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[COMPETITION] Win a 7 night holiday in Majorca
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The winner is finally chosen and announced - my apologies for the delay - and it's the post by Zuroph below.Many years ago, My parents took me and my younger sister to Praia Da Rocha for a holiday. I was a little 6 year old terror, getting in fights with other kids by the pool, constantly running away and covered in scratches and bruises from my various adventures. I'm sure my poor folks needed another holiday after this one to recover from minding me 24/7.
Anyway, towards the end of the week, my folks fancied a decent meal out. Since the Hotel babysitters wanted nothing to do with me (mutterings of some words that sounded suspiciously like "devil"), they had no option but to bring me. The preparation started 2 days in advance, with my dad making many threats and pleads to me to be on my best behaviour. I was bribed, with promises of a supersoaker, and decided that I was going to be on my absolute best behaviour. Part of the challenge though, was I was to be dressed in a sailor suit so my parents would have "a cute photo opportunity"
The restaurant chosen was "The Titanic". My parents kept me amused and interested by telling me all the stories of the titanic, and how the restaurant was based on the dining hall in the first class section of the ship. I was pretty impressed by the place and eager to explore, but the promise of the supersoaker hung over my head, and kept me on my absolute best behaviour. I said "please" and "thank you" and did my best not to interrupt when someone else was talking. I could see my parents were impressed. That supersoaker was as good as mine, and those kids at the pool were going to pay tomorrow.
After our starters, I politely asked to be excused to go to the bathroom. I went about my business without diversion, even though I really wanted to check this amazing place out more. As I went to wash my hands though, disaster struck. the head of the tap came away in my hand, and the water gushed to the ceiling. I panicked and did my best to try jam it back on, spraying water EVERYWHERE. It was hitting the ceiling and spraying everywhere in the bathroom, and puddles were quickly forming. Soaked, I did what any guilty 6 year old would do. I ran.
"DAD DAD, COME QUICK!!" ..Seeing how soaked I was, my mother started "What the HELL IS GOING..." but I'd already dragged Dad halfway across the restaurant towards the bathroom. I could see his veins in his head start to throb, and I knew already this was going to be bad. When he saw the bathroom, floor now completely submerged in a few inches of water, with water pouring out into the hall, He knew the same. He gave up on one very quick attempt at replacing the tap, returned to our table, gathered our stuff, and we paid at the door on the way out before they discovered the mess. Night ruined, mother distraught, sailor costume saturated. We passed the next evening, and the restaurant was closed for "emergency renovations".
To this day, at every family occasion I have endure the telling of "The night Michael Sunk the Titanic", usually accompanied with this photo, which was taken an hour before the crime. Butter wouldn't melt.
I never got my supersoaker..
Congratulations - Alpharooms will be in touch about your prize.
Thanks all for entering - more competitions hopefully coming your way soon!
Cheers
Darragh0 -
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I met the woman of my dreams (still my current woman:) ) just over 3 years ago. We'd only been going out about four months when I decided to take her on a surprise trip in an attempt to truly sweep her off her feet. This was the first proper holiday I'd ever organised myself period, never mind an excursion to impress, and so I guess a touch of alpha (;)) male came over me. I pulled out all the stops by picking one of the most romantic cities in the world - Venice. As anyone who has ever been knows, it is not a cheap city, to stay in or get to. Nonetheless I was determined to make my mark.
The first hitch arose when Aer Lingus began to threaten strike action a few weeks before our departure, as seems to be their pattern whenever I attempt to leave the country. Having spent a few hundred on the flights, a fortune on accommodation (about €800 for 4 nights!), and a bucket of sweat on not inadvertently giving the game away in the previous weeks, I panicked. This resulted in me spending another hundred and fifty on Ryan Air flights to a feeder airport about an hour outside Venice proper to insure against the potential strike (which never materialised).
My girlfriend was in Germany at the time, having gone over to help her sister who had injured her back. The second hitch arose when I was all a fluster on the phone about the strike and blurted out our destination :eek: Still all was not lost as she was delighted!
With the threat of a strike averted, we were able to fly in relative luxury (economy ahem) and touched down in the floating city, the plane a little lighter as a result of my battered wallet. As we wound our way through the narrow cobbled streets in semi-darkness, the gurgling canals added to the magic. However it would take more than conjuring to banish the third hitch.
After an increasingly anxious search of an hour, we eventually found our lodgings hidden away in a side-street, like so many parts of the city. It looked quaint on the outside, but like the photos on the website, promising in that the reception was lavishly furnished, if a little dated. Now as I mentioned earlier accommodation can be hard to find in Venice, particularly at short notice, so as soon as I had found something online I snapped it up. However I neglected to notice that this hotel specialised in themed rooms. This being the city of love, I experienced a sinking feeling as I signed the bill (in what felt like gold ink given the cost) as I noticed “Casanova Suite” printed at the bottom.
We were shown to our room and entered. Silence reigned for an eternity and then I heard a titter, followed by the hysterical laughter of my girlfriend. Perhaps the pictures below will demonstrate why:
Not so much four-poster as four shades of gray
The room was like something out of Aladin’s cave gone wrong – gaudy erotic red curtains in an ancient room, candlestick chandelier with a faux gold intricate headrest on the bed. I can laugh now, but at the time only knowing each other four months, I felt a tad foolish and as if my intentions were blatantly less than pure
Either that or she might think there was a fourth hitch after a very short courtship! To top this off we felt as if we were being watched by “Emelene” the entire stay, which was the name we gave to the rather provocative woman hanging on the wall whose eyes seemed to follow us no matter where we went.
Emelene's watchful presence
Here is a picture of me attempting to recover my composure:
The destination was not a surprise, the room on the other hand ... Still after more than three years together I must have done something right!
Help me make Emelene a distant memory, and turn hysterical laughter into awestruck silence as we laze by the pool in sunny Majorca!
Yours sincerely
the man forever known as Casanova
Oh my god i haven't laughed like that in a while :pac:
It looks like Glen Quagmire's bedroom :pac:
My Eyes, My eyes :eek::pac:0 -
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