Sun tan - check, photos - check, happy memories - check.. Bugger, I'm back (Part 2)

Well hello again my dear readers,

So, now, where were we?

Ah yes, thats right, the first night. As you read last time, the Manchester flight got to Zante earlier than either the Bristol or Gatwick flights.

Right for this one I'm going to break the holiday down into a few categories. Mainly so this thing doesn't go forever and bore the arse of everyone. So lets start with:

The People

The group consisted of fifteen people in total. As I said, five were on the Manchester flight and I had a bit of a chat with them going from the airport to the hotel. That left ten who joined us throughout the evening. And I can say that they were all wonderful splendid people to be in holiday with.

Bar one.

Yes, there is always one isn't there dear reader.

The thing is, when you're on a solos holiday then you ain't going to know anything about the others in the group. And it is up to you to go and find out. You're in the same boat as everyone else and, unless you want to be back in your room by about ten in the evening you going to have to make a bit of an effort. There are even, if you think about it, a series of questions to get you started.

What's your name?
Where are you from?
What do you do?
Are you here for one week or two?
Have you been on a solo's holiday before? Which ones?

Get through that little lot and generally, as if by magic, you get to know the people. So thats how we all started out.

Bar one....

who made no effort what so ever. I don't know why, my little reader friends. Maybe he had something better to do. Not that the rest of us minded. We all just got on with it. His loss, not ours.

Food and Drink

The food in the hotel was basic. Like the rest of the hotel really. To be fair to them, there isn't alot they can really do about it though. It can't be easy coming up with a range of dishes that will be ok for multiple nationalities staying in their rooms that week. But what they had was ok. There was always the option of going to one of the nearby restaurants anyway. Which we did a couple of times during the week. The food at which was rather lovely. Though remind me not to have the garlic prawns. Well not without a bib or something first.

The drinks were great though. A pint of Mythos (really nice greek lager) was a very reasonable 2.50 euros. For some reason best known to the greeks a half pint was 2.30 euros. No, I don't know why either. Could possibly explain why the greek economy is knackered though. Either way, I might have drank a fair bit of it during the course of the week.

Also, at the pub which kind of became the group 'local', on a couple of nights shots were produced. Now, normally I don't like these things, but this one was different. Buggered if I can remember what it was called or what was in it but suffice to say, my dear readers, it was a bit good.

The hotel

As I have just said the hotel rooms were basic. But what else do you need? The bathroom was clean and the shower worked. The bed was comfortable and I had a great view. I've no idea if the tele in the room even worked let alone what channels it had on. But then who goes on holiday to a beautiful greek island and stays in the room and with the tv on.

The staff were polite and friendly even letting us take over the bar music system if we were the only ones in.

One rather curious thing was all the weddings that took place there. Now, my dear reader, I'm very much a stranger when it comes to getting married but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to get hitched when there are a load of people sunbathing on the beach next to you. Still, it provide a moment of amusement when one day, with a fair few of the group down on the beach, a horse and cart came trotting over the sand and passed right by us with the bride and groom who, rather than enjoying their happy moment, were hanging on for dear life in the posh seats in the rather elegant cart and looking very uncomfortable.

----


So there you have it. I could go a bit more but to go into too much detail would be to take away some of the magic of what was a wonderful week.

But wait, I hear you cry....

Col, what we really want to know is....

Did you find your 'impossible' girl with whom you were going to go more exciting adventures through time and space?

Well, my dear reader friends, the answer to that is no.

I don't think.

But you never know. We have said that we'll keep in touch so maybe fate is taking a rather scenic route with me.

ta ta for now

Sun tan - check, photos - check, happy memories - check.. Bugger, I'm back (Part 1)

Well hello my dear readers,

Did you miss me while I was away? You can tell me. I know you did really.

So where will I start in recounting this tale of dashing heroes, beautiful heroines, dastardly villians, romance, treachery and noble sacrifice in the face of true evil?

Oh hang on...

No, sorry, thats a story. I'll telling you about my holiday aren't I?

So we will begin, as is traditional, at the beginning.

And Manchester Airport at around four in the morning. Which I'm sure you'll agree, dear reader, is far too early to be doing anything other than sleeping let alone getting through the check in desk at terminal two. There was already a queue which I joined the back of. It was then I spied something to chill the heart of many a traveller on a cold, dark, wet winters night. A group of lads with the words 'Zante 13' emblazened on the front of their t-shirts and various nicknames on the back. Now, my dear reader, I'm a quiet, sensitive soul (SHUT IT!) so my first reaction was, I'm sure you'll agree, quite understandable.
 It was:
"Oh shit, I hope they don't end up sitting anywhere near me."

So, anyway, the queue made its merry way forward and whilest there, I tried a little furtive scanning of the crowd to try and see if there were any more single people around. I couldn't see any but as it turns out there were four more people flying from Manchester. So on the queue went with me minding my own business, stoically ignoring the mocking call of the airline rep and her cruel taunts of the availability of extra leg room seats which were now being offered at two for the price of one. It's getting to something when even the airline is taking the piss out of your single status.

Eventually I managed to get through check in, security (with no hassles), and was in the departure area where it was time for breakfast.

*memo to Burger King*
Yes, I know what the sign said but, when you need an electron microscope to see them, don't you think you're taking the 'mini-pancake' thing a tad far?

And then it came time to board and be on our way.

Or so we all thought.

After an almost completely unintelligible message over the plane's intercom, we sat there for about forty five minutes. And it was during this time that one of the 'Zante 13' massive decided to fall ill. Yes dear reader, damned inconsiderate of him I know. Eventually he was removed from the aircraft, his luggage (as well as that of one of his friends who volunteered to stay with him) soon followed and after a two hour delay we were away for what, after that slight excitement, turned out to be a very uneventful flight.

Three and a bit hours later we landed safely on the tarmac at the airport to the island of Zante. Or Zakynthos depending on what you call it. Once the plane had taxied to its final position we all disembarked into what we thought would be blazing hot sun.

Except we didn't. I mean we all got off the plane. And it was hot. But, thanks to a nice breeze, it wasn't stop you in your tracks hot like some holidays I have been on. At this point I didn't even take my cardigan off. Yes, dear readers, I was wearing a cardigan. Well down wiv da kidz me I'll tell you. We then got on the little bus that takes you from the plane to the arrivals area. A journey which, in this case, took all of a minute.

Then, my dear reader, came a moment which you may decide is pure fantasy, but which I can assure you was 100% true. I quickly made my way through passport check and headed towards baggage...

To find...

My case was already on the carousel waiting to be picked up. Seriously, my dear reader, as I walked up to the carousel I saw it making its way towards me. Now how cool is that?! So without futher ado, I grabbed the case and headed for the exit and started looking for the pick up. Which again I did almost straight away. I was, I think, second to make it though. The others swiftly followed me and we were led onto the minibus which was to take us to the hotel. The five of us then introduced ourselves and started chatting away during the twenty or so minutes the journey took. At which point I began to think that, as these four all seemed to be rather nice people, this was going to be a rather good week.

We were then at the hotel where I was re-aquainted with the rep (by the name of Andy) who I had originally met in Rhodes. Then we got our room keys, shown to our rooms by Andy (four of the rooms, including mine, were next to each other) and left to unpack. This done, I took off my cardigan, put on some shorts, some sun block and headed out to explore the bar and beach area. I had only just reached the bar when I bumped into Andy again so we sat and had a beer whilst having a nice catch up chat.

A quick walk round the beach area where I had another nice chat to the two lovely ladies in the Manchester part of the crew, Vicki and Amanda, and then back to the hotel room for a wee kip. Then came another important step in the weeks holiday. Something everyone goes through at some point. Seeing if the shower worked (which it thankfully did). After that it was then time for dinner...

Coming up in part 2:
What happened when the Bristol and Gatwick people arrived.
The local pubs and bars

And, the question you all want to know (well if you've read the previous entry)

Did I find my 'impossible girl'?

Tune in next time to find out

Ta ta for now

Passport - check, books - check, sunscreen - check. I'm ready

Hello my lovely readers,

Where does the time go eh? Where? It has been too long since I last posted and I know you've been missing me, but worry no longer, because I'M BACK!

*cue wild cheers from the audience*

Thank you, thank you, alright settle down. Especially you lot at the back.

Right, I hear you cry, so what is this one going to be about then?

Well I'm going on holiday tomorrow. Yay!
Yes, my dear reader, I shall be once again jetting off to foreign climes for a week of sun, sea, sand and relaxation. In Zante. It will be tough, so very tough, but I'll will give  'enjoying myself even if I won't have the slightest idea who I'll be holidaying with' my best shot.

Yes, you read that last bit right. I don't know who will be accompanying me on this week.

*hushed mummuring from the crowd*

Because it's a Solos holiday and what basically happens is that a load of single people go on holiday and hope to hell there is at least one other person in the group they can talk to. I mean there is a forum you can use to see who is going, but it's not the same thing is it?

Plus this isn't the first time I've been on a Solos trip. Oh no, my dear reader, this will be my sixth vacation with them. So far there have been no problems so I should be fine. I've got my kindle (and a couple of books in case something happens to said kindle), ipod and there are plenty of bars. But, as everyone will be there to have a good time, I'm sure it will be great.

Now I know what you're thinking: Holiday romances.
Well, we'll see. I've seen them happen. I've got friendly with a couple of ladies in the past (keep it clean, you lot at the back)
Will this be the year? Will there be a lady on the Manchester flight that is destined to be mine? (I'm hoping for the Manchester flight because, lets face it, the London flight makes things more complicated). Will I meet my 'impossible' girl who will want to come and have adventures through time and space with me? (You can make up your own jokes about sonic screwdrivers, this is a family show).

Or will they hear the words "I like Doctor Who" and run like hell?

Nobody knows. Not even me. Well alright, The Doctor might know but I haven't seen the TARDIS round these here parts so I guess he ain't telling.

So for now, I'll just have to go to Manchester airport in the small hours of Sunday morning, get through security and see what happens.

So, I'll leave you now. Lets face it, this packing ain't going to do itself. But I shall return, my dear reader, yes I shall return with the second part of this blog and tell you all about it.

Ta ta for now.

Giving Chester a boost (hopefully!)

Well hello my lovely little readers.

Yes I'm back to bring you more joy and happiness from within the black and souless void that is the internet.

So what's been happening I hear you cry.

I'm helping to bring a bit of culture to the streets of Chester. Well when I say I'm helping I mean got volunteered to help. And when I say I'm helping I mean I'm writing micro-plays.

Yes, in the next couple of weeks I shall be straining every creative sinew to create some pieces that will be performed in a bar somewhere in Chester. And not just one either. No no no... that would be too easy. No, my friend, I'm doing a two or three of these buggers. Now I've got ideas. Slowly forming in my mind.

But why am I doing this?

Chester needs a cultural boost. A bit of a shot in the arm. To let it know that someone still wants these things to happen.

It will be small. It will be low-key. But who knows where it will go from here. After all, from small acorns grow great oaks.

We can but try.

ta ta for now

Is it November yet?

Well hello my lovely readers.

Guess you've been wondering where I have been. I mean, doesn't time fly when you're having fun?

Well no not really. But it has been a couple of weeks so what have I been doing?

In short, my dear reader, I've been doing sod all except the usual routine mundane things in life like working, sleeping, eating, trying to talk to girls etc etc etc.

And of course one of those routine things is watching the odd tv show. Do you often wonder how much of an impact the television has on our lives. I mean, I don't watch much and I'm very selective about the type of shows that I do follow. I rarely watch ITV on a Saturday night for example. Its just not my cup of tea.

As you may know though, a show that is very much my cup of tea is Doctor Who and the season finale was on last night. So at seven pm I was there as the latest adventure of the time travelling madman in the blue box began to unfold. The last adventure before November. Which for those that don't know is a very special occasion as it's the 50th anniversary of when the show first started. And, to be honest dear reader, I sat down last night with a small amount of trepidation.

But why I hear you ask.

Well this run of 8 episodes which have made this second half of series 7 of new Doctor Who (its been spilt into two halves you see. The first half ended the departure of Amy Pond *sniff*) has had something missing. It has not been firing on all cylinders. The writing hasn't quite been as top notch as it was before Christmas. I didn't quite believe the relationship between The Doctor and Clara as much as that of The Doctor and Amy (and Rory).

And last nights episode secrets were to be revealed. Important secrets.  It was going to be a big episode. It had to be done right.

And it was.

It was absolutely, incredibly, jaw droppingly excellent. I'm not going to give anything away (spoilers!) but it paid off the mystery of Clara (the impossible girl) brilliantly and set up something that left me and every other Doctor Who fan wishing it was November NOW.

But we'll just have to wait patiently as the wheel of time turns slowly onward and the future becomes the present and then becomes the past.

But...

Is it November yet?

Ta ta for now.

3rd entry in Room 101

Well hello my dear readers.

And welcome back to my little corner of the universe. You have come back right? Right?

Hello, Hello?!
Oh there you are. Good. Thought you had wandered off for a minute.

So, I here you ask, what is next to be put into room 101 and oblivion? What is going to join the first two entries? What ranks alongside text speak and Valentine's day as being so awful that it deserves to be obliterated from the face of this earth?

Well it's this:

Action Figures

Now don't get me wrong. I like the show Doctor Who as you well know. I like a lot of science fiction shows. But the action figures...WHY?

Now you may of heard of a shop called Forbidden Planet. And if you have ever been to the Manchester outlet you will have seen that the place is wall to wall full of these plastic abominations. I mean, seriously, what are you supposed to do with them?
And not just Doctor Who either. No sir. We're talking Star Trek, Star Wars, Stargate and probably a few other things with the word 'Star' in the title. I mean, am I supposed to display in my bedroom or something. Is it a way of saying 'yes i love this show and, to demonstrate my love for the show, I'm going to have a shelf full of six inch long pieces of plastic crap that may or may not look like the character they are supposed to represent'? And I'm not saying that all the various mechandise is crap. I mean, ok, most of it is but there are exceptions. The books are reasonable. They tend to be what I call 'candy floss books' in that you can read them but don't read too many of they will rot your mind.I like the audio cds for the shows (especially the Big Finish Doctor Who releases).

But the figures...

I just don't get it.

So they are going in to Room 101!
(Hey, its my blog, so my rules)

Secrets - A flash fiction piece

Well hello to you my lovely readers.

And here we are again. I was going to say on a wonderfully sunny Sunday afternoon. Except it started raining a little time ago so it's now a wet Sunday afternoon. Still, you can't have everything

So I guess you've logged on to see what utter drivel I've come up with this time haven't you. Well, you won't be disappointed.

Right then. Most Friday's I, along with a couple of writer friends, go to  a random word generator website. The word we are each then given forms the basis of a story we then go away and write if we get inspired or, in reality, have the time to do. This Friday the word I got was:

Fountain.

As you will see what came out has very little to do with a fountain. Although it does in a way I suppose. I use these exercises as a way of experimenting with different styles and ways of writing. Some work, some don't. I did consider adding a last line but after reading this through thought better of it. I think the ending works as it is.

Ta ta for now

***

Secrets

An old man sits beneath an oak tree, the breeze gently cooling his face in the hot sun. He watches the people who have come from miles around just to view the statue of the princess. They come from the various kingdoms of the land and from far across the seas just for one glimpse of the fragile perfection. Some will stare for hours at the delicate carvings debating the pose and expression on her face. She is wistful they would say. She is dreaming some say, others that she is sad. Some just want to see and admire the exquisite workmanship, the subtle lines and curves of her face and hair cascading over her shoulders. Some even throw coins into the ice cool, clear waters of the surrounding fountain. Such a treasure, they say, could only have been sculpted from true love. Hence it must bring good fortune and luck to those that make a wish to it.  Standing in the immaculate rose gardens in the old king’s palace, it stands as a tribute. Though the king is no longer there, the palace is kept in all its splendour for the visitors who visit daily to marvel at the wealth and magnificent opulence. But it is the statue and the fountain surrounding it that they will remember when they leave. Built from a solid block of marble the sculptor had spent ten years of his life working on the piece, carefully chipping away at the stone with the most delicate of touches. He could not be rushed, harried, forced or coerced into working faster. Sometimes he would not touch it for days, weeks even months at a time. My hands cannot achieve perfection at this time so I cannot work he would say, his tears glistening like diamonds in the sunlight as he gazed upon his slowly forming masterpiece.

Now it stands in the garden and only the old man knows her thoughts, for they are his thoughts as well. A true love they say, and he smiles a sad smile, for he knows they are right. It was a true and perfect love. But it was also a love that could not be. A love between royalty and a commoner. A love between a princess and a sculptor.