That villa holiday.
The one with many mishaps, arguments, too much gin and Carl getting so drunk that, well, we all know what he did.
Let’s start with the injuries.
On the first day I walked into a wall and got a black eye, Derek developed a swollen tongue and we spent the whole week trying to get him to say ‘spicy sausages’, Hippy Chris decided it would be a good time to learn to skateboard. (because of course we bought skateboards on holiday) He manged one foot on the board, lost it and smashed his elbow, off to hospital he went only to return with the strongest painkillers ever that left a mile wide grin on his face.
We had a lovely jaunt in the hire cars to a church on a hill, well, it was christened the Church of Metal by Cuss as I recall, something to do with Sepultura.
I may have drunk too much gin and did a few silly things. I may have also decided to skate down the very steep hill the villa was on, I can’t possibly comment on how successful that was.
We had a lovely BBQ by the pool, or the beer storage pool as it became.
Glenn upset the ladies by telling them they weren’t allowed to play poker, never did find out why.
James invented his own language.
I discovered there are many different types and flavours of gin when we visited Mahon and went to the gin factory that had a whole free tasting table.
We added a new holiday rule that ‘everything is, up there, second on the left’
I’m sure I’ve left out other stuff, like going to the Indian restaurant where James made new friends. But there were a lot of very fuzzy days.
