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Having missed the last couple of ATPs, and certainly never dipping my toes into the icy waters of the Nightmare Before Christmas (seaside – yes! December – ummm, no, are you insane?), I’d never been to Butlins Minehead before.  I’d been told that it was “nicer than Pontins Camber Sands”, which is pretty unhelpful, being akin to being described as “less murderous than Stalin”, or “being possessed of more musical talent than Mika” (please note: I have little idea who Mika is, feel free to replace this with the fancy-panted chart-striding colossus of your choice.  I am aware of Stalin’s somewhat less fancy-panted work, however).  So my mind was pretty open, and being pretty open, it chose to fill itself with searingly vivid images of a land full of colourful flying horses and candy floss, the air rich with the aroma of happiness being burnt on sticks and not a single mine, never mind one placed in close proximity to a head.  Minehead was not to be the warzone of the Camber of my diseased and drink-addled recollection (or indeed that of my previous ATP reviews, reviews so professionally written that I managed to get the year wrong in one of them). Read the rest of this entry »