Festival so, including stops, it was 2.5 hours door to door getting back. 22 miles as the crow flies. I should have bought an amphibious vehicle rather than a Volvo. Great in the snow, rubbish in the water.
As we approached our house I turned to Mrs Froggee and said “at least Freddo didn’t puke and Kermit hasn’t been whining about needing the toilet”. “I NEED TO PEE” came the response from the back. I reversed into the garage and switched the engine off and said “I think it would be nice for us all to sit for a couple of minutes in silence being thankful for the nice family holiday we’ve just had”. Kermit was not up for this. I opened the car doors and both boys raced for the downstairs wc. Freddo did not actually need to pee but couldn’t resist the sport of it. Kermit was not going to lose that race.
As we unpacked I asked Mrs Froggee if she had enjoyed the holiday. “Too much beach” said she. Hmmmm – I thought that was the idea. At least the beach doesn’t move. Last year when on holiday in the East Neuk of Fife, we took a boat from Anstruther to the Isle of May on Freddo’s birthday and she spent the rest of the day in bed feeling ill. The boys doubly enjoyed the boat trip as they got to spend the rest of the day staring at screens such is the brilliance of my parenting.
I’m going to book Elie for two weeks in August next year. Mrs Froggee just needs more time to let it grow on her.
The end.
Just spotted this post and not sure why it’s reporting as 13 hours old when it seems less than an hour since it appeared.
But am delighted to see, based on your previous reports @Froggee and I will exercise extreme self restraint by delaying reading it until I can reward myself later today after having achieved a fair chunk of boring but essential admin this morning.
Thanks in advance. Can’t wait !
Love it!
It’s a lovely area – we stayed in a beautiful lodge on the Kilconquhar Castle Estate when my son was little and in his knights and castles phase; there are quite a few good ones to explore!Never a dull moment with the froggee family! Excellent read as usual.
Another entertaining read from you Froggee however I feel like I’ve been away for five days and it must have taken you that long to write it.
As for two weeks in Elie that sounds you like living dangerously, it’s rather like the joke: What’s first prize? – a week long holiday in Elie. What’s second prize? – two weeks in Elie…
Also, beware, If you think “Money is an abstract concept to Mrs Froggee” are you sure you can afford two weeks of Mrs Froggee spending freely?
Also, just a minor point but i had to read “having a wee stool to sit on” twice. The first time I misunderstood what you meant….
Brilliant once again – thank you @Froggee and I’m most honoured to be mentioned in dispatches. I was hooked from the first sentence with the correct use of the apostrophe, quite rare here.
While you had to cope with the wind on the beach, our last holiday in Scotland some time ago was a fishing trip to Loch Maree for which at least a bit of wind is essential, but there was not a breath of wind all week which not only meant no fish but also created a midge paradise.
Loved it Froggee. I think you should go back and tell the old lady the truth though.
Thanks again for the insight into family Froggee. I can’t wait for the Christmas edition.
Thanks again for the insight into family Froggee. I can’t wait for the Christmas edition.
I’m hoping there’s an October half-term edition before that.
Brilliant and well worth the wait, thank you @Froggee
Same warm, chuckle-y feeling I get from Norman Thelwell, or a Gary Larson Far Side digest, or my ultimate guilty pleasure, the Framley Examiner.
We had three under the age of three, with the youngest being a super competitive daughter determined to prove that anything her older brothers could do, she could do better, faster, higher etc.
If it’s any consolation, life does get better and returns to some sort of pre-children coziness where £1,700 buys you a 7 night BA Holiday for two with double Tier Points on Club Europe to a 4.5 star spa hotel on the Greek Island of Zakynthos just a 5 minute leisurely stroll from an idyllic beach at a romantically child-free, warm & sunny time of year.
Less to write about, but definitely something to look forward to once you’ve completed your sentence to 18+ years of responsible parenting.
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