During our brief respite in Yorkshire, while indulging in crumble and custard, my father brought up the idea of joining Instagram. Curiosity piqued, I couldn’t help but ponder the worthiness of this venture. You see, I’ve always had a fascination with the older generation. Even as a child, I refused to leave my great-aunt’s side. And in my early thirties, I embarked on six coach holidays alongside a group of strangers twice my age, all in the name of research for my book, The Gran Tour. Thus, it should come as no surprise that I recently convinced my old man to accompany me on a mini-break to Scarborough. However, when I say “convinced,” it wouldn’t be entirely accurate without acknowledging the half-joking notion of having to drag him along. The prospect of a coach ride failed to entice him from the start, resulting in his initial behavior resembling that of a hostage, during the first hour of our journey northward from Portsmouth.
Unexpected Side of Father Unveiled During Trip to Scarborough
