We were supposed to be in Spain for 1 week, we stayed more than 3. The rain was so bad back in the UK that we just said fuck it, let’s stay here until it stops.I mean my life just wouldn’t have been worth living if I took her back to get piss wet through so once again I took the safe option, I extended our time in Spain by 1 week, and then again by another week, so our total stay was 3 weeks. I kept phoning my brother in law at home in the UK, “Bri, how’s the weather doing?” “It’s fucking pissing it down mate” he would say. They were using canoes to get to the shops it was so bad. Torrential rain swept the UK in June and July, causing travel chaos and forcing the evacuation of homes and schools. Helicopters were sent to rescue people from homes in Worcestershire, a hospital was flooded in West Sussex and a man died in his home in Cumbria. Roads were badly hit in the Midlands and across southern England, with flights and trains canceled or late. (Nothing new there then with the rail network) More bad weather was expected in Wales and central England over the forthcoming days. OK we don’t give a toss about Wales, OK the sheep get herded in to shelter but that’s a bonus for the Welsh guys, it meant they got more choice of fucks didn’t it??
Heathrow Airport had to cancel 141 flights 1 day because of severe weather conditions across the country and Luton Airport was described as “virtually cut off” by floodwaters at one point so what was the point of me going home. Worst of all though was that Yorkshire was getting battered, we were the worst hit. I even heard that if I did manage to land I would struggle to find my car as it was underwater. Just my fucking luck then extra time in the Sunshine. The problem was the hotel was fully booked so we had to look elsewhere for accommodation. As luck had it there was a block of holiday apartments over the road and we met a woman who said she had 1 spare for rental. The only problem was it had no air con. and there was no club to send the kids to in the morning which in turn ended my morning sex sessions. That must of really upset Ana, when she knew that the UK sex stud wouldn’t be able to give her the morning wake up call, I just couldn’t understand how easy she accepted the issue. Hurt my feeling a little but did I let it show? did I fuck. The only thing worrying me at this stage was that we were now self catering and as she didn’t bring the cleaner or chef with her I just knew someone would be working their bollocks off and it certainly wouldn’t be her, the lazy bastard. Plan B, where’s the closest take away?

After freezing my nuts off, Ana giving me too much grief and of course the suspicion lingering over the family after the blaze that destroyed our last destination we decided it was time to do runner and where better to escape to than that great British gangster hideaway, Spain.. OK the gangsters go to Marbella on the Costa del Sol and we went to Benidorm on the the Costa Blanca but it did have that ‘running from the law’ mystique about it. Now I visited Benidorm with Richie and my daughter in May this year so I had a sort of idea where to go and where to keep away from. There are basically 2 areas to Benidorm, Poniente and La Cala an area frequented by locals and mainly Spanish families, Tapas bars, clean beaches and a secure beautiful area and then there’s Levante, full of British drunks, spewing up there Kebabs and cheap Sangria in full view of families, so being the dedicated responsible family man I am it was Poniente that we headed for. The hotel was ok, well it had a bar which is as far as I looked and also the most important thing of all, it had a kids club. These are great for those mornings when you wake up with a head like a pneumatic drill, a mouth that feels like the inside of a parrots cage and a fucking massive erection. This is when you need an hotel that has a Childrens Entertainment Centre, commonly known as the Kids Club. I usually tie the little fuckers up and lock them in the bathroom with masking tape over their mouths but I wasn’t too sure about the child laws in Spain so I didn’t want to take a chance doing that. Safe way, Children’s Club. Kick the little fuckers out of the room at 10am and someone looks after them for you until 2pm and it’s free, magic, what more could a man need?? So that was it, a week of guaranteed Sun, Sand and Sex? or should that be Sangria?? What more could anyone ask for? I have got to say that I have started to like Benidorm, there really is something for everyone, especially if one keeps away from the drunken yobs at the top of town, it really does make me ashamed to be British sometimes, although to be fair I suppose we were all young at one point. When I was here in May with Richie I was impressed with the Hotel food so I was looking forward to the next mornings breakfast where all the local delicacies could be tried again. Wrong again, I forgot about the most important issue to a Venezuelan, especially in my house, SLEEP, fuck they should have an Olympic event for sleeping, my lot would win all 3 medals. Rumpelstiltskin wouldn’t have a look in. This really pissed me off as it left me with nothing to do on a morning after my 4 mile run and the swim in the Mediterranean. I was swimming away one morning at 6am with a fellow holiday maker and it brought back memories of the naked dips that ChrisV and I used to take here on the Island. The only difference was that this time my swimming partner wasn’t a Fat Bastard with a red blistered face after too many hours drinking beers in the midday sun. Mad Dogs and Englishmen. So after my dip it was a Newspaper and an hour on the balcony each morning whilst awaiting the 10am roll call for the sprogs to get up and fuck off to the kids events.

Benidorms attractions include the Waterpark, which is supposed to be the biggest in Europe and a Theme Park called Terra Mitica, which is where we headed on day 3 of our 1 week stay. Now I am getting too old for these fast roller coaster ride things, a bit scared too could be the reason. Anyway the kids head straight for the roller coaster but the youngest isn’t allowed on. They have this fucking stick with a crossbar on it and if you can walk under it your too small. Instead of going through on his tip toes and being allowed through because of his increased height he thought it was a fucking game of Limbo and under the bar by about 22 inches, so he was kicked out. That left 2 choices, either Ana or myself with the oldest son, guess what ?? I lost again and when I say lost believe me, this was a massive loss. I fucking shat myself, never ever again will I be so fucking stupid and get on that horrible death trap again. I just knew thisn wasn’t for me, when 30 seconds after starting we had climbed to 30,000 feet, or it felt that way as I looked down to see a Air France 747 jetting along. I also know that what goes up so far must come down so far. That’s when I started moving my feet around trying to find the brakes, which as I now know it didn’t have any.This fucking thing set off downhill at a speed that fucking terrifies me now, just thinking about it. It went through a right hand hair pin so fast that I thought my ribs had collapsed, so I did what any normal brave matcho guy would do, I closed my eyes and I said my fucking prayers. My relief when we landed, or stopped, it felt like landed beleive me, my relief was unprintable. Out of this wooden car I hop and my fucking ribs are killing me, like as in major pain. Of cvourse when I tell me beloved, “Darling I have broke my Ribs” I get the normal reply, “Fuck off you soft cunt.” So no sympathy at all. Fuck did they hurt, all afternoon they hurt and they were so bad in the night that I was restricted to only 14 bottles of San Miguel, which really does prove how bad I was. The funny thing though was, next morning, all the pain had fucked off. Broken Ribs?? Heart Attack?? Stroke?? Doctor Jake, help me…..

Sun, Sea and Sex was the dream. Rain, wind and Daily Bollockings were the reality. Never go on any vacation with the wife for longer than a week. It’s a fucking nightmare. I have just returned from a 12 week trip to Europe with my dearly beloved and the kids. Some business, some pleasure and plenty of grief. I wrote earlier about the hassles we had at the airport when departing so lets get straight down to business and sunny UK here we come. WRONG, it was cold enough to make a Shepard want to fuck his Sheep Dog. This is July in Europe for fucks sake, we are allowed at least 2 months decent weather. Not this year, just my luck. The Ozone layer is to blame with all this greenhouse gas shit, this is not my opinion but the opinion of experts. So all you guys in the US with those big fuck off cars that guzzle too much gas, you have assisted in fucking up my vacation, I hope you are pleased. And Perry who drives a 55 foot Limo in Washington is without doubt the main culprit and I can assure everyone that this will not be forgotten when he returns to the resort in March 2008. But Ozone, Perry or Chinese Power Stations were not to blame in our household, no was the cause of the bad weather according to the other half. How the fuck can she blame me?? “Paul, you are a fucking arsehole bringing me and the children to this climate” she was telling me every day for the first 9 weeks. I tried to cheer them up by taking them on a shopping trip to the local market where I got them all a scarf, gloves and rubber boots, that only made things worse. I always amazes me how my wife can come out with such blue language in perfect English?? This can only be down to certain guests who visit us and use choice words frequently and in earshot of her. I would please ask all future guests to please keep the foul language toned down when she is anywhere in the vicinity as it is I who get all the repercussions. The only thing that kept me sane in the first few weeks was the fact that the resort was in good capable hands whilst I was away. Richie and Frank did a top job for which I am grateful, Richie trying not to fuck the girls and Frank trying to drive normally, it must of been a fucking experience in itself watching them.

First port of call was the East coast of England. Skegness in fact, a so called thriving holiday location with it’s golden tropical beaches, more caravans than people, Butlins the famous holiday camp which is more reminiscent of a Home Guard Army camp from the second World War and of course the famous Embassy Centre where 70 year old has been comedians and croners still ply there trade. What more could a woman want from her husband?? Quite a lot it would seem. Just no gratitude at all is there?? I mean we try andkeep them happy and give them lifes little luxuries and they just throw it back at you don’t they?? “What kind of shit hole is this you’ve brought us to?” she would keep saying. I think she was more pissed off when we had Fish and Chips and she realized there were no heads on the fish, hence no eyeballs to devour. She called it bad food, I called it Civilized. I lost again… I tried my best all week to keep things on an even keel, Ice Creams were offered in abundance, “Fuck off it’s too cold for Ice Cream” visits to the local amusement arcades were the only option to keep out of the cold, and I wasn’t spending money in those fucking places, they are too expensive for me. I did try giving the odd 10p arcade machine a bang in the hope that coins would free flow out of the chute but all I did was set the alarm off and get us kicked out, got shit from her again over that. Moan, moan, moan all fucking week it was, “they should burn this fucking place down” she repeated on several occasions. Well theres a story to that, after about the 5th day their, the unthinkable happened. To everyones shock and disbelief, except Ana;s of course, she was over the moon, the Town was burnt down, or most of it on the beach front was. At its height the fire could be seen more than 20 miles out to sea and water from nearby swimming pools was used to put out the flames. Police said the fire was being treated as suspicious but could not rule out an accidental cause as investigations were at an early stage. Suspicious, what? I stayed indoors for 3 days burning all her clothes, I was convinced she had done. Either for revenge against me for choosing a shitty place or maybe just to warm her hands, I don’t know but I all smelt fucking fishy to me. I got the lap top out and managed to book a last minute flight to Spain, she thought it was to please her? No way, I was just happy to get away from Skegness, that and the fact it hadn’t stopped raining for 6 days and I too was getting pissed off. Up and away we go, tomorrow we invade the Costa Blanca and the town of Benidorm…

Just to let everyone know I am back and will be blogging from tonight. Stay tuned for a mad recap of my European Adventure.

When you travel, you are often asked for identity. I overheard this at the airport:

Q: “Your name please?”
A: “Abdul Aziz.”
Q: “Sex?”
A: “Twice a week.”
Q: “I mean, male or female?”
A: “Doesn’t matter. “