Following the onset of the Easter Holiday and the predictable swamping of our town by a disappointed bunch of pastey tourists, the preparation of the Waldorf & Stadtler guide to surviving the holiday season seems the only possibly remedy to an increasingly pressing situation. Here follows the summer survival guide.
1. The Pavement  You're in a hurry. Just time to get a copy of the wipwop and get out of there but you have to get from Lloyds to WH Smith and it's market day. The Pavement is simply not an option. Unless you're willing to remain stationary behind a group of midlanders whilst an irrate mother beats her many children into submission, or crawl behind a group of eldery day-trippers whilst they shuffle five-abreast wedged between Steptoes and a market stall, then the gutter is quite frankly the choice of the local.
Choose your entry and exit points carefully. There's no use in edging your way between two markets stalls if all you get is stuck behind an unloading rusty transit van or tangled up in a mess of factory second clothing. Beware! 2. The Beach Where it comes to the beach, territory is everything. It's dog eat dog out there and to stand a fighting chance as the eager beach-going local don't even think about going there until 5pm. Like hordes of roosting vultures, the masses disperse rapidly around this hour and vanish into their cramped holiday accomodation to prepare for a night  of being ripped off by fairground gypos or a good healthy bar brawl at The George. Unbeknownst to them, they are missing the best part of the day. The tide comes in over the warm shingle and the sea is at it's warmest. Plenty of space for frisbee or volley-ball. The wind dies down, the sun gets low and all is well with the world. Fire up the BBQ, crack open a beer sit there and listen to the lapping water of a glassy mill-pond sea and the sizzling of a fresh mackerel. Perfect. 3. Traffic Tourist traffic, a close 3rd in the list of the most frustrating things known to man (after sudden paralysis of all limbs, and Australian blowflies).  You can risk the lanes to avoid main routes but the chances of being held up by a lost Renault Espace packed to the gunnels with screaming children, bicycles and a semi-inflated lilo are pretty high. Main routes anywhere into or out of the town are thwart with tail-backs, overheated Ford Cortinas and carbon monoxide for breakfast.
Utilise the back streets to get through town and avoid the pedestrian crossings. Down Street can get jammed to hell so if going west to east through the town, go further out and use Conegar Hill and Sea Road North. Gundry lane is always a good one for avoiding the top of town and sneaking around the outskirts. Even better, use Skilling to get around the town. The best route to Weymouth is a mixture of A35 and coast road. Take the Little Bredy turning off the A35 just before Winterbourne Abbas and go over the hill to Portesham. This is tried and tested all year round and it works every time. 4. Directions The best way to confuse a tourist is to tell them that they should "follow the lay-lines to the west" and that they should slap themselves in the face repeatedley should they pass a tractor carrying hay, to appease the pixies of doom. The other way is to, no matter where they ask directions for, send them to Rampisham. What's the problem with that? Gets them out of our hair and from there they'll get a decent mobile signal to call for RAC assistance. By the time the RAC arrive, the tourists would've been frazzled by high frequency waves. Job done! 5. Tourists By Night Retain your clique at all times! This way, the large group of northern people drinking weak lager in the corner will go somewhere else. In a noisy environment, if approached by a Northerner, tell them politely that you don't understand them, and that no it's not the volume of the music, it's their accent. Have fun with Geordies with come backs like this. Northerner: "wayay maaaet, no w'ya get me' hands on some smorrrrke like eh?" Bridportian: "Ahhhh...Have you lost your mummy? Shall I ask the nice barman to find her for you?" or Northerner: "wayay maa..." (interrupt) Bridportian: "Ssshhhh I'm thinking about my next sculpture..." Usually by the end of an evening, a drunken tourist will attempt to infiltrate your clique by trying to start a pleasant conversation. Beware! They are only looking for free booze after hours, and will tag along to your after party party without so much as a half empty bottle of Kaliber. Later that night they'll cop off with your missus and you'll be fathering illegitimate northen chavs before you can say "go back to your borders you filthy northern scum!"...or words to that effect. 6. In Summary Remember, people only holiday here because
a) they can't afford to holiday abroad
b) they used to live here and miss it or
c) they're tied into a timeshare beach hut in Lyme-Regis that slipped into the sea 10 years ago, and the insurance company provided temporary accomodation at Park Dean. Look what happened to Weymouth!
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