(Same format as before, and god's honour, this is all true - I have appended my wife's original reply to the end....enjoy!)
On Holidays and the case for the defence....
Several people have commented to me that I am probably giving old fiery breath bad press - and in retrospect that is probably true. Therefore, because I am in such a good mood at the moment, I have decided to share some of my exploits in the frank admission that some of my exploits make even me wonder why she puts up with me
Where to start - perhaps lets start with a vacation to Tunisia.
We drove down to Heathrow - I say we as i actually had my hands on the steering wheel, she merely told me what to do, and that i was going to fast and so on - I think she sometimes forgets that automobiles are different from broomsticks
We arrive at heathrow and look for the Tunisair book in point.... after passing literally hundreds of check in points for acknowledged airlines, all very sophisticated with neon signs, high tech work stations and uniformed trolley dollies manning them we find a table with a crappy cardboard sign that announced "TUNISAIR". The moustache behind the table was wearing a uniform - it was just at this time that we did not realise that greasy denim was the national uniform of Tunisia...
We checked in - and somewhat to my surprise i was offered the choice of a smoking or non smoking seat - as OFB reacvhed for her inhalers i smiled and stated smoking. Now Tunisia is not famous for anything - but i do believe the national hobby is smoking - preferably the filthiest tobacco possible - and none of that filter crap either. As we got on the aircraft, the three rows of non smoking seats were conspicuous by there being devoid of life. The rest of the aircraft was a pall of smoke and arabic aftershave. We took off, and the trolley dollies started coming round to offer the light refreshments. Now normally that means you can have a free soft drink or pay expensive prices for crap beer...
Not on Tunisair
The choice of the soft drink was simple - red or white wine - and it was free!
So OFB has a single glass of white wine, while i proceed to reduce the european wine lake while carrying on a conversation with an elderly gentleman who was fascinated by Old Fiery Breath being a natural blonde.
(Easy way to tell chaps - look at the ladies moustache - if it is fair then you are likely to have matching collar and cuffs)
We had got down to some serious haggling - I was not interested in any camels but I thought a carpet emporium was possibly a fair price for the wife, when i felt the stare - with some reluctance I broke off negotiations and proceeded to drink heavily
We arrived in Tunisia, and OFB decanted me off the plane and onto the coach to take us to the hotel. While in transit to the hotel, OFB was listening to the tour guide who was giving a potted history in to the local history and culture. OFB's interest allowed me to relax into a drunken slumber, only to have my peace shattered by the important news that Tunisia is a MUSLIM republic and is therefore a dry state - alcohol is not readily available.
With tears in my eyes I had the temerity to disturb OFB and ask if this was true - and what the hell was I going to do? With a smile and sadistic twinkle in her eye she informed me that it was time for my liver to have a rest, and possibly eating rather than drinking and smoking might actually do me some good.
I tearfully looked out of the window, gazing at the Tunsian lanscape, (sand), the tunisian people, (all sandy) and the signs to the tourist amenities (all sandy beaches....)
We arrived at the hotel, and i was relieved to find out that they had a bar, and that all drinks were free from mid day untill midnight. Now as I possibly do have a touch of the red sea pedestrian in me, I am a firm believer in getting the maximum value for money. I therefore bribed the waiters to ensure that if they ever saw me looking like i may actually be about to finish a beer, they were to bring me one straight away. (This is actually for health reasons - we all know it is never safe to drink the local water, so I make sure I only drink the local water after it has been brewed)
So OFB started planning our trips for the week, while i grunted at the appropriate times to indicate interest.
The first couple of days passed quite well - OFB staying in the shade to protect her skin, while i lounged around in the 40 degree sun becoming brown and inebriated. Then on the second night, the travelling caught up with OFB - and she announced that she was leaving the bar early.
(Anytime before a bar closes is early - it is an english mark of honour that we do not leave a bar untill it is closed or we pass out)
So, being a gentleman, I walk her back to our room, and explain that I will go back to the bar for a few sherberts and will be back when the bar closes....
I weave my way back to the bar, skillfully avoiding the swimming pool that I had fallen into the previous night when well bladdered, and get back to the bar.
In the bar were a few other chaps, whose wives had all cried off due to tiredness.
Ales were sunk, and the singing started - then blow me but the moustache behind the bar closed it - spot on midnight
Now take a group of British chaps on the piss, and close the bar - that is a recipe for trouble. Remove any sane form of control - aka the wives, and you know that mischief is afoot.
We shambled to the front of the hotel, and arranged a taxi or two - there were 8 or nine of us I think - I can't be exactly certain as I seemed to have developed double vision - probably form seeing so much sodding sand.
So - into the cab, and first words to the driver were - "Take us to a bar"
The moustache snarled and said there were no bars open that would serve us.
Twenty pounds was passed over to him, and he seemed to get over his mental lapse and remember a bar that we could get served in.
Off we head into the depths of the old town (the sand was a slightly different shade so we knew it was older...) and stop out side what looked like a normal house.
In we pile, and find ourselves in a funny room where there where lots of moustaches glowering at us, and a few ladies dancing energetically with some moustaches. Even better, there was a bar
I use the word bar in it's most liberal sense, there was no beer, and you could have any spirit you wanted as long as it was vodka - no biggie there then. However - as it was a muslim country, there was no coke - I proceeded to drink Vodka and fanta - an interesting combination to say the least.
By about two thirty, we started to think about heading back to the hotel
First problem - what hotel were we staying at. This stymied us for a while until some intelligent person pulled out his room key that had the name of the hotel on it
Next thing - finding a taxi.
This proved hard - there was no obvious taxi rank, and the locals for some reason did not understand english - even when shouted at....
Finally we found some one who spoke a little english and told us where the hotel was
Two hours later we finish walking back to the hotel and i walk into our hotel room at four thirty, only four and a half hours late.
For some reason, Old Fiery Breath went apeshit ballistic. Now excuse me ladies, but I had said I would be back after the bar closed - admittedly I may have inferred that I would be back as soon as the bar closed, but a measly four hours late is not that bad....
Reeking of vodka and orange did not really do me much good either. Being a wuss, I laid down and accepted my bollocking with good grace - I fell asleep
So the next morning we are having breakfast, well, OFB was eating, I was mainlining caffeine and nicotine into my whimpering cardio vascular system and the Tourist rep wanders in and starts talking. She had heard that few of us had been out on the town and was fascinated about where we had been too. Apparently in teh 12 years she had been working in Tunisia, no tourist had ever been able to get a drink in one of the local's secret bars. I tried to remember where we had gone in the taxi - and I described it to her.
She paled - and and said with awe:
"No one has ever managed to even get into the local bars - and you managed to get into the brothel - that is amazing"
All I can say is that the 40 degree temperature dropped
it dropped so far that the atmosphere was positivly freezing
(Or as the ladies know only to well - the word frigid also works....)
I was so glad that I was wearing sunglasses - I could feel the stare and I knew that it's look would say a thousand words - along the lines of you complete and utter bastard....
For some strange reason I am no longer allowed to stay out drinking on my own - so I stand as an innocent man confounded by circumstances and the odd Vodka and Fanta....
***Old Fiery Breath Reply***
I had expected a quiet, relaxing time enjoying some early winter sunshine. Admittedly, it being an all inclusive resort was appealing - lazing aorund the pool all day, book in one hand and drink in the other. The fact I couldn't do anything else as I was still in a neck brace following a car crash 2 days earlier meant I had no choice in the matter.
No romantic Saharan safaris, no trip to El Djem - Roman amphitheatre even better than the Colosseum, no boat trips, no golf (note the bunkers in Tunisia have grass in them not sand....), no camel rides just gin and more gin. Much better pain killer than the things the doctor had given me. I liked the bar tenders idea of a measure. As it was the week leading up to Ramadan they had to use up the stock - 4 gins please, one bottle gone
I couldn't really argue when he said he wanted to stay out a bit later with the boys. He did walk me to our room and make sure I was settled for the night - well actually made it through the door. I thought it was really sweet how he insisted he kept the key so he wouldn't have to wake me up when he got back in 'just an hour or so'.
Normally there is a strategy to Alads bedtime routine - think of Poland, late August 1939 and you get the idea. Subconsciously I knew that something was up when it had got to the equivalent of 1980 and I hadn't been invaded. I turned the light on - the clock said 0430. Not bad, I thought, he's actually decided it would be safer to sleep on the balcony tonight. I checked - no snores were coming from that direction. I checked the bathroom - bathmat devoid of drunken husband.
What should I do? I read for a bit. It was 0445 and still no football chants to be heard. Why is it that Englishmen believe that ''Ere we go, 'Ere we go, 'Ere we go' can be both a sign of everlasting devotion to their team and a serenade guaranteed to gain admittance to their loved one's heart?
I decided to check the pool from the window - no bodies floating so that was a bonus. I got dressed. Not having a key to the room presented a problem. Should I wedge the door open and risk burglary or some kind person shutting it for me?
I risked it. I went downstairs and made my way around the pool towards the bar. The sunloungers were unoccupied - no beach towels yet, but they were sure to be there by 6am. Nobody asleep on the benches on the terrace. I looked through the window of the bar - empty.
By now it was 0515 and I was getting a little concerned. If he was going to pull a stunt like this he could have reminded me to post the life insurance forms........ I reassured myself with the fact that he did have a wristband on him that had the name of the hotel on it - not as good as my friend Tank's tattoo that stated 'if found drunk please return to......' that he would fill in as necessary with permanent marker, but it might suffice.
I tried to remember my schoolgirl french - ' J'ai perdu mon mari. Il etait dans le bar avec ses amies et maintenant je ne sais pas ou et'il' . More to the point, I could expect the reply of laughter not to need a translation.
Alad is not good at languages, he may be fluent in drunkenese and gibberish, but his french does not extend further than 'deux grandes biers, silver plate' and 'voulez vous couchez avec moi ce soir?'. Most of the time he uses them to the right people, but there has been the odd confusion caused now and then.
It was now 0545 and the sun was starting to rise through the haze of the industrial estate behind the hotel. Bollocks I thought, I'm going back to bed. I'll just make sure I'm ready for when he gets back.
Bearing in mind that it was a muslim country and that you can never rely on the weather, I had brought along my flanellette pyjamas. I donned these along with my thermal bed socks. I put in my curlers and took out my teeth and covered my face with cold cream. It was then I planned my revenge.
We'd been to the medina the day before and, both being spice freaks, had stocked up on chillis. Just a small application to the seam of each pair of underpants, swimming trunks shorts and trousers and no amount of frost from my direction was going to put out those fires!!
He finally appeared at 0630. He was a little surprised to find me awake. 'Making pastry at this time, my love?' was his first comment. I will not lower myself to repeat what my comment was. Whilst I was actually quite pleased to have avoided having to identify the body pulled out of the sea as being his, I wasn't going to let him know it. I made sure he was washed and clean before bed and tucked him up to sleep off the night.
I woke him for breakfast about 30 minutes later. I knew just how much he liked those almond pastries and knew he wouldn't want to miss out on them.
I was very pleased to see all of the other guys there with their partners, all looking equally subdued. We ran into the tour rep who expressed an interest in the events of the previous night. What she had to say was a little shocking, but did he have to say ' I wondered why the doorman asked us why we didn't like the girls'.
The rest of the holiday passed without much ado, although I am pleased to say that someone's enthusiasm for shopping increased so much that he was only too pleased to go looking for a new wardrobe for himself........
A holiday I once had
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