Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
'Wellifyoumakeitpastthevisitorcentre,'shewouldsay,'you'llhavedonebetterthan
George and Ben. They died right here in their pants.' It would have made her day.
We wandered aimlessly around Land's End not knowing what to do or how to begin
the ridiculous challenge that we had set ourselves. After a few minutes of roaming we got
talking to the only other weirdoes who had decided to visit Land's End at 7.30am on that
unforgiving morning. They were Australian. We explained to them why we were standing
there in our pants.
'Strewth, and we thought people back in Oz were mad,' said Bruce.
'Crikey,' said Sheila. 'Bruce, go and get that old t-shirt from the car for these fellas.'
'No worries, Sheila,' said Bruce. Bruce and Sheila were not their real names. Their ac-
tual names were lost in the wind somewhere.
BruceandSheilawerehalfwaythroughtheirfive-weekworldtourandhadbeeninEng-
land just two days. Why they had decided to come to Land's End we had no idea. They
were in their early forties and were travelling with another couple, Kylie and Jason, and
the four of them were dressed like a mountain rescue team, as southern-hemisphere visit-
ors to England tend to dress. Only a few square inches of their faces were exposed to the
elements, but this was enough to see their kind and genuine smiles.
Bruce returned a few minutes later with the t-shirt. It was a momentous occasion; our
first freebie and we hadn't even asked for it. The t-shirt itself was an XXXL made of silky
white polyester, with a cigarette burn in the back and an inescapable scent of Australian
body odour. I tried it on first, as Ben seemed more comfortable than me to prance around
Land's End almost naked. It was ridiculously big and made me look like I was wearing a
parachute.
The t-shirt did make a huge difference, however. Not only did it repel some of the icy
temperatures that were being thrown at us, but it also transformed my confidence. I was
instantly changed from a shivering fool in a pair of Union Jack boxer shorts, to someone
that was about to cycle 1000 miles to the top of Scotland. The fact that I was still only half
clothed and didn't have a bike was purely incidental.
We thanked Bruce, Sheila, Kylie and Jason and urged them not to judge England by
Land's End, or the English by us. We decided to make our way to the Land's End Hotel,
as it was the only place likely to be open so early. We had high hopes of raiding the lost
property for some more clothes.
On our way to the hotel, Bruce's friend Jason caught us up.
'G'day again, guys. I got this for ya, too,' he panted and handed us another t-shirt. This
one was cotton, clean, white, without cigarette burns and a cosy medium fit. I regretted
hastily grabbing the first one. Ben gave me a smug grin.
The Land's End Hotel is a fairly ugly building, and is therefore in keeping with the sur-
roundings. The interior, however, is rather posh and the reception area was crammed full
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