After a desperate trip into Sidmouth to find a chemist which also included a fry-up breakfast, a pint of Otter in the Tudor Rose, a walk along the beach front and a trip to Waitrose and a Spar, we returned to the farm and the full venting of Mirinda’s wrath.
This is directly from my diary at the time:
Oh dear. Mirinda had a run in with the woman who runs Boswell Farm re the pee-ing problem. Gaz dispatched to pack the car, as we’re leaving IMMEDIATELY. Mirinda went straight over to the main house to tell them we were off and how disgusting cat’s urine is to sleep in. Of course, she sat down and told them (reasonably) how bad the original confrontation was handled and all was suddenly okay. Mirinda returned and Gaz was dispatched to unpack the car.
I have to say, I’m glad Mirinda tends to do the talking in these situations as I’m certain I’d have told them how pathetic they were and where they could shove their cat piss room. Okay, in the end they fixed it all up but seriously, do they have to do it so begrudgingly? It’s like everything is fine while everything is fine but when you complain it’s the worst thing in the world.
Anyway, gladly the situation was finally resolved and I watched Liverpool v Wycombe Wanderers in an FA cup semi-final. Liverpool won 4-1.
