Friday, 6 November 2015

Not A Beautiful Noise

Happy Friday one and all, and not before time.  I hope you've had a good week.

For us, it's been an expensive one.  Yesterday I booked tickets for us to return to CarFest North in July.  It wasn't the plan right up until the exact moment when tickets went on sale.  And then I cracked.  Still, bugger it - all for a good cause etc etc.  More on that another time.   

But we also booked our summer holiday.

For the past four years we've gone to a Holiday Village; Menorca twice, then Tenerife, then Turkey just a couple of months ago.  And each trip has been terrific.

But next year we're set for a change.

As before, it'll be kiddie-orientated with kids clubs, junior discos and all the rest.  Plus, we're going all-inclusive once again which means we'll not be hungry (or thirsty...MEH!!!!)

However, there is just the one minor problem.   Our destination is Albufeira in Portugal. And the last time Vanessa and I were there, we left one particular establishment in the back of a police car.

There were no kids around at that stage - we weren't even married - and were having a night on the tiles.   Which was ironic, because I ended up flat on my back on some very cold tiles, surrounded by glass.

We'd stopped off at a Neil Diamond tribute show and, as a self-confessed Neil Diamond fan, I was having a rather good time.  And yes, I'd had a few drinks but nothing too mad.  But my bladder was bursting.  So, during a bit of an instrumental break, I shot off to the gents to empty it.

Unfortunately, as I set foot on the wet floor destined for the urinal, I flew across the room straight into a huge wall mirror which shattered into a million pieces.

You could've heard the crash in Belfast.

The next thing I knew and ignoring my bleeding arm, two burly bouncers arrived to apprehend me.  The police were called and, shortly afterwards, an unamused Vanessa and I were led through a crowd of cheering Brits - who'd gathered outside - put into the back seat of a police car, and driven away.

To cut a long story short, our passport details were taken and we were eventually released back into the wild, pending further enquiries.  We were also warned to stay away from the scene of the "crime" for the remaining eight days of our trip whilst the bar owner decided if he would press charges.

We never saw him or the police officers again.  Thank ****.

Still, the opportunity to pop back in next summer to introduce the kids might prove too difficult to resist.  Actually, bugger it, we're doing it.

My seven years of bad luck must surely be behind me.