Fun, Frolics and Flatulence Part 2

When we collected our baggage at the airport,  found the coach that would transfer us to the holiday complex and settled into our seats for the final part of our very, very long  journey. At some point, whilst we were on the coach, Stu stood up and head-butted the baggage hold above his seat, again!! So he now had three round pieces of skin missing from the top of his head !! But he didn’t complain, he just accepted it, shrugged it off and carried on in true British bulldog fashion.

We finally arrived and two staff members came to the coach and took charge of our suitcases. We followed them to the reception area at a reluctantly urgent pace (They were in a hurry, we were not) Stuart needed to sit down (He was tired, we were all tired) before he fell down, so a rather large woman conjured up a chair from somewhere and virtually forced him to sit. As he lowered himself onto the chair, the top of his mangled head revealed itself to her gaze. The look on her face was hilarious. Her mouth opened wide, like she had just been witness to a mass beheading, her eyes bulged so much they nearly touched his head and she ran silently, like the wind, her ample chest bounced in time with her buttocks. By the time she arrived back, armed with a few tissues, my wife, Angie (Mother Hen) had already moved swiftly like a commando, with a tissue of her own to stem the flow of squirting blood. (It was only two round grazes)

The receptionist handed the apartment key to a member of staff and he, along with his female colleague moved like a rabbits, expecting us to keep up with them. (Which we didn’t) We arrived at the door of our apartment and they ushered us in. It was extremely big, as big as a small two bedroom house, with a winding staircase that led up to 2 bedrooms and a bathroom. Downstairs, there was a big living area with a small kitchen and a shower room to the side of the front door. On the coffee table there was 4 glasses of water, some bread that had seen better days, with a couple of plates of ham (I think) and cheese (I think)

The staff left us to our own devices and Angie climbed the stairs, which is when she proclaimed, like Mussolini on crack “These stairs are far to dangerous for you Stuart, we’ll have to move apartments in the morning”. After agreeing with mother hen, we all climbed ‘Mount Everest’ to take a look at the bedrooms. Stuart and Jackie chose their room so we were left with the other one. The problem was that our room had no air conditioning, and everyone was sweating like cows in an a slaughterhouse.  Mother hen decided, on behalf of everyone, that we would ask to change rooms when we woke-up in the morning (In about 4 hours) Myself and mother hen slept on the two couches downstairs because the heat was stifling in the bedroom, leaving Stuart and Jackie to fart to their hearts content in the comfort of their air conditioned room. It has to be said that Stuart is a world class producer of wind, and Jackie isn’t far behind him. His flatulence is so loud and long that I was surprised the neighbours didn’t complain!!

We woke up a few hours later ‘Refreshed’ and ready to start the first day of our holiday. After breakfast we sat by the side of the pool drinking orange juice, or something that resembled orange juice. Then, it was time for mother hen to assume command and sprung into a determined strut, followed by Jackie to the reception to ask for a change of apartment. Five minutes later they came back and said we had been offered another one, they had viewed it and made the executive decision to move into it asap.

Stuart, because of his problems with walking and carrying, couldn’t take part in the great moving house operation, we didn’t and wouldn’t have expected it. So, in true gestapo fashion, we followed mother hen to our apartment, collected our cases and migrated to a different block of apartments. Passing the pool, we saw Stuart relaxing in a chair, casually sipping orange juice as we left a trail of sweat behind us. Whilst mother hen went to swap keys, Myself and Jackie lugged our cases up two flights of stairs. I took 5, Jackie took the other one. (After carrying the first two cases up the first flight of stairs I thought to myself “Why the f*&k are we doing this?!!)  I left the women to unpack the cases after receiving instructions from mother hen to go and re-join Stuart. Whilst I was sat with Stuart, Mother hen and Jackie appeared on the balcony of our new apartment and waved, so I in turn waved and pointed them out to Stuart, who looked at them, looked at me and said “Shall we sample the beer”? When the women rejoined us they each had a cold beer (Questionable) waiting for them. It was now time to start our holiday in earnest.

To be continued.

8 thoughts on “Fun, Frolics and Flatulence Part 2

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