Eurosceptic holidaymakers are swapping Corfu for Cornwall, Lanzarote for Llandudno. British travel agents report that Brits are going to UK destinations they never knew existed.
“We couldn’t go to Paris, obvs,” says Frances Horrible, “so we had a romantic city break in Peterborough instead. It’s fantastic, the tat is really cheap, there’s a Wetherspoons and everyone speaks English. Much better than Europe!”
“Normally we go to the Med and moan about the heat,” claims Claudia Weather. “Instead we found this great place called Skegness. It has donkeys, chips and fruit machines. One day we didn’t even need our raincoats! We had the beach to ourselves most days.”
Among many other comments, “they drive on the left here, yay!” and “we didn’t need extra insurance” came up frequently.
“My Granddad used to go to Newquay, in black and white times,” remarks Candi Kane, “but I thought it had closed down. Imagine my astonishment to find it still there – and in colour, too. Boom!”
Sharon Fayce-Buck is so excited about realising that she actually lives in a holiday resort that she has bombarded social media with photos of it. “It’s great!” she posts. “I feel so at home. I’m coming here again!”
Places like Scarborough, Fleetwood and Bognor Regis don’t just belong to our mythical past like Camelot, they still exist. Unchanged for years, some still accept pre-decimal currency. Our country never went away even if our people did.
“They left me for a cheap foreign tart,” said Britain. “Now they want me back, and there will be Hell to pay. And Rhyl is still a dump.”