Monday, 5 October 2015

Terror At 38,000 Feet and Other Jolly Holiday Stories!

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!

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