Should I go elsewhere for my Holidays?

I may have to.
'Twas on the Midnight hour late July last year. Myself and some learned Gentlemen went on an Expedition to discover the fabled and greatly feared Legend of the dreaded Crab's Bottom.
On the Northernmost part of the Hebrides we ventured, arriving at a small Fishing Village. All was still and glistening from a consistent sheet of rain and wind played with our shivering forms, the reason for our quest came to an abrupt end however. . . as a Cowled and shuffling figure approached us, she fair made us jump out of our skins. . . . . for she had a face that did indeed look like a Crab's Ars*e. Sheepishly crying "Halloo there fine Lady" she swift became agitated flickering her Shrimp-like fingers, going "Pppsssssttttt!" through her teeth and moving backwards like a defensive Lobster.
Adding to this horror her Husband suddenly appeared from nowhere shrieking in an Un-Godly fashion as he ran sideways, tendrils flailing and his great Crab's arms fully outstretched as he devoured our rather Delish contents from the Fortrum's and Mason's Hamper.
Well, sod this I thought. . . I'll not be coming HERE again!