I stayed in a seafront hotel for my holiday,  and paid extra for a sea view room which was a huge mistake. I should have paid double extra to sleep at the back overlooking the extractor fans which would have been quieter. I didn’t sleep because of the din from the Karaoke Bar two floors below my room that chucked out at 1am. There was a woman, called Babe, who screeched ‘I Will Always Love You’ so loud and out of tune that I actually considered going down there in my checked Primark pyjamas, gel eye mask and earplugs to show her how it should be done.  And Tiny Tim sounds like Pavarotti compared to me.

 I know her name was Babe because Kevin, her boyfriend, kept hollering “Do It Babe”, “Go for It Babe”, “You are amaaaaaaaaaazing Babe” and “What a Babe” as she sang. I know his name was Kevin because she kept yelling “This one’s for you Kevin” and “I love you soooooooo much Kevin”  and “I swear I’ll never do it again Kevin, trust me”  during the instrumental parts of her song. Sadly she didn’t mean Karaoke when she shouted she’d never do it again.   Her second song choice was ‘Hero’.

I also know what Babe had  for her dinner on Tuesday 26th August because as she vomited underneath my balcony window Kevin said “Beansprouts. Where’d you go for the Chinese, Babe?”

The morning after the death by karaoke night my husband and I tackled the Beachy Head Walk - as featured in the Sunday Times where it was classified as easy/moderate. Yeah, if you’re the jolly green giant.

The walk began with a cup of tea in the pub that’s the only place to get a drink at the Beachy Head car park. I was wearing walking boots and as I stepped away from the busy bar area with a carton of sloppy hot tea in each hand the laces of the boot on my left foot got hooked onto the right boot which meant I could only walk in mini steps out of the bar down the steps and to the picnic tables outside. Picture a geisha girl without the make up and wearing a purple fleece. Make that three geisha girls.

 I sparrow stepped to the tables and there was no sign of my husband. I heard applause and followed the sound to find him transfixed by a spinning wheel display in the foyer of the Beachy Head museum. The woman doing the display had the sort of cleaveage that made the cliffs at Beachy Head look small, and he didn’t care that his tea had gone cold.

One listener said that her boyfriend had gone grey in his twenties and had styled his hair into a magnificent black and white mohican, and another cheerfully crucified a very popular karaoke song.  I love Radio.

And the gaffe of the night was all mine, naturally enough.  The broadcaster who was following Matthew Bannister took a few moments to say what would be discussed on his show. His name was Rhod Sharpe and he referred to our conversation about grey hair and admitted he could do with a ‘little something’ for his. I cheekily suggested  some viagra might do the trick, and then discovered the title of his four  hour show from 1am to 5am was ‘Up All Night’.

Oooops.