Category: Holiday

Italian Holiday – Part 3

Day 4 – Venice

We got up at some ungodly hour, it was still dark, not sure what time, 6am something. Not entirely sure, I though holidays were meant to be restful. Obviously not.

We had a breakfast of meats and cheeses, the salami was still brown around the edges, I assume it’s meant to be like this now. Though I still didn’t have any, can’t risk having a runny bottom here, everywhere you go they charge you for needing a toilet, supply and demand I guess. Well charge you for using a toilet, not needing a toilet, that would be one hell of a tax.

Mum and Dad couldn’t seem to wake up and were in a grumpy mood, as was I. I didn’t really think this morning, and went on the assumption that Venice would be really hot like last time we came here, it was 45 degrees then.  We went on the bus, none of us took any coat or cardigan, this was a big mistake because when we finally got to Venice, it was blowing a gale and freezing cold. Well not freezing, but cold, my nipples certainly knew about it.

These come alive at night and scream
These come alive at night and scream

The coach tour we are with are a mixed bunch, some ripe old birds up for ‘the crack’ and some right grumpy gits. We were all stood waiting to get the water taxi to the main bit of Venice, while being cold, a man with a fake teddyboy style wig and his friends went and sat on a wall, then when it was time for us to go into the water taxi, they didn’t see and stayed sat on this wall, this angered the normally cheery chubby driver, the other slim driver remained his usual miserable self.

We were on the water taxi and exposed to the elements. I’ve not been so cold in ages, Cecil was shivering and mum was actually cuddling up to him for body heat.

We got into Venice, we had paid an extra 25 Europe’s to go for a ride on the gondolas.  We had to go in a group with two other old woman. As it was very windy the first bit of the ride was rough as it was on the sea, the two old woman, and Mum did not take kindly to this. They were laughing, but it was a laugh of hysteria, but not a good hysteria, an hysteria of terror. Also when I got onto the gondola, the damn thing very nearly tipped over and put everyone in the sea. The woman screamed, and rightly so!

The gondola took us around the water ways of Venice, and water way to travel, it really is the only way to see the canals of this beautiful town/city. Though the captain? Driver? Pilot? Shouted at mum when she put her arm over the edge of the boat. He shouted in Italian, so we’ve no idea if it was a polite suggestion or a violent mafia style threat.

Parts of the canals smelled of poo.  It was nice though, not the poo smell, the canals. We then got off the boat, which almost tipped up again twice when I stood up and when I got off. The woman screamed!

There’s not much say about it really, we walked around for four hours, we got very lost (and a little grumpy), saw some sights, ate a dry salami sandwich and had an ice cream that was very nice. The only thing of slight interest was a very old woman, French, was pleading with my mum for something, my mum thought she was lost or tired, the old woman had a wrist strap on and a walking stick, I thought she might be a very old pick pocket so I watched her other arm/hand very carefully. She kept pleading with my mum in French but as I’ve said, the only thing my mum knows in French is “I can’t speak French” the old woman let her go. I still don’t know what she really wanted. Maybe she was an old kiss a gram.

Eventually it was time to get back on the water taxi, Venice is really nice, but busier than any other place I have ever been on earth, so many people of all races, creed, colours and smells.

Oh and we saw a man kick a pigeon and break its wing and leg, he did it right in front of the police who ran after him, it was very upsetting to see.

We then all waited by the jetty to get our river taxi back to the main land, we were in a big group and another big group of people were waiting for their taxi to our right.  Our driver told us all to walk through their group and get on our taxi, but when half of us had gone through this other group started to board their taxi, cutting off our path to our ferry. They slowed down and eventually stopped, trapping me and about 6 old ladies, the old woman in front of me asked someone from this other group if we could get through their group and re-join ours, but the grumpy old cow refused, thinking we were trying to get in front of them on to their taxi, so the old woman from our group, who was from Newcastle, elbowed at this other woman in the stomach and barged passed her. I was agog. Biddy on biddy violence. The other remaining biddies all started walking through the gap the violent woman had made, so I had no option but to go with them, lest be stuck in Venice forever.

We then sat on the taxi then the bus and I was desperate for a wee, it took me an hour to build up the courage to use the toilet on board the bus, but when I did, oh the relief and it was a wee of epic proportions!

We got back to our hotel, but the driver, who I might have mentioned is slim and really grumpy, was half asleep or something because the pillock drove passed the hotel, only by about 10 meters, but he slammed on the breaks and everyone shot forward, the chubby driver who wasn’t driving, got up and ran to the back of the bus because he thought someone had crashed into us due to the stupid slim drivers breaking method. Luckily no one had, the chubby driver was saying the f word under his breath all the way down the bus. They don’t get on very well I don’t think.

We had tea, it was fish, flounder I believe, nothing thrilling to report.

I’ve just spoken to my mum about last night, when I went for my before bed wee, I thought I had woken her up because she did wake up, and said I was a bastard and then she had to go do a wee and keep calling me names, but having just spoken to her, she has absolutely no recollection of this what so ever.

Day 5 – Verona

We got a bit of a sleep in this morning till 8am, which my body clock still thinks is 7am so I was very sleepy. We went to breakfast and the old couple we share the table with, who today is their 54th wedding anniversary, didn’t turn up, so I got to sit there quietly eating continental breads, cheeses and meats. It was very nice.

After breakfast we got on the coach and went to Verona, it was surprisingly lovely, we had been before and I found it boring and a bit frightening due to the high level of living statues. This time we decided to venture into the (apparently) 3000 year old arena, it was big, stone and full of tourists. Though I did manage to go for a free wee wee, though when I was coming out of the cubicle in the men’s toilet an old woman was waiting to go in, it was the men’s toilet, but she, like almost all the people I’ve seen on the continent, didn’t give a plop what people thought and just did whatever she wanted! Oh what a way to live, you get to do whatever you want, be rude, push in queues, drive at people, shout at people and the what not, we seem so polite compared.

I don't know who these people are!
I don’t know who these people are!

We then went round Verona, not much to say really, it’s nice, there were living statues, but they didn’t hassle me. We had lunch in a restaurant, more pasta, I’m a bit sick of pasta! We asked a man for the bill, he said yes, then never came back to us, we saw him serving loads of other people, so I being a bit too warm and wanting to go asked a waitress for the bill in quite an abrupt tone, and a bill was swiftly produced! Maybe this being rude thing is brushing off on me.

I could eat all that right now!
I could eat all that right now!

Then we got the bus back.

On the way to the hotel we stopped off at a duty free type shop, there was wine, foods and trinkets. Me and mum videoed the items on display, on our own separate camcorders, but as mum was videoing the grump young shop woman marched over to her and demanded she didn’t film in the shop. I don’t think she had spotted me. Why was she so angry about olive oil being filmed?! I’ll never know.  Mum got a bit embarrassed and walked away. We bought a few chocolates and booze, miniatures, nothing fancy, it’s just like shopping in an expensive Aldi or Lidl.

We got back to the hotel early and after we packed, I persuaded Mum and Dad to come for a walk, because I wanted to video and take pictures with my underwater camera, and we did go for a walk, I persuaded my Mum to go for a paddle, which she actually did. Then when she was trying to get back up the steep pebbly shore she fell over and couldn’t get up. She was on all fours for a minute, I was just laughing at her misfortune. She wasn’t hurt and finally she got herself up, it was an amusing sight.

Enjoy your trip?
Enjoy your trip?

I took some pictures and video and was convinced a tiny crab was crawling on my foot, though it was a phantom crab because the video clearly shows nothing at all anywhere near my foot.

We just waiting for tea now. I hope it’s not pasta based!

SHIT, MY PASSPORT!

Ugh I’d put my passport in my bloody main suitcase which had just been loaded onto the coach and locked away. I had to go down and find the driver and beg him to open the coach and let me get it out, luckily another woman, a middle aged woman travelling on her own had done the very same thing. I don’t know how she can travel on her own, she must be very empowered. Girl empower!

Tea was pasta based!

Day 6 – traveling home

The day started out like any other, dark, depressing and full of morning trumps. We got up, had the usual breakfast, but I was bold and ate the salami with the brown round the edges. It tasted fine! All this time I could have been eating it!

After breakfast we got on the coach and travelled many many hundreds of miles until we finally got to Metz where we were to stay over night. The hotel we quite posh but they weren’t providing us with any food so we had to go out and find some for ourselves.

Tempers were a bit frayed after being cooped up on a bus all day and we were all hungry and tired, we walked around a lovely garden then got into an argument about where to eat, we wandered around but couldn’t find anywhere with had either English menus or clearly labelled foods.  We’d had enough, there was a subway and we nearly ate there, but just couldn’t bring ourselves to. So we made our way back to the hotel, there was apparently a Chinese restaurant near, though why you’d have Chinese food in France is beyond me.  As it turns out we happened upon a French café in which we saw clearly written “Menu available in English” and we also saw some people from our coach eating steaks, so we went in. We were greeted by a very jolly Frenchman, he was very keen to constantly say ‘paella’ at us. He clearly didn’t speak a word of English, so obviously didn’t know what the word ‘menu’ meant. “Paella” he said again, we walked over to the English people and said hello and pointed to their steaks. Though one of them had some white meat and chips. After a confusing minute and more “paella” conversation he took us to a table and we waited for something, we weren’t exactly sure what. Some giant cola beverages were provided and then eventually, some white meat in a white sauce with salty French style fries. Mum was fairly sure it was veal, they seem to have that a lot over here, though we have lamb so depends how ethical you are as to how abhorrent this is to you.

The food was a welcome intake of energy and all our moods picked up once we had eaten, going on holiday is lovely but it’s very tiring and can lead to frayed nerves and cause tension, we always seem to argue on holiday, I bet that’s quite common though.

We went back to the hotel and slept like babies, in that half way through the night we all pooed ourselves and cried uncontrollably. A tee hee, that’s one of those jokes I’ve heard so much about! We slept very well, save for I woke up as I was just about to roll out of bed, luckily my monkey reflexes kicked in.

Day 7 – To England

We had the most delicious breakfast of the whole holiday, I had

  • Salami meats – 6 slices
  • Weird, yet delicious Ham – 3 slices
  • French bread – half a ‘baton’
  • Individual cheese – 3
  • Croissant – 2 filled with nuttella
  • fruit juice – 2 full glasses
  • sponge biscuit things – 4

That’s not a joke for comic effect, it was all so delicious I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to stuff my face, and it was free so thought I’d best make the most of it, who knows if I’ll ever come back again.

We then sat on the bus for hours till we go to the ferry, as it was Saturday it was very busy. When we got off the bus, we tried to walk around the back of the bus to where the stairs were on the ferry to the upper decks, but there was an open door of another coach blocking the path, about four of us were looking for a way passed when the driver of the coach came storming out and started swearing and threatening to attack the man who was on our coach, all he was doing was looking for a way through, the driver was a huge guy both in height and weight, I just stood there agog, watching, mum was pushing me to move away but I thought it best to make sure this guy from our coach was ok, luckily his wife dragged him away and we all went the other way.  The evil driver was English, so much for us being incredibly polite, we hadn’t said or done anything to warrant such a reaction.  I tried to see which bus company he was with but never managed to.  I speculated he had done something bad and was facing the sack so he didn’t care anymore. The fat tall idiot.

The ferry was very busy, we just sat, depressed that the holiday was over and ate fish and chips.

Eventually we got into England and began to make our way home, we stopped off at some services and there were two opposing football team supporters in the services, there was an obligatory hooligan based punch up and in the end 8 police cars turned up.

We eventually got back onto another feeder coach and made our long way home, my body ached and I was very tired, but it was a wonderful holiday, thank you Mum and Cecil for making it a wondrous time!

Italian holiday 2013 – Part 2

Day 3 – Limone, Malcesine and Garda town

I rose at about 4 in the morning, well I say rise, I mean sank.  The bed me and Dad are sharing (because Mum won’t sleep in the same bed as him, he has very violent dreams and is likely to lash out in his sleep, also night farts) erm, what was I saying? Mum just burst out laughing at a very rude Facebook post, she wouldn’t tell me what it was about.

Oh yes, I woke up at 4 sinking in the middle of the ‘double’ bed which is actually two single mattresses atop two metal frame, my mattress had slid away and I had come to rest on the metal frame.  I wouldn’t have woken up if it wasn’t for Cecil punching me in the shoulder, after an apparent bad dream about a gnome, which was oddly apt for reasons that will become apparent later.

I went back to sleep till 8ish, whereby I got up, did a wee and went and had a breakfast of meats and cheese, though the meat I selected was brown on the outside, so mum advised me not to eat it. She didn’t say anything about not licking it though. Though when she saw me licking the meat, she slapped me.  I ate all the bread and cheeses I had got for myself and went back for a second helping but they had all gone, this coach tour is like a swarm of locusts.

Nice to meat you
Nice to meat you

By about 9am we were all on the coach and informed we would be taken on a ferry to a town called Limone, this excited me greatly, because I’ve been there before but my camcorder broke so I lost all the footage and no one on YouTube could see my holiday there, which meant that literally upwards of 3 people were slightly disappointed! But now we were going back and I would video that horrific shop filled with masks.

We got on the ferry and because Dad’s so old and slow we didn’t make it to the front of the boat and had to settle with the second row of seats, meaning my videoing has the back of a bald man’s head in it.  The sun was out and very warm, but there was a breeze so my sweat was light to moderate (that wouldn’t last).

We got into Limone and immediately looked at all the fabulous ice creams on offer, how these Italians are so thin is a mystery to me, their puddings are amazing.

We walked around for an hour, up the beach, slowly, at 80 year old man pace. Eventually Dad needed a wee as did mum, so they went in to the first public toilets they found. These were toilets of the nature of just a hole in the ground. Dad was so shocked that he called me into have a look. I simply had to try it out. When Dad had done his wee and left the toilet obviously. Not that I stayed in the toilet with him, I waited outside. It was quite rubbish weeing in a hole because the door lock was broken so I had to prop it shut with my left foot while trying to lean over on my right enough to get all my wee down the hole, it was quite a distance from the door to the hole, so this wasn’t an easy task, but I mostly didn’t wee on my shoe. Mostly.

In the middle of Limone there was a man, dressed as a statue of a gnome, he was stood oh I don’t have to describe things anymore, look at this picture of the horror.  Horrible!

Gnome alone
Gnome alone

We had an ice cream, I asked mum for a biscuit one, assuming she was going to order all our ice creams. So when she said to the woman serving “Can I have a biscuit one” I thought she was getting mine. The woman passed me the ice cream and mum paid for it, this seemed odd, I looked at mum puzzled, she said “Aren’t you getting one” I asked her if the ice cream in my hand was mine, she said it was hers, even though she said she was getting a pistachio one. She had changed her mind as is her want.  It was slightly awkward for a few seconds, but the woman serving gave us Mum’s ice cream and it was paid for. We ate it by the lake side, it was delicious.

We made our way into the shop with the horrible masks, they were horrible! I videoed them and left. We went to the ferry jetty, our ferry was due to leave at 12:30 so we were there by 12:20, the bastard thing had set off.  We could see all our fellow passengers on the boat, they saw us and shouted, luckily the captain stopped leaving and drove back to the ferry jetty thing. We had to jump onto the ferry, no gang plank or anything, we had to leap over a 8-12 inch gap. One of the coach drivers was on the boat and it’s his job to make sure were all on before the damn boat had set off. I gave him one hell of a look as if to say, ‘‘If you’d have gone we would have been stranded there, with no way of getting back to the hotel, you utter prick!’’ I think he got the message, other passengers quipped “We thought you were going to have to swim back to the hotel” I wanted to punch them all in the eye sockets. I didn’t.  The ferry set off 5 minutes early. I think this driver hates us for some reason; he’s a right grumpy git with us, but not other people.

We sailed into Malcesine, food was required, all our tummy’s were a rumble, so the usual argument began, I didn’t want to eat in the first place mum found, it looked grotty, or the second place, and the third place was full of people with no food all looking grumpy, she seems to choose all the horrible looking places first then gets annoyed because i don’t want to eat in what was essentially a cave with garden furniture in. So we walked some more, she was obviously getting wound up, we looked at a menu for one restaurant but before we could inspect it closely, a man, we assumed a waiter, bade us come hither and he sat us down at a table before we knew what was going on. He had bamboozled us with his Italian language, large presence and scary face.

I inspected the menu. Absolutely every pizza came with tomatos! I couldn’t believe it, I was in Italy and pizza was a no no because they put real horrific tomatos on it. The bastards! Luckily mum found spaghetti carbonara, which is just spaghetti with bacon and a sauce.  We were further bamboozled into ordering a garlic bread, he did it by speaking really fast and scarily so we didn’t dare say no.

They brought out a thing, this thing.

Burnt oily 'garlic' offerring
Burnt oily ‘garlic’ offerring

Apparently a garlic bread, I would say it was neither bready nor garlicy. I would call it an oily burnt flatbread. Though there was no garlic or bread on it, it was surprisingly nice, if a little burnt.  Then we waited, and waited and waited! 50 minutes we waited there for this spaghetti I think. Though it was only meant to be a starter, when it came it was huge, so much so Mum and Dad couldn’t finish all theirs, and I couldn’t finish their left overs.  It was very nice though.

There is no dignified way to eat this!
There is no dignified way to eat this!

When we had eaten we made our way to the bus stop, early just in case. We got onto the bus, I gave the horrible driver another horrible look.

We went to Garda town, it was bloody lovely, like It all is round here, all crystal clear water and blue skies. The water was so inviting that at one point I decided to take an underwater photo with my waterproof camera. Which you can see here.

Then my shoes got wet. My mum did not like this one bit, she told me my shoes were wet and I calmly and carefully explained that it was very warm and they would dry quickly. I certainly didn’t shout at her for telling me off in public or over react in any way, and anyone who claims I did snap at her in an uncalled for manor is lying!

Later after further walking, we stopped and mum couldn’t resist, she wanted a paddle! So she took her shoes and socks off and went near the water, on the most stony bit of beach she could find. Only it wasn’t really a beach, more a pile of large pebbles, she put two toes in the water and couldn’t move anymore because the stones hurt her feet.  I, being braver and mighty, took my soggy shoes off and paddled up to my knees, my shorts got a little wet, mum did not like that either, but I mostly ignored her. I took some more pictures underwater. They came out badly!

Fly eyes
Fly eyes

Eventually we made our soggy way back to the bus stop and came back to the hotel via bus.

Before dinner mum was reading a pamphlet about Malcesine, which has a castle in it, they have a room you can get married in called ‘Casermetta Sala labia’. This made mum laugh so much she wee’d herself and had to run to the bathroom.  Dad wouldn’t and still won’t explain to me why this is in any way funny!

We had tea and the old couple at our table wouldn’t shut up, just when I thought I’d escaped and we had gone for a walk on the big balcony, Mum and dad went back into the dinning room and sat down for pudding, I obviously had pudding too but I didn’t want to have to sit through hearing this old man talk about things I’ve no interest in what so ever!  Though if you’re reading the Doug and Jean (or Joan, not sure which) I’m just making it up to be grumpy, your story of going to a pub that had a river behind it once, was captivating.

Finally by 9 o clock we left the dining room and I’ve written all this, Mum is snoring her head off, Dad’s trying to poo I think.  I’m going to try to sleep now. Tomorrow, Venice! I hope it’s not flooded!

Italian holiday 2013 – Part 1

I’m sat here writing this

Not pictured, me in my boxer shorts trumping
Not pictured, me in my boxer shorts trumping

There is a smell of calm and the sensation of relief in me.  But why am I here and what the dickens am I playing at? Well read on, do!

Day one

It was four in the morning, Cecil let out a scream, his scream went from his mouth, through the air and into my sleeping ear, filled with terror and urine, I jumped up out of bed, hitting Cecil square in the face with my face, it was like a very violent kiss, if you kiss by smacking your father with your eye socket.

He had woken me up in the worst way possible, the startle method. His nose, now bloody and throbbing, bore the brunt of his stupid maneuver, as did my eye. He ran off crying, and I went back to sleep, I didn’t know what he had done it for.  At a quarter to five, my mum came in my bedroom, smacked me on the legs and shouted at me to get up. An impromptu holiday was to be undertaken, because it’s my parent’s 50th anniversary of something, not their wedding, something else they won’t tell me. So were going on a mystery holiday.  Luckily Dad had packed my clothes for me, I just had to grab my laptop and camcorder, phone and digital camera, tooth equipment and by five am we were in a taxi.  By 5:05 am we were at a bus stop in the middle of town, there were a dozen old people also waiting with cases, there was also a constant steady stream of en drunken revelers from the previous Saturday night, staggering this way and that.  Our bus stop got continually questioned with “Where’s you’s going?” and “Why are you people?”  The old biddies shouted back answers such as “Wetwang” and “who’s a boozy boy”.

By 5:30 an Esk valley bus came and picked us all up, I assumed we were going to stay somewhere in northern Yorkshire.  I was wrong, this was something called a ‘feeder’ coach, though we were never fed any food!  After hours we ended up at Woodmansey or Woolsey or somewhere, I don’t know where exactly, I was very tired. We got moved onto a coach, by national holiday, Dad blindfolded me so I couldn’t see where it was going.  This was a massive waste of time and huge inconvenience because as soon as the drivers got on the coach they said “Welcome to national holidays trip to Lake Garda” somewhere we have been before, but I fear that blog was lost when MySpace decided to delete all my previous blogs.

The day then consisted of nothing but sitting on a coach and stopping at service stations and then going on a ferry from Dover to France, nothing happened on there, compared to our overnight ferry trip to Europort last year, this was a daddle/doddle.

Nothing of note happened in France as we made our way to our overnight stay in a hotel in Metz, save that at one service station me and Mum took a walk down a path behind the services and then a small angry French woman came and shouted at us in French, mum said ‘I do not speak French’ but in French, which seems quite ironic to me, so the angry French woman shouted “FORBIDDEN!” twice as we started walking away.

We got to our overnight hotel and slept like logs, which means going to sleep very quickly and quite well.

French bed
French bed

Day two

We got up at quarter past 5, had the most delicious breakfast or meats, cheese and proper French bread, which both Mum and Dad couldn’t chew because of their pathetic fake teeth.  I had a whole baton of bread with 6 butter cubes and god knows how much meat and cheese slices.

 

Then we spent 12 or so hours, on a coach, with stops at service stations.  Nothing happened apart from I got angry as the old woman opposite me on the coach who never ever wears her seatbelt.

Oh, once when we were all getting back on the bus after a comfort stop (which wasn’t particularly comforting due to the high level of stench coming from the toilet area). We got back on the coach and while I was stood in the walkway of the bus, I was taking my jacket off to put it in the overhead compartment when a tiny angry old biddy woman walked up to me, said excuse me in a rude manor and pushed my shoulder so hard I had to move out of her way, the grumpy old cow sack, I wanted to punch her in her neck flaps.

We got to Lake Garda at about 6 o clock, Mum and Dad rushed off the bus to get the key to the room, while I was stuck on the coach letting old people go passed me, I couldn’t hold a trump in any longer and it just slipped out, there was a very definite stench, two days’ worth of poo was waiting in there and its gas was desperate to come out, and come out it did.  The queue on the bus came to a stop right next to my seat as some old codger was struggling with the stairs, the smell built up and I could see people had defiantly smelt it. I thought about saying “Yep that was me, and if you don’t want more, let me off now, I’ve not pooed in 2 days” but I didn’t I just looked at my shoes and fat ankles.

Eventually we all got off the bus and made it into the room, see picture, Cecil was just sat on the double bed weeping with how beautiful the view was/is.  He claimed to be incredibly happy.

Water view
Water view

After I and mum had pooed (one after the other, not at the same time) we went down stairs and got shown to our table.  There was an old couple there already, as is customary, they were/are from New Castle or Teenside or something, I don’t know, it’s all the same.  The food was semi self-service, well, the salad was self-service, so I had a nice salad of some bread roll and butter with lots of salt.  Then we all had what looked like cheese and ham pasta, but it wasn’t, it was pasta with salmon and a liquid, I did not like it, far too fishy tasting. Mum and dad did not like it.  we’ve come back to the room to eat the expensive crisps we got in Switzerland.

I’m eating some now, sat on the balcony and writing this, there are lots of English people sat downstairs, drinking. They are loud!

German Holiday Part 7

29th September

Watch the visuals of today here!

We were up at whatever time it is before the sun gets up.  About 5am.  We had a mad dash round and got the main luggage’s in the bus, then had to wait nearly an hour before they opened up the restaurant for breakfast.  Dad was not happy.  He’d been asleep all night snoring like a gibbon and keeping me from slumbering.  I don’t know how mum sleeps in the same room as him.  Not only does he snore but he speaks in his sleep too.  He said “there’s mince on the valance” 4 times in the night!

When we finally got to get breakfast there was a whole plate of salami and no other ‘meats’ so I just took the whole plate.  But a nasty Scottish woman challenged me and I had to take it back.  I did help myself to 10 slices of it and 5 of cheese and 2 buns with poppy seeds on them. I hope I get drugged tested because I will test positive for opium, unless that’s an urban myth.

After breakfast we all sat on the bus and waited.  We waited for half an hour and then Ian and Linda turned up. Clearly they had no breakfast and had slept through their alarm.  Linda had a face like an angry German after she’s just heard they are all out of wiener schnitzel.  They stormed to the back of the bus and we set off late. Bigglesworth was not happy!

We were on the bus for nigh on 5 hours until we had a stop at some services in Luxemburg.  We couldn’t afford the sandwiches, they cost 5 Euros each and they all had salad in them.  So I got some crisps and a bar of chocolate, but I was too sleepy to eat them.  I had been drifting in an out of consciousness all morning on the bus.  I kept seeing giant spiders; I think I must be very tired.

We set off from the services and almost immediately hit a traffic jam.  Quite literally!  We were slowing driving along with the traffic when some foolish person decided that they couldn’t be bothered sitting in a traffic jam so they reversed up the hard shoulder, trying to reverse passed us.  The only problem was they had a trailer and as they reversed it went off at an angle and crashed into us as we were travelling about 15 miles an hour.  There was a huge scraping noise and all the old ladies on the bus screamed.  Bigglesworth shouted “agh ya French imbecile” and he stopped the bus and stormed out at the driver who had crashed into us.  I couldn’t see the damage and still haven’t seen how bad it is, but several of the old men got off the bus and went to be nosy while Bigglesworth was taking the insurance details of the crasher.

Crash, ahhh! Scraped everyone of us!

We then sat in a traffic jam for about 3 hours.  No one said anything for ages, until it became apparent that we might miss the ferry back to Hull because we were so delayed.  But good old Biggleworth broke all the speed laws and he got us to the ferry on time!  With almost 10 minutes to spare!

We got on the ferry with little bother, save for Dad got stopped going through the passport thing while 2 people had to come and look at his photo.  I knew his weird expression on it would get us into trouble!  When we got on the ferry it set off almost instantly.  It’s not the same ferry we came on but it’s virtually identical, except that this one vibrates a bit more.  I am terrified that we will have a repeat of Dads vomitothon tonight or that I will get sick too.  No please don’t Neptune, I’ll be good!

We went for tea, it’s buffet all you can eat style but the prospect of sicking it all up again made me not want much.  I only had 2 pizzas and 4 ice cream tubs.  We sat in the bar for a long while, Cecil just looking off into the middle distance.  He was apparently contemplating the whole ‘[SPOILER’] situation.  Though he came to no conclusion.  And also he kept having flash backs to being in the navy.

Were both in bed now.  Not the same bed, I’m in the top bunk while Cecil is in the bottom bunk.  My bed is again incredibly narrow, I just know I will fall out of it tonight.  Not only that but our room is surrounded by German teenagers. I can clearly hear every word they are saying, unfortunately it’s all in German so I don’t know what they are talking about.  Probably what’s hip, cool and ‘with it’ in the mean streets of Berlin (that’s what Dad thinks they are talking about).   I wish they would shut up or sod off, preferably both!  There is a gap of about 2 inches under the door so sound travels.  They may as well be talking in our room.  The whole boat is vibrating, it’s like sitting in a giant erm thing that vibrates.

I’m going to sleep now, I fear what the next 10 hours will hold!!

German Holiday Part 6

28th September

Watch the shenanigans here


Today was our ‘free day’ I asked the driver if we get some money back if the day is free. He just walked away laughing. What it meant was that they were serving breakfast from 8am till 10am so we got to sleep in! So of course Dad was up at 7 am as usual, faffing about doing god knows what. I managed to get back to sleep till about 10 to nine when he started thunking about the place on purpose to wake me up. We went for breakfast at 9 o clock. All the meat and cheeses had gone! There was 2 ‘sweet rolls’ left. I had them. Dad had melon. It only took us 8 minutes. If only tea would take that long!

The hotel people were putting on a tour of the local village but as the local village is only 2 churches and a stream and some houses we didn’t go on it. All the other biddies went on it though, we could see them all lined up waiting from our window. They all seem to be making friends. But they all ignore me and Dad, were outcasts! And that’s how I like it! If there is one thing I hate, it’s making small talk with old people for 2 hours on an evening. So they can all go jump from a long pier onto a short road. Or whatever the saying is!

So this morn we took ourselves off on a nature hike. I don’t know why I agreed to it. Probably because Dad said he would buy whatever I wanted from the little shop. I hadn’t even seen a little shop, but there was one. It was a bit quaint and they didn’t have much stuff, I made Dad buy me some crisps, chocolate and a magazine I thought would have naked ladies in. But it was just full of German crosswords. The woman also tried to sell Dad a tin of red cabbage because it was dinted, he refused but she kept asking him ‘You buy? Very taste!’ Dad nearly walked out, but she shut up and just charged us for our lunch items. I asked Dad for a pretzel, he came out with a bread bun and a mini croissant. Though I didn’t know that at the time or again I would have refused to go on the walk.

We began our ‘walk’ by following some yellow diamonds painted on trees; these are like public footpaths back in England. We enjoyed walking down a nice path along a sheep field, all the sheep came and baa’ed at us. Dad stroked them on the nose. I thought that was dirty! He agreed and tried not to touch his face or food with that hand for the duration of the walk.

Cheeky little squirrel

We then followed the yellow diamonds up a bit of a hill. And when I say ‘up a bit of a hill’ I mean we walked for 2 hours almost vertically up the side of a mountain covered in trees. It was the single most exhausting 2 hours of my life. Every bench we came to I had to sit down and have a rest. Dad said we couldn’t have the lunch until we got to the top. But we never seemed to get to the top. Though we did have great fun spotting the local insects. And by fun I mean I flinched at everything. There were beetles flying at my face, cobwebs across the path, caterpillars floating in midair somehow, crickets jumping around us and the biggest ant hill I had ever seen. It was like the one the old German man and young German man sat on in the program I saw last night. I told Dad to go sit on it. He slapped my arse.

Finally we reached the top. Dad got out the food from the shop and I got to see what else he had bought. He had bought the crisps, the pretzel/breadbun mix up, his tiny croissant, the chocolate which turned out to be full of fruit and a square of yeast for some reason. So we shared the crisps and bread products then I tried to have a little sleep. I was nearly nodding off when I heard “ahhu waths thus nuuu, oh hallo ya wee babby”. It was a Scottish or Geordie couple from the coach. I don’t really the difference they all sounds incoherent to me. They came and sat with us on the bench and even helped themselves to our cube of yeast.

After about 5 incredibly awkward minutes of small talk (neither me or dad could understand a word they were saying), Dad said “ahh well we must be getting back to the hotel” so the bastards joined us on the walk back down the side of the mountain.

Linda and Ian they were called I think, they walked with us and kept talking but we couldn’t tell what it was about. We came to a fork in the road and none of us knew if we should go left or right. Both looked like they went down so we took the road on the right. This was the wrong road. After a while the road became a path, then the path became a narrow path, then just a tiny track, then it just looked like where the rain water travels down the hill. It was incredibly treacherous to walk down. I kept slipping as did everyone else.

We got to a bit which was just mud going almost vertically down. Linda had a mini freak out and said she was going back, Ian had an argument with her in scotch, I couldn’t understand him. But shortly after Linda stormed down the muddy bit with no bother, Ian then followed but he slipped right at the top and fell down, then rolled down then skidded on his face. Once he came to the bottom of the hill he just lay there, we were convinced he was dead. Linda didn’t even look back she just kept walking, leaving me and Dad to deal with him. We took our time and got down the slope to Ian. He was awake but apparently he had broken something, we weren’t sure what. He got up and started walking, so it wasn’t his legs. He shouted at Linda at the top of his voice, she ignored him. He was covered in wet mud from head to toe, and he had ants on him apparently.

We took another 3 hours to get back to the hotel via scary paths and tracks. Dad kept saying there were bears in these woods. And I don’t know if he was kidding or not. Once we got back to the village Ian ran away from us. He’d not said much since Linda had run ahead. This is why I hate people, they are all confusing bastards.

Me and Dad have just been sat in the hotel room all afternoon with our feet in water because they ache so much. I never ever want to walk up a mountain again! We’re going for our final tea here in an hour and a half. I dread to think how long it will take to be served tonight!

A miracle has happened! Its twenty to eight and were back from tea! I have never seen service like it. Well that’s not true, I have seen relatively slow service many times in hotels, but for this place it’s practically light speed. As soon as we had finished our soups, the wait was only about 10 minutes for our main course. Which was massive sausage! It was quite nice but Cecil kept getting lumps and spitting them at me because he had, had a beer he was quite merry. It was almost enough to put me off my food. But it didn’t. Then for pudding it was bright green jelly. I haven’t had jelly in decades so it was a nice surprise. Though it did take them 32 minutes from us finishing our main meal to them serving the pudding.

Semi set jelly

Were back in the room now packing like beavers going away for the weekend. We have to be up at stupid o clock as usual on these things. I’m going to get in the breakfast room early and eat all the damn salami this time. I can’t believe I’ve only had it once this holiday. Dads shouting at me to stop writing this and come and help him pack. I won’t, he can sort out my socks and pants, I ain’t touching them!

German Holiday Part 5

27th September

Watch the whole thing unfold here

Breakfast was at 8 am this morning as usual. Too bloody early for me. I struggled to get up at 7:50am and as a result I was frightfully grumpy all morning. I snapped at Dad when he offered to brush my teeth for me. Not something he’s ever done before and I think he was just saying it to wind me up actually, but it just made me laugh, also he offered so I let him do it, he made me retch twice.

The hotel owners had obviously been shopping because the protean ‘meat’ slice was back along with a friend. Salami had been purchased. I had 12 slices! And 8 slices of the holy cheese! And some relatively nice bread had been provided too. So that put me in an even better mood!

Today in the morning we went to Baden Baden. I thought it would be a quaint market town with little shops selling trolls and cuckoo clocks and the what not. I was once again very much mistaken. It is the poshist place I have ever been. We couldn’t even afford an ice cream! Every shop was either 7000 Euro a pair shoes, posh woman’s clothes or jewelry shops that didn’t even have prices on, though I did see one ring for 123,000 European dollar pounds! We didn’t get any lunch. We didn’t stay long. Which was good because street performers were coming out of the woodwork. There was a chap dressed as Charles Chaplin who came and stood very close to me. I avoided eye contact and walked away, he didn’t follow me thank goodness.

We got back on the bus after Cecil bit the expensive bullet and bought some incredibly expensive cheese straws. He won’t let me try, he’s saving them for Christmas, the swine!

Very expensive
They cost about 4 pounds!

We got back on the coach and went to another town, which I don’t know what it was called. I shall have to look at the literature later. It was apparently mostly destroyed in the war and then rebuilt to exactly how it was. They should have put in less jewelry and clothes shops. That’s all they seem to sell round here, overpriced thin biddy clothes and jewel based adornments.

Cecil was moaning about being old and tired and just stormed off and went into a café, I followed because I was also hungry. We sat down and a German waitress came up and asked what we wanted to drink, Cecil did his usual trick of blankly looking at the person serving us, then shaking his head, looking confused at me and saying “what?!”. I guessed she had come to take our order and not quiz us on European socio-political issues so I told Dad to tell her what he wanted to drink. We also pointed at someone else’s pudding and asked for two of them. When she came back with our drinks and cakes, I was given the cake we ordered, Dad was given some strange thing which had fruit in it. He tried to make me have it but I was tucking into the cinnamon Danish which didn’t sport fruit, so I just ignored him!

While we sat in there it began to rain heavily. We tarried in there for a long while; another couple from the bus came and sat down next to us. They were having a conversation to each other, but we were so close we couldn’t help not hear them. Then dad started doing his usual trick of talking to me, about the conversation he could over hear. It was so embarrassing. I think he thinks they can’t hear him but it was so obvious he was listening to them. Then when we left dad said ‘goodbye’ to the couple and the Geordie woman gave him a cold, almost snooty ‘yes bye’ back.

It was very nice, Cecil was jelous

We marched around the town some more, I even went into a shop and almost bought some booze but then chickened out when I saw it cost over 20 Europes.

Nothing of interest happened, on the way back the driver put a cd of Irish style songs. The biddies sang along, I did not!

Were just about to go for tea now, I fear what horrors they will provide us with tonight. I fear cabbage based food!

19:38 pm o clock
Freudenstadt is the town we went to this afternoon, I just found the info!

There was no cabbage for tea but there was once again a ridiculous wait. We got our soup based liquids at half past 6, then 40 minutes later we got our boiled beef in a white sauce. Then I waited for half an hour for some alleged pudding but I couldn’t stand to wait anymore so I came back to the room without Cecil. I think you can guess what I did. Yes that’s right I ate all the expensive cheese straws! They were delicious. He will be furious!

Bully beef?

It’s ten past eight and he still isn’t back. I don’t know why it takes them so long to serve tea, you’d think they want to get us in and out as rapidly as possible so we can get back to chain drinking, as these Scottishers and Geordies seem to. I’m just watching German TV. It is very odd, I don’t know what they are saying but there was a young man and an old man in a forest sitting on an ant’s nest getting covered in ants and getting bitten. Having experienced being bitten by loads of ants I don’t know why anyone would chose to do it.

Dads just come back from tea apparently the pudding was out of this world and everyone got a free set of erotic postcards, but dad gave his away. I don’t believe him. Tomorrow were aren’t going anywhere, so dad wants to go for a walk through the black forest, which were are in. There better not be any bears or wolves. I bet there are!

German Holiday Part 4

This post contains reference to a silver key, it is because of things that earlier in the year regarding a silver box. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it! or your hideously ugly head depending on its appearance.

26th September

I have absolutely no faith in our bus driver, I’m sure he is trying to kill us or himself. He mounted the curb 8 times today!

Watch a video of today’s shenanigans right ere 

First thing this morn we got up and had breakfast. They didn’t even have any of the pink protein meat (they had another meat slice but it had clear gel and lumps in so of course I didn’t try it) so I just had 2 sweet bread roll things and I put cheese on them. The Germans at the next table gave me some very odd looks. I guess it’s very wrong to have cheese on sweet bread stuff. Sod them all. Dad wanted to see how much he could eat. He had

  • Boiled eggs (6)
  • Slices of toast (4)
  • Slices of cheese (8)
  • ‘Meat’ slices (1, he didn’t like them either today)
  • Bowls of cereal (2)
  • Yoghurt (3 bowls, it was the same yoghurt from last night)
  • Slices of bacon (6 but it looked like it had been boiled so I refused to even try it)
  • Scrambled egg (one mouthful)

The second he tried the scrambled egg he had to run off and find a toilet to be sick in. Apparently it was off and also it had the consistency of an ‘egg custard’ which Dad hates almost as much as I hate tomatoes. He sicked it all back up (it took 14 ‘sicks’ before he stopped), then he came back and had another 2 boiled eggs and toast. I just sat there all the time astonished he was trying to eat so much, given he hasn’t poo pooed yet.

At 9 am we set off for Strasbourg. Both me and my father (and grandfather) thought this was in Germany however we were moronic idiots, because it’s in France! And if there is one thing Cecil hates more than egg custards, it’s the French! He’s always had a deep distrust of them since some of them stood in our way when were trying to catch our bus when we went to Austria. Father was furious, but he had to come to Strasbourg to find the key, so into France we went!

We got off the bus at 10:30am and walked towards the huge church thing. Notre dame or something I don’t know, though I thought that was in Paris, but it’s the only French church I know of so get off my back! This had to be the church granddad talked about. Opposite it there was a hotel, the one Granddad lived in for a while with Mimi! We got into the church and began looking around for gargoyles that looked like a young Bruce Forsyth. It took us 52 minutes but we found one by a door. The only problem was there was a thick piece of red robe in our way. How could we get passed this and through the door? There was only one thing for it. Someone would have to make a distraction, while someone very brave snuck through the door.

Chubby cherub

We flipped a coin. And 5 times out of 5 it came up as me having to do the distraction. But I refused. So in the end Dad had to go and pretend to fall over while some guard type people went to his aid I snuck through the door.

I looked up. I wished I had done the distraction. There must have been at least eight thousand and ten stairs, then two or more! I climbed them all. It took me 35 minutes. I finally reached the top. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned for decades. I had no idea which way east was. So I just pulled at bricks near the floor near windows, finally a few fell away and behind them was another leather folder. I grabbed it, but also checked all the other windows just to be absolutely sure I had the only hidden folder at the top of the tower. It was.

I ran down the stairs and through the door. A man gave me an odd look but he didn’t say anything. I went outside and met Dad by the hotel as arranged! We walked down the hill to the river out of the gaze of CCTV and MI5 should they been peeping on us. We opened the folder. Inside was a piece of paper and a cube of stone and a lighter. I read the paper, which had these words written on it

“To whom it may or may not concern. Within this cube is hidden a key. The key belongs to a silver box hidden in my writing bureau. Within the box are artefacts which if discovered by the wrong people could destroy all of humanity. If you need this key the only way for you to access it is by melting the stone it is now encased in. To do this …..”

Then the paper had gotten damp and was unreadable. Dad then got quite angry. He just picked up the cube and lighter and started to try and burn it. Amazingly it worked. The stone got very hot and started to disintegrate. After about 10 minutes the key was visible. After another 5 minutes the rest of the cube disintegrated and the key fell into Dads palm. He grabbed it and went to hug me with joy that he finally had the right key. But then he started screaming. He flung his arms up in the air. They key had been red hot. The key shot out of his hand. The key flew through the air. The key went ‘plop’ into the river. The key was never seen again. Dad wept!

For 20 minutes he just sat there crying, clutching his hand. I didn’t know what to say or do so I just sat next to him looking at the boats going back and forth. It was a busy and filthy river. There was no way we were going to get the key back. Dad then grabbed me by the shin and said “shit, Paul look!” I looked down at his hand and he had a bright red mark in the exact shape of the key. It was a simple key so Dad thought someone could make a new key from just looking at it.

Amazingly we walked 50 yards down the road and found an English speaking key cutter! We went in and Dad showed him his hand and told him he needed a key cut to the exact shape. The man was very helpful and took several pictures and drew the exact shape and size of the key. He said it would take a few months to make a key from a scar but it was possible. Dad was happy again. We went into a restaurant and Dad had a knuckle of ham. It looked revolting but he made me try some and it was delicious salty bacon type meat! I had ordered a well done beef burger. When it came it was pink in the middle, still bloody even. If that’s well done I dread to think what ‘rare’ is!

Vile half raw burger with crunchy off bread base

It was bland and also hidden underneath it was a slice of tomato, loads of onions and lettuce. It was an abomination of a burger! And I think the bun was off because it was very crunchy on the bottom. Another 12 Euros wasted!

Dad said to me not to mention the key business to mum as it was going to cost £325 to get a new one made. I asked Dad why it would take so long for them to make a new one but he didn’t know. It should be ready for Christmas apparently.

Later in the afternoon we walked around shops. It was quite boring. They only seem to have poncy clothes shops here. I don’t know where these people buy their DVD’s or crisps. We got back on the bus, but not before seeing an old man fall of his bike and land on his face. The place is riddled with people on bikes, and they just go where ever the hell they want, even worse than in Austria. Luckily this time no cyclists crashed as a result of me. We also saw a man so drunk he crossed a road and fell over between 2 cars. I thought I would see a third accident, and that accident would be our bus crashing. But he just mounted the pavements several times.

We got back to the hotel at 4 o clock, so now were just sat round waiting for our dinner. Which apparently is mushroom soup. Followed by another hours wait then chicken and noodles. It better be worth the wait. I bet it isn’t! I’m going now to fill up on crisps that are a bit like Wotzits but made with peanuts. I assume they will be foul!

7:39pm

We have just got back from the evening meal. They actually had the soup, main meal and puddings all done and served within an hour and a half of each other i.e. it took an hour and a half for all three courses. Ridiculously long really. Mum would be furious if she were here. But it’s still faster than any other night. But the best/worst part about it was a chap was playing the accordion all the way through the food. So while I struggled to eat red liquid with 1 ‘bay’ leaf Cecil was bobbing up and down to ‘When the saints’. When out mail meal came Cecil got so carried away with singing along to ‘She’ll be coming round the mountain’ that he spat out a lump of chicken which hit an old lady on the back of the head. She looked round but Cecil didn’t realise what he’d done so he wasn’t even looking at her. I however was looking at her; she assumed I had done it. She gave me a filthy look. Most of the people on the bus are Scotch. And the Scotch are very quick to anger. Not like the Irishers or the Welshies. Well its about 70% Scotch and 30% Geordies. So a volatile bunch to be sure. But they do love a good old accordion sing along. I found it all quite amusing and embarrassing at the same time. A strange mix of emotions.

The Scottish woman who had the chicken hit her on the back of her head told her husband. He didn’t say anything to me or give me a dirty look. Maybe he hates her.

Tonight me and father watch a DVD, its ‘The toy’s story’ a rip off of the Disney ‘Toy story’ but it looks like a fun romp anyway!

German Holiday Part 3

25th September
View the video of yesterday and this morning in this video here

Finally we both had an uneventful nights sleep! Until 7am when dads alarm went off.  This was actually 6am back in England but they are an hour ahead of us over here for some reason.  Just to be different I think.  Dad farted around for an hour (breakfast was at half past 8).  God knows what he was doing, I tried to get some more sleep but the silly old sod was bumbling.  He even put the TV on, and watched the weather reports for Austria.  I don’t understand what goes on in his confused head.  Ever!

I finally got up and got dressed, then we went for breakfast.  Cue disappointment #37 their selections of meats and cheeses consisted of one highly processed pink circle of ‘meat’ which tasted like just protean slices, i.e. no flavour. And the cheese was just yellow, it had no taste either.  The breads were only one type and that type was crusty and dry!  All in all it was yet again, a disaster!  And their orange juice had bits in it!  The only ray of sunshine was that we got to eat it all on the table by ourselves again.  Thankfully this was due to some quick foot work by Cecil.  A pair of particularly grumpy biddies were attempting to come and sit at our table (even though I had already put my jacket down) but Cecil nipped in front of them and reclaimed our spot!

Today, in the morn, we went to Freiburg.  It wasa town or city I’m not sure which.  There was a market but it only sold fruit and veg, I was disinterested.  Cecil bloody loved it, he kept going up to the veg and touching, saying how big they were compared to ours.  He held up a particularly huge radish and told me to come and feel it.  I did not!  We walked around streets, the shops were too posh for us to go into apart from we had lunch at a McDonalds.  Dad wasn’t happy about this, he hates them and normally refuses to have anything to do with them, but I just marched in and demanded we have a burger, also I needed a poo very badly so I had to use the toilets.

We walked a bit more, never going in a single shop.  There was a woman, dressed in bright orange, being a statue, both me and Dad freaked out a bit and crossed the road and looked in the window of a gun shop.  We bought nothing at all.  There was a big church or something but Cecil was scared of the gargoyles so we couldn’t go in.

We then got back on the bus and went to the most amazing sounding place in the world (after the Isle of Lesbos)!  It was Lake Titisee! I prepared myself for wall to wall boobies.  And by prepare I mean got an instant erection.  Dad hadn’t said anything about coming to this place, I guess because if he had, he would have known how exited I would have been.

Spot the boobs

It took the longest 40 minutes of my life to get there.  But when we did, I jotted down holiday disappointment #40: There was not a single mention of boobs anywhere.  I was sickened.  If anything it should have been called Lake Disappointment and cuckoo clock.  Because there were about 10 shops and every single one of them sold cooku clocks.  And pretty much nothing else!  Dad wanted one and nearly bought one until he saw it cost over 1000 Euros!  For a clock!! Dad added it to his disappointment list.  We walked around every shop.  Until we came to the best shop I had seen so far.  It had an upstairs dedicated to Christmas decorations! It was a magical land.  I got so excited I even bought 3 things and took them to the till and paid for them myself.  And the person I bought them from was a woman.  At least I think it was a woman.  It was dead grumpy whatever it was.  How you could be grumpy working in a shop that not only sits on a beautiful lake side, in the heart of the Black Forest and also you’re working with Christmas things all day, I’ll never know.  Unless she was currently in an abusive relationship or something I guess.

Bland sausage

For lunch we had giant sausages, I assumed they would come in some kind of hot dog style bap/bun.  But no! The sausage was places next to 2 slices of dry thinly sliced brown bread, and we weren’t provided any butter.  It was a chore to eat.  Then when we went and paid the really grumpy woman ignored us for a while then took our money and didn’t even look at us.  She wouldn’t last long at Tesco!

We then started to walk back to the bus stop, but Cecil saw some weird booze in a shop so he went in.  There were a lot of open bottles on a counter top and several tiny glasses.  Cecil obviously thought you could taste the booze before you made a purchase so he started pouring himself a wee dram of some weird drink.  Then a man came running behind us shouting in German.  We didn’t know he was talking to us at first.  Then he grabbed Cecil by the shoulder.  Dad jumped and knocked a big bottle of something on the floor.  It smashed.  The German man violently pointed at a sign on the wall saying something about it not being self-service.  Dad made some gesture as if to say “I don’t understand” and he walked off.  I looked at the angry German man, who was just stood there looking stunned.  And I walked off.  The German man shouted something at us while we were walking but we didn’t care, we would never be back here again!

Cecil gave a wry smile, and said “I read the sign, I just didn’t think they would dare tell me not to drink, so I dropped the bottle on purpose” the naughty old scamp!
Watch the video of it here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kDUWV44__1Q

We got back on the bus and drove back to the hotel, on the way back the driver thought it would be high-larious to play a cd of a Scottish radio person doing phone pranks on people.  The biddies thought it was great fun.  But it was just an hour of Scottish people very angrily screaming at a man pretending to be someone demanding money or something who then said he was from the radio so the Scottish people then laughed.  I did not laugh!

We finally made it back to the hotel and had 20 minutes to get ready before the evenings meal.  We rushed and got ready.  And by got ready I mean Dad changed all his clothes, while I sat on my bed and ate a giant pretzel.  Then we went to tea.  The soup today was string, green and water.  I kid you not!  Cecil says it was probably celery, herbs and cream.  I had one spoonful just in case the pretty waitress was looking.  She didn’t so I spat it out into my napkin.  I then put the napkin in my pocket.  It soaked into my trousers almost instantly!

Then we waited.  We waited and waited.  We had sat down to eat the soup at 6:33pm.  Out next course wasn’t delivered till 7:29pm. The main course was semi raw pork, round potato things and a big pile of veg.  I left 80% of it.  The meat scared me, I have never seen pork that isn’t dry and like cardboard so I was scared of it.

Then we waited, our pudding was served at 8:19pm.  Dad was livid.  He hates waiting for food and to keep him hanging round for nearly 2 hours was almost enough to make him complain. He didn’t (apart from to me, almost constantly) but he said he would if it happened again tomorrow!

Then we had pudding, on the menu it was “Vanilla ice cream desert pudding” when it finally arrived, it was yoghurt with 3 small round dark berries in, I don’t know what.  Purple berries I guess.  I gave it to Dad.  He finished it in about 40 seconds; it was the smallest bowl you have ever seen.  Think of two egg cups combined to make one small bowl and you’re there.  Maybe, if you’re imagining the exact thing that we had our puddings served in.  Dad slammed down the bowl and got up and walked back to the room without thanking the waitress.  I tried to smile at her but only looked at my feet and mumbled something so inaudible I couldn’t even hear it.

We both sat writing our diaries now.  Well Dad wrote his usual one line which is “If I don’t find the key this will have been a giant waste of money and effort.  I hate Germany.  I love you Margaret”.

He’s been a right grumpy sod.  I don’t know where we’re going tomorrow or what we’re doing, Bigglesworth tells us nothing.  I think he said about 9 words today, which were “be back on the bus by 8:30am please, thank you” though I suppose he did say “be back on the bus by 4 o’clock please” so there is some variation there.

German Holiday Part 2

24th September

Watch the days events here

What a horrendous 4 hours it had been.  It is now 5:54 am.  Dad woke up about 4 minutes after I finished writing this diary, he stood in the middle of the room swaying, I thought he was asleep.  He was not.  He turned round to me, shouted at me to turn my light on, so I did.  He was green!  He rushed in the bath room and sprayed forth a volume of vomit the likes of which I had never seen.  He hadn’t shut the door so I saw and heard the whole thing.  When he had finished being sick (luckily all in the bowl of the toilet) he came and stood in the middle of the room, just looking at me.  “Oh Paul, I’m going to have a shocking night, I just know it”.  We had gone from the relative calm of the Humber estuary to the north sea and the waters were rough. Very rough.  Up and down, side to side and other combinations of movements.  Cecil was running to the toilet every 15 – 20 minutes.  To my surprise I didn’t feel in the least bit sick, but every time Dad retched I had to jam my fingers in my ears and wriggle them about so I couldn’t to hear him, but that didn’t really work.  He had a travel sickness tablet at about 4 am and felt ok and got to sleep.  Unlike me!  The sea was still so rough I felt like I might be thrown from the bunk at any moment.

I also feared the ferry would tip over in a Poseidon adventure style.  I have been mapping out the ships ceilings in my mind and I think I could get out.  Maybe.

This may be one of the most ‘on edge’ nights sleep I have ever had.  Literally with the pathetic width of this bed.

9:47pm

Well we didn’t drown or die of vomit.  I got about an hours sleep in total. And I had a splitting head ache all day.  We got up at 7am (6am English time) and staggered to the restaurant for breakfast.  Though I wasn’t really hungry for once.  Dad was absolutely starving and ready for a meal.  The boat had gone into calmer waters and was smoothly sailing along.  I could only manage 20 slices of salami and that cheese with the holes in.

Our coach driver hadn’t told us anything about what we do about getting back on the coach when the ferry reaches the port so we bumbled around confused, frightened and nauseous.  As it turned out everything was announced by a robot voiced woman and we just followed the crowds.  Though at one point Cecil walked off ahead and people started following him and he was going the wrong way.  But how was he meant to know, there were no signs!

Eventually we got back on the coach and set off at 9:30am.  Nothing happened for 6 hours!  Then we stopped at a service station in Luxemburg.  Everyone who smoked rushed inside and we followed out of curiosity.  In the shop were buckets of tobacco.  You could buy actual buckets of the stuff.  Unbelievable!  But also there was the biggest jars of Nutella I had ever seen, they cost nearly 30 Euros.  They were as big as my head!  I really wanted one but Dad said we couldn’t afford it.  So we just bought some smaller exotic looking snacks, such as chocolate covered waffles, some Milka thing with vanilla centers in, various crisps and mini salami type snacks.

Then we were on the coach.

Nothing happened until 6:12pm.  And I’m still shaken by it now!

Our coach driver (Bigglesworth, yes that’s his name, he is very posh) has never done this coach tour and he didn’t know where the hotel was, so he was blindly following the sat navs directions to the letter.  This would nearly cost us our lives!

We got near to where the hotel was, so the driver turned up this country road which wound up the side of a mountain. Everything was going well for 20 minutes or so, when the road ran out of tarmac and became a gravel track.  That was the first hint that we should have turned back.  But Bigglesworth pushed on.  The track was about 1 foot wider than the coach, to one side was a steep bank leading up the mountain covered in trees, and to the right was a very steep drop down the mountain, with no trees in the way to catch us should the coach fall.  Then some idiot shouted “oh God that’s one steep drop, are you sure this is the right way?”.  This must have thrown Bigglesworth because he swerved and the whole bus tipped over.  It had fallen into a ditch on the other side of the track, away from the shear drop, leaning towards the mountain side, but now we were stuck in mud.  If I had to guess an angle the bus had tipped over to I would say it was now at about 30 degrees.  People, mostly the old ladies, started screaming, though if the bus had tipped over it would have fallen against the trees and no one would have died.   Bigglesworth did something with the gears and eventually got us free from the ditch.  A big cheer went up, but there was no way to turn round so we had to press on up the mountain.  After a while (and several close calls due to shear drops and bad road surfaces) an old woman screamed at Bigglesworth to let her off.  She had a mini freak out and he asked everyone to leave the bus.  Some of the old chaps directed him and the coach when he reached a field and he managed to turn round.

The ditch the coach fell into

Cecil had gone as white as a sheet and silent.  Once he was off the bus he explained that he could see just how close to the edge we were (he was sat next to the window).  Dad refused to get back on the bus as did several other biddies, so we had to hike down the damn mountain!  It took us an hour, Cecil’s ankle started playing up so I had to find him a stick to rest on.  Some of the other biddies started singing hiking songs.  Dad joined in.  I felt embarrassed.

Eventually we got down the mountain and the bus was waiting for us.  We got on and were met with foul looks from those who had dare stay on the coach.  Sod them all the stupid silly old bastards, I hate them all!

After another hour (Bigglesworth really hasn’t a clue) we made it to the hotel.  Dad went and sat on a bench while I had to go get the suit cases.  While I was stood waiting to get ours, a moronic blimp of an old man knocked over a rubbish bin at me (he bumped into it with his fat arse).  The top was full of cigarette butts and water, so it all splashed over me.  It stank of rancid water (egg) and rancid cigs.  He didn’t even say sorry, or look round and see what he had done.

I dragged the bags to our room which was of course on the very top floor (third) and looked out over nothing but a tree and another tree.  There was also a massive spider in the shower which I gave a powerful wash.

Then it was half 7.30pm and time for tea.  By this point we didn’t know if we were coming or going.  We staggered into the restaurant and had to sit on a table for 6.  I waited for the horrors of other old biddies joining us.  I hate people at the best of times and this was one of the worse days I had had in quite some time.  So the thought of having to make small talk with 4 old strangers was deeply unpleasant.  So I sat there with a foul look on my fat face. Dad wasn’t talking, I think he was drained both physically and emotionally.

That’s when we finally caught a break, the first of the holiday.  All the stupid old bastards buggered off and no one sat with us! It was the happiest meal! I have never had a better meal in a foreign country.  No small talk, we just sat there eating the salty meats.  God knows what it was; it was slightly pink meat in bread crumbs with salty chips.  Though pudding was some fruit in jelly so I gave that to Cecil.

Both me and Dad are now sat on our beds writing our diaries.  Though Dad had to stop because he said he felt like he was still at sea, as soon as he said it I also felt like I was bobbing up and down.

I’ve just had a peek at Dad’s diary, it just reads “god, Germany hates me.  I wish I was back in Blighty.  Margaret, I love you” oh how touching!

Our room is quite nice, but compact.  There are 2 separate single beds but they have very thin duvets and the weirdest pillows I have ever experienced in my existence. They are about a meter square, but filled with feathers.  Your head just sinks in them, I had to fold mine in three and it still went weird.  The bathroom and toilet are all in one, there is no shower cubicle it’s a ‘wet room’ as Dad keeps calling it, “I’m just popping into the wet room to do a poopsicle” he keeps saying.  What this means basically is that the floor of the room is all tiles and almost always wet and cold.  I’ve gone through 3 pairs of socks (Dad’s socks) going in and out of there.

There is a tiny TV in the room, it gets German TV obviously and also Sky News, though Dad has forbidden me from watching the news because he doesn’t want to think about England while he is away.  There is also a hair dryer.  I had to dry Dad’s socks with it, it was quite powerful!

We don’t know where were going tomorrow, Bigglesworth hardly speaks, I don’t know when we go to Strasbourg.  We have never had so little information from a driver.  Normally you can’t shut them up. This holiday feels like it’s going to be very different, and mostly so far it’s tried to kill us thrice.  That is if you can die from sea sickness or missing a train!

What next?!

 

German Holiday Part 1

23rd September

I woke up by sliding off the bed at about half past 4 in the morning.  Cecil was oblivious to my moans and cries for help.  I wasn’t hurt but I was very confused.  For several seconds I didn’t know where I was or what had happened.  I sorted myself out, climbed into my bed and just to spite Cecil I shouted “all hands to battle stations!”  He shot up and ran right into the wardrobe.  He staggered back to bed and never mentioned it throughout the day.

I managed to sleep in till half past 11.  We were due to get the train to Hull at ten to two.  Dad shouted me out of bed, mostly because I hadn’t done anypacking and he also wanted to know what I wanted in my sandwiches.  I chose ham, cheese, another kind of cheese and salami.  And another thinner kind of ham.

By half past one me and dad were all set to go.  Mum refused to see us off because she was annoyed that she wasn’t going now, but it’s her own fault, she could have come, she just had to say!  We set off with 20 minutes to spare, which is good because

A) we were walking to the station and

B) dads bags weighed a ton.  We made it to the station with 8 minutes to spare, which we were both very pleased with.  Then came the announcement “The 13:51 train to Hull has been cancelled”.  A look of horror and disbelief shot over dads face.  He started crying openly.  He went to ask the station train man if they would be putting a bus or another train on, but he just sneered at dad and said ‘no’.

Father was mortified; I was annoyed I wouldn’t get to sample the various continental meats and cheeses.  Then a look came across dads face, a look of resolution and defiance.  He marched back up to the train man and demanded they put on a taxi for us.  The train man told him to ‘sod off’.  Dad got angry and demanded to speak to his manager. He claimed he was the manager.  Dad stormed off.

Quick as a flash I got on the phone to Len Shankroids, he owns a converted ice cream van which is now converted into a mini bus.  One teary phone call later and he was on his way to pick us up.

We were in Hull by half past 3.  Thank you Len, you’re a starman!

Then we waited for 30 minutes on the cold and windy bus concourse.  The bus came at exactly 4 PM.  The driver let everyone off for a wee.  It was another sea of grey hairs, wrinkly faces and unpleasant old cleavages.  We went and sat in our seats while everyone was away.  When the biddys came back on they all looked at me with a look as if to say “what is this young man doing on our biddy bus, this is for the over 60’s only.  You make me sick young man” I gave them a look which tried to say “I’m sorry I’m young, I’m only on here so me and my father can go to Germany to follow up a lead on a [SPOILER REMOVED] which might contain the riddles of the universe, don’t hate my youth” but I think I just looked constipated.

We got to the ferry terminal at about 5, and unlike the lax security down in Dover, there were random suitcase searches and bags x-rayed.  And I’m excited to say my bag was x-rayed and I was frisked.  Sadly not by the woman but by the man, luckily he didn’t try to check my member for hidden MI5 documents or knock off DVDs.  I saw the x-ray of my bag, it looked interesting, it was all red and yellow, not like a bone x-ray, though Teddy Watkins was clearly visible, and the man smirked at me for having a teddy on holiday.

We eventually got on the ferry and it took an age to actually set off.  But when it did it was bloody freezing because we were filming the outside for mum, so we came inside and had our free (eat as much as you want) meal. I had

•           Soup, cream of chicken (3 bowls)

•           Pork ribs (about 15)

•           Poppadums’ (5)

•           More poppadums’ (7)

•           Roast potato (too many to count)

•           1 roast carrot (never again)

•           Pots of cinder toffee ice cream (4)

•           Pots of chocolate ice cream (2)

•           A plate with crackers, cheese, salami, pepperoni and hams (a big plate x 3)

Then to finish it off I got a few hot chocolates from the free dispensing machine.  I want to live here!

Then we went and sat in a bar for about 3 minutes until we got intimidated by some shaven headed men talking racistly.

We’re in the cabin now.  Its 21:18.  Dad refused to take the top bunk so I am sleeping high up in the highest bunk I have ever slept in.  I’m terrified.  There is no guard rail to stop me falling out; if I do I will smash my fragile head on a tiny table.  And the boat is rocking quite badly.  Dads asleep and mumbling about torpedoes or something.  I’m going to try and get some sleep now.

I fear for my body.