A small, family-run hotel in which I stayed recently with Emma Jane displayed a collection of old trophies on the sideboard in the dining room.
Amongst them, one made me snigger, with its neat engraving:
Club foursomes finalists
It’s not only the thought that they might have contests for foursomes, but that our hosts would have been the losing finalists. What antics did the winners come up with to capture the crown? And which of the four now gives the silverware pride of place in his or her living room? “That, vicar? Oh yes, we won it a few years ago. Such a good evening…”
Not long after, there was a travel article about Center Parcs in The Independent:
“Inside each well-furnished lodge, there are beds for four, six or eight.”
A bed for four sounds naughty enough. But one for eight? That certainly sounds like a fun evening. Anyone care for a weekend away?
Actually, given that it went on to point out that “chalets are deftly inserted into mature woodland”, the place would appear to be the setting for a perfectly delicious naughty weekend. First, pick your birches. And then, after whippings have been administered, time for a marvellous orgy…