Back From Benidorm

Image: SkyScraperCity

Having not written a single blog entry for November up until last week, I feel it’s now rather cheeky of me to say I have yet again been remiss due to a long weekend spent with my pals, the Diners, in sunny Benidorm.

Fully kilted and wrapped in a blanket of love and boyish nonsense, we flew off to a sunnier clime for our autumn getaway, and it was a few days of respite I badly needed; I hadn’t seen my friends for going on three months.

We arrived on Friday morning and if you are one of my Twitter followers you will have already gotten a taste of the antics that then ensued. Benidorm is relaxed and easy during the day, hot in the sunshine and cool in the shade. At night in November it is a cold place, only heated up by the frenzied behaviour of the pub and clubbers that dominate.

Bendiorm is crazy, almost too mental even for me. It is wild and boorish, colourful and sickenly gloated in the drunken laughter and hazy memories of the night before. It is noisy, care-free and laced with every sexual persuasion going. It didn’t take us long to realise that Benidorm is a haven for extreme transvestites with absolutely no care in the world and full-on no shit given for attitude.

I will never allow myself to get into the position of being able to be chatted up by a woman with an Adam’s Apple and roaming hands ever again; wedding rings seem to become invisible to these people in Benidorm.

Benidorm is great for Donner Kebabs, for €1.50 bottles of tasty bottles of beer (Mahou), and for nibbling White Bait and olives with vodka while watching the world go by. It’s not so good if you want a quiet holiday, so it’s just as well the Diners weren’t there for one. We went to let our hair down, to relax and have fun, to drink and be merry, and to remind ourselves that we will get round to growing old when we stop partying, not stop partying because we’ve grown old.

Having said all of this, the long weekend away left us all longing to get back home and it was wonderful to be met at the train station by my wife and daughter who had actually missed me while I was away. There’s nothing quite like a home brewed cup of tea and your own bed.

As a result of my weekend in the Costa del Sol and Jury Duty earlier in the month, my writing has suffered badly. And there are still a couple of events left in November that will remove more days from my schedule.

On Saturday I will be attending the 9th annual Beaujolais Breakfast in aid of the Marie Curie Cancer Trust. This is an all-day celebration of Beaujolais by way of a drinking session, but as it’s also in aid of charity it’s allowed and very much encouraged. Last year we raised £2,963 through the raffle, forfeits, auction, ticket sales and other means. Every year I donate books for signing and so far two copies of STELLA and one of FRINGE FANTASTIC have raised £160, so I’m quite proud of my own little contribution.

Until tomorrow, peeps!

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