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A summer holiday

The summer holidays. The long awaited and much anticipated break from studying- Sun, sea and,
picnics by the shore, catching up with old and new friends. Idyllic holidays exploring the world. That’s the
picture that’s painted. Some of it happens, and it can be a lovely break. But for some students the reality
is three months of idle boredom, low paid work and the occasional trip to the local beach.
With limited funds, the big summer break eludes most students. They bide themselves over with jobs in
retail, giving up all free time and forgoing fun days out with friends and family.
I myself had illusions of grandeur, plans for an exotic holiday in the sun. My reality was very different.
The only job I could find was a horribly early morning shift putting together online deliveries at my local
Supermarket. As for fun days, out well I almost succeeded.
On a rare day, off I planned a trip to Brighton, not too far but far enough to feel like a bit of a holiday.
Plans set and my best friend ready to meet me for fun and adventure, I excitedly counted down the days.
The day arrived. Ture to its grey nature the English weather was not on my side, it was a chilly start and
the looming clouds promised rain at some point in the day. But, nevertheless I was determined to enjoy
my day of freedom. I made it to the station in plenty of time, and by some miracle the southern rail trains
were running on time! The day seemed off to a good start, and from there it only got better. One amazing
best friend was located several stops before Brighton, and upon arrival the weather even seemed to be
on our side. We enjoyed several hours of shopping in the Lanes, and everything was seemingly perfect.
As with any summer day out, it wouldn’t have been completed without a trip to the beach. This was my
first mistake. Lulled into a false sense of security by the days success, myself and Molly happily walked
down to Brighton pier, stopping off at a few shops on the way. Now the beach that greeted us was hardly
an exotic sand filled dream, but the salty air and rocky path of stones was quaint enough to complete my
holiday. We settled down on the stones, surprisingly comfortable after all our walking, and decided on
chips for lunch. This was mistake number two. The reality and disappointment of the summer crashed
down before me, in the shape of one bold and vicious seagull. A seagull who saw fit to take the chip not
from my hand but directly from my mouth. After stunning me with a whack to the head from a surprisingly
heavy wing and swooping of with his prize, the ever-rude seagull chose to sit and eat just along the
beach from us.
Chips abandoned I looked up to my best friend, hoping to see some form of amazement or support for
the ordeal I had suffered. I saw neither. My lovely best friend was crying with laughter, phone at the
ready to capture my shock with a rather unflattering photo.
That concludes my summer tale. Maybe in thirty years’ time when I’m free of crippling student debt, I’ll
make it to a sunny beach in a gorgeous country, and endeavour to enjoy hassle free chips on the beach.
If that days comes let’s just hope that the Brighton fiend, the chip stealing seagull will not follow me.

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