We all
look forward to our annual holiday, whether it be a few days by the
coast here in Britain or a few months climbing some unforgiving
mountain: it's what we all look forward to.
This
year, my wife Carol and I decided that we would like to visit the
Greek island of Corfu for a bit of sun, sea and relaxation. With
everything booked, packed and sorted, we finally set off on what we
believed was a well-earned rest.
A
friend dropped us off at the airport and waved us off, telling us to
have a good time. Carol always claims that going on holiday with me
is like spending a week alone with a psychotic ten year old. I claim
this is unfair, as I'm as mature as the next thirteen-year-old.
Soon we
were on the plane and off up into the sky. Most people who fly know
about the in-flight movies, but many are unaware that there are also
computer games on those little consoles, and there is a game called
"Bejewelled" which is a standard block-type game on there, which I get
quite obsessed with. While Carol watched some chick-flick, I got stuck
into my little game and ignored all around me. I had been playing the
game for some time when I noticed that there seemed to be a lot of
noise around me so I turned to Carol and was surprised to see her sitting
bolt upright, her teeth clenched, eyes staring wildly forward and her
hands firmly gripped onto the arm rests. I couldn't remember asking
her for sex, so there must have been something else causing her to
freeze like this. It was then that I noticed that most of the people
around us were in the same state of panic.
I was
about to ask why Carol was in such a state of shock when the
aeroplane dropped alarmingly dowwards. People made the same noises
usually reserved for roller-coaster rides, but did it with a lot more
urgency. We had hit a storm as we were about to land. Because I had
been so wrapped up in the computer game, I hadn't noticed that the
pilot had tried to land on many occasions, but the plane was being
blown about like a sweet wrapper in the wind. I thought it was just a
bit of turbulence.
Finally
the pilot announced over the intercom that the storm was so bad it
was impossible to land and we were running out of fuel, so he had no
choice but to make a run for it and land in mainland Greece. He said
this in the same voice that I use when Carol is map-reading for me on
a long journey in the car! He was either trying to hide his fear, or
his anger!
Once
safely on the ground we were held up in the aeroplane not allowed out.
The plane was refuelled and we had to wait out the storm. Situations
like this bring out the best and the worst in people. The cabin crew
were wonderful. They, too, had never encountered anything like this.
But it wasn't long before Mr Posh who knows everything stepped
forward accusing the pilot of doing this on purpose.
The
cabin crew explained to this high-rate (see what I did there?)
arse-hole that the pilot's main concern is for the safety of the
passengers and the plane. I think it may have been the other way
round, but anyway you get my drift. Then Mr Posh announced in a very
theatrical loud voice, “I have looked on Google and it says the
weather is fine there!” Which then begs the questions of what was
that we had just encountered then? Was the pilot actually trying to
land in Corfu or in the Bermuda Triangle? Or was Mr Posh a retarded
half wit?! It seems the answer was indeed 'C'.
We had
set off at 3pm, and at nearly 2am we touched down on a wet and stormy
Corfu. Pilot 1, Google nil.
All
went as planned from that point on, until we reached our hotel. While we
were being checked in by a sleepy dishevelled receptionist who had
obviously fallen asleep at his desk prior to our arrival. His
English was not the best, but was far superior to my Greek. It was, by now,
well past two in the morning and everything was closed up for the
night. On completing our check-in, we were then handed a plate
containing a warm unhappy looking sandwich, crisps and a peach? This
was to be our 'welcome meal'.
But who cares? All Carol and I wanted
was to get off to bed for some shut-eye. Before we could leave
reception, however, the next set of people who were to book in started to
complain that everything was shut up. This tiresome little man was
the type that likes to try and get everyone else to gang up on his
hapless victims when he complains. You know the sort. They talk in a
very loud voice and look around the room with a sneer on their
miserable little faces while they point out something which is out of
the control of the person they are complaining to. I like to pretend
to be on the side of the self-righteous, while slowly mocking them in
front of their audience. Though I was tired, I felt it was my duty to
join in with my fellow Brit, who, for some unknown reason, started
talking as if he was in a 1930's western movie.
“We
fly long way to be here tonight” he started, while looking at me
for back up.
I, of
course, thought it was only right to help out my fellow traveller, “We
fly in big iron bird,” I added. Carol then kicked me on the ankles
at this point, but for some reason the other guy nodded in agreement.
“We
have no food, no drink for long time!” was his next attempt at
speaking Greek.
“He,
heap-um hungry,” I added. By now, Carol had walked off to try and
find our room.
“This
only food you give to me and wife.”
“His
squaw mighty big woman, need more food!” This was a bit too far, as
the Brit turned to me and said, “What the fuck are you on about?”
“Me
go, ciao, ciao then go pow wow!” I said, waving to him while walking
off, as I'm sure he was ready to take a punch at me. The receptionist
looked on with a look of a man that neither cared or bothered.
This
couple ignored both Carol and myself for the rest of the holiday,
obviously thinking that we were both suffering from some sort of mental
illness. I did overhear him talking to others about all his previous
holidays that were spent on the isle of Kos, “But it said on the
news that loads of immigrants are landing there now, so they will
destroy the island. That's why we're not going there this year. Shame
he wasn't talking to me any more because I could have pointed out to
him that tourism is a form of mass immigration and it's very
beneficial to the island. The way the Greek people have handled the
REFUGEE crisis is to be applauded, even though it is destroying their
economy because idiots like my little friend their have cancelled
their holidays. One of the reasons we chose to go to a Greek island
was to help support the Greek people, albeit in a very small way.
Rhodes was our first choice which has lots of refugees landing there
at the moment. The reason we chose not to go there in the end was
because of the heat. It was just far too hot.
One of
my little pleasures in life is 'Doing a Gezzy'. I tend only to do
these now while on holiday. If you have read my previous blogs on
this subject you will know that this is me winding people up just for
my own perverse amusement. But while on holiday, I said something to
someone which I thought was obviously untrue and said just tongue in
cheek, only for them to believe me.
While
in the dining room of the hotel getting some food, I was faced with
the dilemma of taking the last of something or letting someone else
have it. I had fixed a really nice salad for myself from the buffet
bar and went to get some prawns. There were only a few left. I put in
the spoon to get them when an elderly lady also made an attack on
them. We both stopped and looked at each other, looking to see who
would give in. I smiled and said to her, “You take them, I have an
over-active typhoid gland and if I eat a prawn, I swell to the size of
a Zeppelin and start barking like a duck-billed platypus!” I then
walked off and filled my plate with chicken.
A
little later that evening Carol had gone to the bar and came back sat
down and punched me in the arm saying, “Go on, tell me what crap
you have been saying now?” I am always being accused by Carol of
talking crap, but this is only true for about 40% of the time. This
time I genuinely didn't know what she was on about.
“The
old lady over there is concerned about your over active thyroid
gland”.
“I
don't know what you're talking about”.
“She
said that if you eat a prawn you swell up and bark or something? I
tell you what was funny though, she said you had an over active
typhoid gland?”
“Ignore
her, I didn't say anything about having an over active thyroid gland,
she's probably pissed.” With that, we started to chat about
something else. For once I wasn't lying because I definitely said
'typhoid gland'.
The
only Gezzy I managed to do on this holiday was one of the stranger
ones. While Carol was buying up quantities of tourist tat to give to
people we don't like, I sat outside various emporiums of Greek
merchandise, all made in China. When a man made a tutting sound in my
direction. I looked at him to see what it was I had done to deserve
the tut. But it was one of those "talk to me" tuts, you know, “Look
at us standing here while them women are in there shopping, what are we
like?” I smiled back and nodded. He then started to chat to me. At
first it was the usual sport-based chat and holiday chat then it
turned to the thing that people who go to Greece seem to be obsessed
with, will there be refugees there? He made quite few negative and,
for me, quite irritating comments on the subject, based on 'let them
drown' or 'send them back'. I was about to tell him to 'go forth and
multiply' when I decided on a cunning plan.
“Have
you seen the news this week?” I asked, hoping that he hadn't.
“No,
Why?”
“Cameron
has been caught asking Asians living in Britain to claim that they
are from Syria. This is so he can tell the EU that he has taking in
his quota of refugees and doesn't have to take any in!"
“That's
brilliant, the man's a genius!” replied my small-minded little
bigoted friend.
“In
return, he's given each person a thousand pounds and a new council
house for helping him out.”
“What
the fuck has he done that for, the stupid bastard? Why should I pay
for them to have a council 'ouse? They already get first dibs on
them. And why a grand? The don't give me fuck all, don't this
government!” Which wasn't true, as I found out later he was on
disability benefit, but he seemed to get about OK to me.
It
wasn't until two days later, while talking to someone else in a bar,
that this one came back to me. The couple we were talking to told us
about Cameron's little deal with, 'The Asians' who ever 'The Asians' are
supposed to be.
The
problem is that later Carol asked me if I thought this was true? You
see I am strictly forbidden to do a Gezzy by Carol because of the
trouble she says it causes. So I couldn't tell her that I had told
the eejit a few days earlier the same story to wind him up, but I was very
disappointed that Carol even considered this to be true, although
with this government, anything is believable.
Got to
go now, my typhoid gland is playing me up!
