Tag: radiothax

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 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?!