The middle class family's guide to working class holiday resorts

EVEN the most middle class families sometimes have no choice but to visit a horrendous British seaside town. Here’s how to survive the experience. 

Beware of the food

Shockingly, seaside food like doughnuts and novelty sugar dummies are rarely sourced from organic Fairtrade suppliers, so take carrot sticks and hummus. The grease-laden death tubes known as ‘chips’ are allowed, so long as you only have one each.

Look out for learning experiences

Middle class family holidays are all about educating, so use an otherwise pointless go on the dodgems as an explanation of AC versus DC electrical current, thus giving your child a valuable head start in GCSE physics.

Have a swearing strategy

Plebeian folk swear constantly, so make your children wear industrial ear guards. This will also protect them against your foul-mouthed meltdown when you can’t get the f*cking ball through the f*cking windmill on the f*cking Krazy Golf on your 46th attempt.

Do not visit ‘amusement arcades’

Unlike Tuscany, British holiday resorts contain terrifying amusement arcades with video game machines that actually demand cash payment for screen time. These are guaranteed to give your children the underclass ailment Attention Deficit Disorder, so make them look at some cliffs instead.

Expect middle class staples to be absent   

Don’t ask a shaven-headed, bulldog-tattooed man where the local farmers’ market is. The inarticulate but cutting mockery will bring back painful memories of asking the builders doing your extension if lapsang souchong was okay.

Stay in your car

If Clacton is overwhelmingly ghastly don’t be afraid to stay in your Prius listening to Radio 4. During the summer they’re bound to have a programme about the magical heyday of working-class holidays, which is much more agreeable than actually experiencing one.

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People who hate massive TVs love them in other people's houses

ANYONE claiming to look down on enormous flatscreen televisions cannot get enough of them when they visit friends’ houses, their friends have confirmed. 

Middle-class parents, hipsters and Guardian-reading pensioners who agree that TV rots the brain and looms over the living room will happily watch three hours of Blue Planet II while marvelling at the picture quality.

Graphic designer Tom Logan said: “I don’t see why anyone needs a television when they’ve got a laptop. But I thought I’d check out this ‘65in Ultra HD Sony Bravia’ that my friend Natalie bought, and it is impressive purely as a visual spectacle.

“I got her to put something stimulating on – the X-Men films are actually quite aesthetically innovative – and yes, from a technological standpoint it is amazing. In a cool, detached way.

“Even the four episodes of Come Dine With Me that followed were actually quite absorbing on such an expansive canvas. Remarkable.”

He added: “Of course, I’d never get one. A huge black slab dominating the room, like the monolith in Kubrick’s 2001?  No thank you. Though 2001 would look marvellous on it.

“Anyway, I haven’t got the wallspace because of the bookshelves. But on the other hand, f*ck the books, I’m getting one.”