Journal Monday 25th August 2025

Oooh AI doesn’t like my content today again, so won’t generate a title. Ah well.

Tell me what do all of these awesome things have in common? Bohemian Rhapsody, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Jaws, Starsky & Hutch, Salem’s Lot by Stephen King & me. That’s right folks, all unleashed on the world back in 1975.

Today tis my 50th Birthday and I don’t mind it.

Another zoo day beckoned, but we didn’t realise that breakfast was included in our stay, so after a bonus breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon on toast with coffee and juice, I got to open my presents. To be honest there’s nothing I needed, but I unwrapped some awesome books, The Black Parade on Vinyl, (because I was still mad that I forgot to buy tickets for My Chemical Romance), a Japanese gardening knife called a Hori Hori, and something else that (because Brexit), will be coming over via family when they come to visit in September. The sun is shining, I’m at a bloody big zoo, I’m pretty happy with my lot.

It did occur to me what housekeeping might think about the contents of our room containing a big knife, a book on poisonous plants and a stuffed vulture, but we are where we are.

We saw all manner of amazing things today, and after our reconnaissance trip the day before knew exactly where to sit for maximum vultures on your head action during the bird show. We sat right under the perch where a man basically overarm throws eagles at you for 10 minutes. I cried a second time.

Lunch was distinctly mediocre, but theme park food teamed with typical French service and all that. Was just glad of a sit down.

Was very glad that we didn’t do the cable cars as there was a period where they didn’t move for about 15 minutes. Definitely not for me.

The beauty of staying on site (or near enough) is of course when it’s too hot and the animals are inside or sleeping you can bugger off back to the hotel and go for a swim, so we spent a very pleasant couple of hours doing just that. Then waiter service appeared poolside, and we had a beer. This is nice.

There have been one or two little people niggles though, you know my thoughts on spending too much time in crowds or generally busy places. This time I am sucking it up, because this birthday, like all others before it, falls in school holidays, and most years slap bang on August Bank Holiday weekend. I have generally never celebrated my birthday ON my actual birthday for my entire life, due to cost/availability of things/people, general hassle of travel etc. I have to therefore accept that this year, this trip was my choice, and with this comes said niggles.

While eating today for example, a boy grabbed another little girl round the neck and tried to drag her off her chair. They didn’t know each other, she was just sat eating her chicken nuggets and minding her own business, and the next thing in floods of tears the poor thing. In the loo this afternoon, as I’m holding one half of a saloon style swing door open for a lady with a pram, another barges past me and allows the other half of the door to swing back and trap my hand. In the same loo, a little boy washes his hands and shakes the excess water off directly into the face of a stranger washing her hands next to him. A group of teenagers (despite signs everywhere to the contrary), started throwing chunks of baguette at the giraffe that was grazing nearby. Grown adult men bellowing into phonecalls on speaker. Ugh. People suck. Mankind sucks even. I’ve seen enough endangered species in the last few days to realise this much is truer than true.

However, if you’re going to be truly awful people, please could you reserve it for the bar in the evening, so we can have a drink and mercilessly judge you.

Imagine if you will, the typical sort of Grand Designs couple. Brits (of course), middle class in the worst sense, clearly well educated, and of some means. This couple hated each other, it was palpable. They were communicating passive aggressively through their daughter, who I can only describe as the devils spawn. It was not her fault, how could it be, with these 2 absolute pieces as role models. They’ve forgotten to use their indoor voice. We’re nipping each others legs and trying not to guffaw. At one point ‘Mummy” says something and “Daddy” says “whatever”. The child kicks off. They start to play Monopoly with her to distract her from opening a portal to hell or something. The child at one point shrieks “can everyone just shut up because I’m still speaking”. A conversation ensues and we hear Daddy say “well, darling I would, but it’s the only chance I get to spend some quality time with you”, with so much passive aggressiveness that myself and the hubs eyebrows are doing the samba. The child says, and I’m quoting verbatim, “well, it’s ok for me to be banker, because Daddy says I’m a little chancer and I’ll be chairman of the board one day”. Daddy congratulates his little prodigy and Mummy finally lets us know what her little darling is called. A little bit of Saint Germain Spritz goes down my nose.

And that’s why my vultures name….. is Beatrix.

TTFN,

V x

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