Thursday, 19 August 2010

A Good Week A Bad Week August 1987

“Each time the wind blows I hear your voice so” What do me and Michael Jackson have in common? It’ll surprise you. No, no guesses? Well he released that in August 1987 and I had the holiday from hell but also the best holiday I ever had the same month. There see I told you it would surprise you.

So where do I start? Well at the beginning I suppose. At the age of 14 I had my first experience of a holiday abroad in Majorca. The first week was a bloody nightmare the second was one of the best weeks holiday I’ve ever had. The complete good week, bad week, scenario. It was all inclusive as well, we did know how to live back in the day..

When we got there the hotel had double booked our rooms so my family, plus my uncle, aunt, cousin and boyfriend decamped in the lobby. After 6 hours of everyone having a go at the bloke behind the counter and him pretending not to speak English we finally got our rooms. The only problem was they were on floors 4 floors apart. Great for me, nightmare for the parents. In a foreign country and not able to keep an eye on any of us. Utter bliss. There was the night me and Nicky snuck out at 1am to finish clubbing thinking they had all gone to bed when the lift doors opened and there stood all the parents. Nicky did what all good sisters do, pointed the finger straight at me and said he made me do it. Yeah right I dragged you out of bed and made you come.

Or the time when my cousins boyfriend came back pissed then decided to go for a swim in the pool at 3am. Fully clothed as well I might add. I found it hilarious but the security guards didn’t and to be honest neither did he when I saw them coming and legged it, leaving him in the pool all on his own, well survival of the fittest and all that.

It was a beautiful place, great views, an alcove with a pure sandy beach, but there was a problem no-one told us about. The current was so strong that if you went more than 10 metres out it dragged you into the cliffs and out to sea. 5 people died that first week, no one did anything to warn people and bodies floated up on the beach of a night and were left there until day break. We nearly came home twice but couldn’t get return flights. So glad we never because the second week was a bit special for me personally.

There comes a time in every boys life when he starts to notice the opposite sex. He may have had a smooch or two but there comes a time when he thinks he is gods gift and every porn film he’s ever watched stolen from his mates dad ( come on we’ve all done it haven’t we, made friends with someone who’s dad’s got a stash of badly dubbed German porn films from the 70’s. I knew one bloke who sold his Dad’s entire porn collection. He was the most popular kid in school for months. The best bit was his Dad couldn’t bollock him as his mum didn’t know he had them. Genius pure genius. ) and he thinks he knows how its done. Anyway back to the story. So this second week I met up with a load of people from another hotel. I was 14, tall lad for my age, blond hair, blue eyes, you get the picture, the best bit was all these 18 and 19 year old girls thought I was 17. Well who was I to argue?

I spent the best part of that week being passed around the group of these girls, with a smile on my face I might add, having the time of my life. That is until one afternoon I disappeared with one of these girls back to my room. Now being a school boy I made a pure school boy error. I forgot too lock the bloody door. There I was in the throws of passion with, well I would say the lady of my choice but to be honest she chose me because I think it was her turn but I wasn’t arguing, when horror of horrors, my mum walked in.

Yep caught by my mother. Those of you that know her, know she is a sensitive soul at the best of times. She hurled abuse at the girl, then me I might add, and ran out of the room crying. Now I was bricking it as I would have to face my Dad. I crept downstairs and there he was waiting for me, with my uncle, oh great the two of them, now I’m for it. My uncle tried desperately to keep a straight face as my Dad asked me what I had been doing. What could I say? Yep nothing was the name of the game here. He then smiled and said “Well at least it wasn’t a bloke” to which I laughed and went to find said girl.

That holiday taught me many things, firstly lock the bloody door, secondly if you can get away with lying about your age then do it, but most importantly that we don’t know how long we have on this earth. Make sure you live every day as if it was your last. Tell your family you love them every day, and most importantly if you ever meet a group of northern lasses on holiday who wish to pass you around to use as they feel, well congratulations, been there worn the t-shirt and had the time of my life.


  1. Sounds like a great trip mate!


  2. It was the making of a boy into a man lol memories I'll never forget lol