I’M THINKING ABOUT TAKING A HOLIDAY # 5

 

I’m thinking about taking a holiday

But I don’t know where to go

What if I end up in Capable

I find that that’s often where I go

 

SOMEWHERE UNPRONOUNCEABLE # 2

 

I went on holiday to somewhere unpronounceable

Who have a novel approach to automation

You are not permitted to own a motor car

Unless it is Pink, making them a Pink Car-nation

I’M THINKING ABOUT TAKING A HOLIDAY # 2

 

I’m thinking about taking a holiday

But I don’t know where to go

I would like to go to Conclusions

But you have to jump there, so

As I can’t do much physical activity

I would have to reluctantly say no

I’M THINKING ABOUT TAKING A HOLIDAY # 3

 

I’m thinking about taking a holiday

But I don’t know where to go

I will probably be in Doubt

It’s not for frequent flyers though

Its destination I’m unsure of

In fact I’m not sure I want to go

SOMEWHERE UNPRONOUNCEABLE # 1

 

I went on holiday to somewhere unpronounceable

Who have a novel approach to automation

You are not permitted to own a motor car

Unless it is Red, making them a Red Car-nation

I’M THINKING ABOUT TAKING A HOLIDAY # 1

 

I’m thinking about taking a holiday

But I don’t know where to go

However, I may end up in Sane

How I get there, I don’t know

As they don't have an airport

You can be driven there though

BOWLED A BMW

 

I like to take driving holidays abroad

Last year it was Belgium and the lowlands

But the year I went down to Berlin

Wasn’t anywhere as good as Holland

The problem with driving German cars

Is they keep trying to head for Poland

THE ABERGELE ROADS

At dusk we walk slowly by the shoreline

The waves lapping at the sand break gently

While children play among the craggy rock pools

Or happily skimming stones on the sea

Dogs chase balls as we stand to consider,

The tide is it in, or out, no matter

The setting sun lights up the western sky

Illuminating stray clouds with gold strands

Then surrounding them with bright bursting rays

This sunburst silhouettes the beachcombers

Then blinds us all as it hits the wet sand

As quickly as it burst on us it was gone

Until we are blinded by the next one

Before the horizon swallows the sun

SUMMER OF EIGHTY EIGHT

 

The summer of eighty-eight

What a holiday it was

Me, tottering Bob and Metaxa Mary

On the Greek island of Andros

In the chain of islands

Known as the Cyclades

We would sit on the beach

Or some beach front café

Like the medusa or the koala

Watching the semi naked femmes

And not just that but fit too

Apart from Mary

She was more interested in the Geraniums

Which grew seven feet high

We enjoyed the Greek cuisine

Such as it was

Stuffed vine leaves, Calamari

And Mousakka mainly

Not forgetting

Greek salad and Feta cheese

Washed down with cheap booze

And plenty of it

Everything was cheap on the island

Not just cheap fags and booze

An old man called Stavros

His skin the color of leather

Hand made me a pair of sandals

For under five pounds

Our favorite haunt was the medusa

Owned and run by Pandelis

And his accommodating daughter Cath

Although we had a brandy or two

At the Paradise bar most nights

Just as a night cap

But it wasn’t the location, Or cheap booze

The herb fragranced breeze

Warm sunshine, Semi naked women

Or accommodating waitresses

That made it a great holiday

It was the people

The warm friendly locals

Fellow Brits on tour

And of course, Bob and Mary

What a holiday it was

FUN IN THE SUN

 

Why do 18-30 girls have more fun?

While they’re on the coast of the sun

They don’t do things by the letter

Because they don't know any better

OPEN TOUR

 

Why do they call it

The tourist season

If shooting at them

Is not allowed then

DOWN ON THE FARM

 

I stayed on my uncle’s farm for a fortnight’s holiday

And it was so wild and windy on one particular day

One chicken laid the same egg four times that day

WHAT A WEEK

 

We went to the lakes

For a week’s holiday

It only rained twice

While we were away

Once for six days

And once for a day

BATHTIME

I checked into a modest hotel for the night

It wasn’t very grand, but the price was right

In itself it was a pleasant enough little room

The only drawback being a shared bathroom

I walked half-naked into the shared facility

To find standing there a very attractive filly

I said this bath is mine without any preamble

She claimed it as hers in a rant and ramble

I corrected her and reiterated “this is my bath”

Her response to this was a hysterical laugh

As we continued arguing over its ownership

The bath filled and the lady started to strip

I followed suit until we stood naked together

And then we stood there admiring each other

“You have a figure that would raise the dead”

“And you have a very nice physique” she said

After a brief time, I thought I’d try my luck 

“You really are very lovely do you fuck”?

She smiled and said yes and gave a little laugh

“Wow that’s great now fuck off this is my bath”

THE NORTHEY ISLAND INCIDENT

It was the summer of seventy-one, or was it seventy-two? “Chirpy, chirpy, cheap, cheap,” was top of the pops at the time; no matter it was one or the other.

Which ever it was it was when the 6^th Stevenage Scout Troup set off in a beat up white Ford Transit heading for the wilds of Essex.

We where camping for two weeks in a farmer’s field on Northey island in the Blackwater estuary close to the town of Maldon.

It was a time when life still held infinite possibilities for our motley crew, Del, the Lawther brothers, Big Pete, Tiny Tears and a host of others whose names have been lost in the mists of my mind.

We were a mixed bunch, and we did all the normal scouty type stuff you know digging latrines and that kind of thing.

We had to make our own rudimentary cooker and each patrol took turns to be on kitchen duty, which included cooking and scrubbing the burnt black saucepans.

One bright spark in our patrol had the idea that if you mixed washing up liquid and washing powder into a paste and spread liberally onto the base of the saucepans it made then easier to clean afterwards. What a load of old tosh what it actually did was make the job twice as difficult as you had to chisel off the burnt remains of the washing paste as well as the normal blackness.

We went off to Southend-on-Sea one day all of us pilling into the back of the transit and sitting on wooden benches like the forms you get in school gyms. Not a seatbelt in sight and not even the benches were secured. No one with half a brain would dream of doing that today but at the time it seemed quite natural, and we didn’t think twice about it.

We were a very unsophisticated bunch of lads, so we had a great time “kiss me quick” hats, amusement arcades and of course the Kursaal with the Rotor and the Crazy Mouse, very tame compared to today but we loved it.

In exchange for the farmer allowing us to camp in his field, which as I said was on an island, required us to plant rice grass in the mud banks around the island.

The Blackwater estuary was tidal water and when the tide was out there was just a great expanse of mud between the island and the mainland save for a narrow channel.

Unfortunately for the farmer every time the tide went out it was taking some of his island with it, hence the rice grass.

The idea being that the grass would bind the mud together and therefore prevent the island being slowly taken out to sea.

For our part we had to wade out into the mud at low tide up to our knees and plant the afore mentioned grass.

Of course, the only problem with this plan was that when you put a group of under sixteen’s up to their knees in mud the inevitable outcome is a mud fight.

At the end of the fight, we were, without exception, all covered from head to toe in thick black slimy mud, it was fantastic.

Then we finished the task of planting the grass and waded back to shore looking like a group of extras from “swamp thing”.

We then had the problem of getting clean now we only had two options the first one being to wait for the tide to come back in by which time the mud would have set.

The second option was to use water from the standpipe in the corner of the field by the gate, which was used to water the animals.

This we did to great effect taking it in turns to use a bucket filled from the tap and dousing our selves down.

I was the last one to go and after I had removed my trunks, I stood tipping buckets of water over my head.

Then as I was emptying the final bucket over me and with my hands still above my head, I heard the sound of a vehicle and as I turned around to investigate, I saw a minibus full of girl guides drive slowly past the gate.

I had no time to cover my embarrassment or anything else for that matter so I did the only thing a boy scout could do under the circumstances, which was to drop the bucket and give the scout salute. 

Incidentally, I was not responsible for melting “Tiny Tears” plimsolls on the stovetop. I know I laughed at the time and it was very funny to see the two red rubber footprints on the hot plate, but it was not me.

THE LEGOLAND EXPERIENCE

 

It was not long after it opened, 1998 if memory serves, that we visited Legoland in Windsor on a very hot day in August.

When I say we I am of course referring to myself, my wife Tina and our three sons, Ben 5, Josh 3 and Sam aged 2.

As a family trip to any theme park is an expensive one, we had exchanged some of our Sainsbury reward vouchers for Air miles vouchers we could be used to visit Legoland.

When we arrived, we mistakenly went to the advanced ticket sales window believing that having converted our vouchers we had come to the correct place, this was indeed a mistake and we received a very surly response to our enquiry from the first member of staff we had met.

I am a firm believer that you never get a second chance to make a first impression and so that first meeting may have coloured our experience had it not been for the fact that she was one of the more accommodating examples.

After our exchange with miss surly we joined one of the many 50 metre long queue’s and remained there for half an hour shuffling slowly forward and eventually purchased our tickets from, as things turned out from the only pleasant member of staff we met all day. 

Having converted out vouchers into tickets we then approached the next obstacle, the turnstiles, my wife, with Sam in his buggy approached the gate marked pushchairs and I followed tickets in hand with Ben and Josh.

I was then stopped by another fine example of inadequate training and told that myself and two of my sons could not follow my wife through the pushchair gate because none of us were in a pushchair and must go through the turnstiles I asked the officious employee if he thought it was necessary and he told me he wasn’t his job to think.

We should have turned around then I should have read the signs.

 

The park was very busy once we had got in and we decided we would wait until after lunch before we tried to get the children on any rides, so we decided to view Mini World or Miniland I can’t remember which now and we slowly ambled, It was to busy even then to do anything but, towards the picnic area and we just about managed to find a seat for us all. 

After lunch we left the picnic area and we could not believe where all the people had come from, My Town was absolutely heaving with people.

We had met the Sort of concentration of people you would normally associate with a premier league Football match, or Wembley turning out and with three young children this made our progress very stressful indeed as we obviously were concerned for the safety of our children.  

We then decided, as much to get out of the throng as anything, to take the children on the Carousel.

After queuing for more than 30 minutes we were near the front of the queue, when on the last ride before our turn someone was sick, an adult, in one of the cars.

The operator then used the phone to call for some assistance and for someone to come and clear up the mess.

He went on to explain that the ride was closed until the mess had been dealt with, after 5 minutes someone arrived with a mop and bucket but instead of dealing with the problem she addressed the queue to say that the ride was closed until someone came to clear the mess, she was obviously only trained to carry the mop and bucket, not actually to use it, and we could wait until the ride reopened or go and queue for another attraction.

A lady in front of us asked if we could be issued with a ticket or a stamp to say we had already queued for over half an hour so if we did leave the queue we would not have to join the rear of the queue.

The employee looked puzzled for a moment and then just repeated her previous statement.

We left the queue. 

After this we decided we would not waste any more time queuing for rides we may not get on, instead we took the children to things like the Wild Woods which did not include ridiculous queuing.

We did however have to queue for 20 minutes to get ice creams at one of the very few vendors. 

When we decided we had finally had enough we joined the queue for the Funicular Railway which was fairly painless by Legoland standards and as it was the only ride, we actually got on it was the high point of the day for my eldest son Ben. 

As we made our way to the exit, we decided to buy the boys a present each from the shop, the shop was very busy as you would expect but we found what we wanted relatively quickly and went to pay.

And guess what another queue, there were only two people serving a Jekyll and Hyde combination one pleasant and well-mannered the other an ignorant moron.

As we only had to queue for 15 minutes this was a remarkable improvement and as we thought this was our last queue of the day, we were relatively content, but before the journey home we had to visit the toilets and to our complete disbelief another queue, but I have to say in all fairness that this was the only occasion during the day we did have to queue for the toilets. 

When we were in the park my wife Tina and I frequently commented that their were too many people in the park and when we reached the car park we could see why, not only was the car park full but cars were park end to end around the perimeter and a good distance along the access road.

This said to me that the primary concern of the park operators was to get as many people through the turnstiles as possible without any care or consideration for the paying guests actually getting any semblance of value for the money they have parted with. 

When we were sat in the car, queuing to get out the car park, I asked the children if they had enjoyed themselves, they said yes, they had but then as this was their first experience of theme parks they had no frame of reference to compare it to.

So, I asked them what they had enjoyed the most and Ben said the train, only I suspect because it was the only ride he had, Josh, my middle son said his favourite part was “Lunch”, which was the picnic we had brought with us. 

We were asked by friends who knew we were going to Legoland if we had enjoyed “The Legoland Experience” the reply was a resounding no we did not. 

One of the most frustrating parts of the day was the lack of sign boards indicating how long from that point you would expect to wait on all the rides we considered going on, other parks did it, why couldn’t they.?

Another was the “I don’t like my job and I'm going to let everyone know it” attitude of the park staff, not all of them I would have to say but the good ones were few and far between. 

I wrote a letter of complaint and although the respondent refused to accept any of my criticism’s we were issued complimentary tickets which we used on a damp and overcast day in October, and we had a fantastic time.

The park was virtually empty the staff outnumbered the guests, and we didn’t meet a surly member of staff all day.

Obviously, the staff didn’t enjoy the august heat and the attending crowds any more than we did.

LUSTFUL INTENT

 

It was a warm summer’s night in the 1974 and we were alone in a tent together when all at once the flaps flew open.

The tent flaps that is and not hers.

“What’s going on in here?” the voice said through the opening

I was lying under my sleeping bag and Marilyn was kneeling fully clothed, well almost, on an adjacent one.

The voice belonged to her father Ronald

“I might have known Cooper would be in his pit” he continued pompously

 

Her father Ronald was an Assistant Commissioner and we didn’t get on even before I started feeling up his daughter.

We were staying at the Lochearnhead Scout Station in Perth and Kinross.

It was once a working station before it fell foul of Dr Beeching and his cuts.

It was bought from British Railways soon after it closed, by the Hertfordshire Scouting association and was used as an activity centre for all levels of scouting in the county.

Which explains why I as a Venture Scout and Marilyn as a Cub Instructor were there.

At least it explains why we were in Lochearnhead, though not why we were alone together in a tent on a warm summer evening.

We had been seeing each other for about 3 months and we had reached the point where a kiss and a grope in the woods and a bit of fingering in the unisex toilets wasn’t enough for her and she wanted to go to the next level.

The reason we found ourselves in my tent was that Janice, the girl Marilyn shared with was entertaining a waiter from the local hotel in hers.

 

We had been planning the deed for about 3 days prior to that night as it was to be the first time for both of us.

But in the end as first times go it was pretty rubbish, in fact I’m not even sure it qualified as a first time.

As I managed to get myself into a condom but I wasn’t convinced I got into her before the incident came to a premature end.

Which is why she was almost fully dressed by the time Ronald arrived.

“Get back to your own tent young lady” he said

“You’re so embarrassing dad, Nothing happened” she responded

“I’ll deal with you later” Ronald said

“For God’s sake Dad, We didn’t do anything” Marilyn said

Which was true enough though it wasn’t for the want of trying

As they both walked off into the distance still arguing I thought she looked really horny in her uniform especially as she had her “Love is…” knickers stuffed in her uniform pocket.

 

Fortunately as we were both virgins and unlike the young of today we were incredibly naïve about sex, we were so much less aware back then.

Luckily Marilyn had no high expectations for the night, having no yardstick to measure it by.

So I got a second bite of the cherry so to speak which I took a couple of days later in the heathered hills of Glen Ogle and afterwards were left in no doubt whatsoever that we had had our first time.

 

The only downside was I got a tick bite on my arse for my trouble and guess who the duty first aider was.