I’m currently at a French campsite in the Languedoc, having been persuaded by my wife that it would be a good place to spend our summer holiday. She described the campsite as ‘a French Butlins’, which she knew would appeal to me. If I can’t afford to stay at the Hotel du Cap, which I can’t, I’d prefer to be at the bottom of the social pyramid rather than somewhere in the middle. But her main argument was that it would be incredibly cheap —cheaper, even, than renting a house in Cornwall. We’re paying about £100 a day for a ‘chalet’ that sleeps six. There was simply no way we could be disappointed.
Well, yes and no. I’ll start with the positive. The staff are remarkably well-mannered. During check-in, I detained the pretty receptionist for about 15 minutes by forcing her to ring round all the local sports bars to see if any of them were showing the QPR game that was about to be broadcast on Sky. The answer, inevitably, was no, but she smiled at me so sweetly and said ‘Désolé’ so sympathetically that I almost didn’t mind.
Another big plus is that the kids love it. There’s a water park that Caroline calls ‘verruca lake’ which they’re happy to play in 24/7. My three boys were initially a bit sceptical because the camp rules stipulate that you have to wear Speedos — more hygienic than swim shorts, apparently. But their embarrassment at having to squeeze into ‘budgie smugglers’ was tempered by their amusement at seeing me in a pair. As Caroline put it, I look like a sausage that’s exploded on the barbecue.
If they get bored with verruca lake, there’s always the amusement arcade, which is situated so close to the main restaurant you can actually hear the noise of the pinball machines as you eat.
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