A true story about me. (Memories)

Some years ago when I still lived in Liverpool, I obtained tickets for a motorcycle show held in Manchester. The sort of show where the manufactureres tried to get people interested in their products. Quite big and a bit posh on the day I went.

It was held close to the railway station (G-Mex Centre??? Not sure now)

Great show really enjoyed it and I stayed there all day trying out bikes for size.

Anyway I had gone by train as it was easier to get there that way, so obviously I traveled home by train too.

I got to the station just as my train was leaving. The next one was not for another hour, so I settled down to wait. After a while I realised I was getting a bit peckish and went to find something to eat. They were selling sandwiches at a small kiosk, and I bought one. Ends were curling up a bit, but food is food.

I returned to the bench with my prize in hand ready to munch away. I unwrapped it and it didn't seem too bad. Opened my mouth to pop it in and take a bite, when I heard this odd noise.

Sounded like screaming and howling, and it was coming from somewhere up above. Mouth still open I leaned back and looked up. This was my big mistake.

Up on the girders were two pigeons, indulging in what we can delicately describe as reproduction actions. They were making a hell of a noise as they got 'down to business'

Then one of these fat arsed little rats with wings opened it's bowels and let fly.

As I said I was below all this. A stream of hot pigeon poo came down in a steaming stream to land on my face. All over my glasses, dripping off my face and (yeuk) filling my open mouth.

GAAAAHHHHHHH!

Trying to swear and keep my mouth open to let it come out was very difficult. I ran to the toilets calling them all the dirty b*stards going. Over the sink I threw my glasses in the stream of water to get them clean and tried to wash my mouth out. I think I drank and swilled about a gallon of hot water. Totally ignoring the fact there was a notice saying "Not Suitable as drinking water."

Not sure how long I was there for coughing, spluttering and saying rude words about pigeons.

Finally, I left the toilets, wretching and feeling quite frankly, bloody sick. Got to the platform, in time to see the train pulling out of the station, and two fat pigeons destroying my sandwich.

Some guy walked past and said. "Did you know you got pigeon **** on you?"

ARRRRRGH!

I have always liked motorbikes from as early as I can remember. One of my 'uncles' used to race professionally in the 1940's and 50's. Anyway for my 50th birthday I tried to get all kinds of things sorted for the "big one" and all plans fell apart. Eventually I decided to go for broke and bought myself a bike (for the first time in decades) I bought a Yamaha XVS 1100 A for those in the know. (I bought myself a big bike for those not in the know)

Test drive:
Start, stall, go red with embarrassment.
Start, stall, go even redder.
Start, fistful of throttle, scream in terro at the approaching brick wall, get it round by the skin of me teeth, nearly fill me pants.

Buy the bike.

I had the ideal place to park it at home. The built on bit at the side where it would be under cover and well protected. Wrong!

The place was too small to get the bike in. Unfortunate mistake but it could happen to anyone, so take it back onto the road, well no room to turn around. Had to pull it backwards up the slope. Gawd I wish it had been a moped by this time. I could not budge it. I strained and strained but simply could not move it up the slope. Maybe, (I thought) it would be easier from the other side. Very carefully I got myself around the other side and began to pull again. It moved! But not quite the way I had planned. It first rolled forward about an inch, then fell on top of me.

My fall was cushioned by my rose bush, The massive thorns tearing through my trousers (and me arse). Gawd it is amazing the strength you have with two inch long thorns in yer bum. I lifted the bloody bike off me. Almost carryied it to the road, and stood there full of anger, with me backside on full view to the neighbourhood and my trousers hanging from my rose bush.

Not long afterwards, I went for a ride on the bike, and just up the road by abouty 50 yards in the entrance to a resident's carpark. I was only doing about 10 mph or so as I approached it. A car driven by a wild feckless 'yoof' came flying out of the car park straight at me. I fell off.

Not a big deal, no harm to the bike, no harm to me. Apart from the fact it is a big bike, and my boot was trapped underneath it with my foot still inside and the exhaust burning my leg. Neighbours (bless them) came running over, young lad was crying thinking that as I wasn't moving I was dead. (I wasn't moving cos I couldn't)

The neighbours lifted the bike up slipped my boot off and I got free. Thanked everyone, and sat on the curb to put my boot on. I then leaned back on the grass thinking that it had been a bit close for comfort.

Just then "Nee Naa Nee Naa" An ambulance arrived. Some kind person had phoned in the accident.

"I am ok just a little fall is all."

"No it isn't don't move. You may have a broken neck."

"No seriously I am fine just fell off."

"LIE STILL! AND DON'T TALK!!"

"But...."

Next thing I was tied down to a stretcher and being hoiked into the back of an ambulance. I was being kidnapped by body snatchers incorporated. Then they started jabbing me with needles.

Police arrived and took statements (the car driver was given a hard time apparently)

The followed the ambulance to the hospital, with me still in it. As you know I live on the island of Anglesey, the hospital is on the mainland.

Whizzed into A&E and placed on a trolley in an almost upright position, still strapped into the stretcher with a neck brace on. The observation light was on and shone right in my face like some kind of gestapo interrogation.

Four hours later and practically blind by the light, the nurse came in and said:
"Right, I am going to cut your leathers off, it won't hurt."

I said:
"**** OFF, let me out of this madhouse. There is nothing wrong with me."

"The doctor will decide that. where does it hurt?"

"My wallet, these leathers cost a bleedin mint. And get that light out of my face fer gawdsd sake. Please... Please?"

The police then returned breathalised me and said "You are in the clear."

The doctor came, laughed and said "You are in the clear, you can go."

I was let out, still in me leathers (phew) but on the mainland, no money, no phone and no bike. It took me all night to get home, and when I did my mate said he had moved my bike at the police request and put it on the garden.

Nose down against the built in bit next to the bloody rose bush.

Thanks for the compliment Teagwee, very kind of you.

Must dredge my memory for a few more episodes in my rather mundane and uneventful life.

Up until a few months back when I took a couple of day break in Dublin, I have never actually had a holiday in my life. No I am not looking for sympathy I have been lucky enough to go to many nice places, but it has usually been in the line of work.

Anyway a few years back, my sister phoned me to tell me my father was planning a little holiday for himself, and his idea was that as he is getting on a bit he would like one of us to be with him, and would I do the honours? It would be a break for me too. So of course I said yes. So it was left to me to sort something out. I eventually came up with the idea of a little break on the canals on one of those narrow boat thingies. A slow pace and dad would love it, (and frankly so would I) My dad loved the idea. So I phoned my sister back and told her. "That's wonderful, I will sort it for you both" Hmmmm Do any of you have a sister that knows what's best for you?

About an hour later she phoned me back. "I have booked you both into a hotel" WHAT???? :eek: "We wanted a boat holiday on the canal"

" Ah yes" she replied, " But you wouldn't enjoy that so I got you into a hotel in North Wales."

"I live in North Wales"

"Yes but this is not in your village you silly man."

Resigned to the fact that I wouldn't win the argument I accepted this as fact. Always safer than arguing with my sister. "Where is it then?"

"Treaddur Bay"

" What? That is the next village along, I can walk there in 20 mins, I go through there virtually on a daily basis. What the heck are you playing at?"

"Oh, I didn't know. I will phone you back."

"The boating idea is best I think"

She said she would sort it out and phone back. And she did, about an hour later. "OK it is booked you have a room each in a hotel." :mad:

"Llandudno"

Well I go there a lot as I have an aunt and a few cousins living there. But I wasn't going to win, so I accepted it, it would be a nice break anyway. Nice hotel break would be fine.

The big day came and I beetled off to Llandudno. My sister was dropping my dad off at the hotel.

I got there first and hung around waiting, and soon after they turned up and we all met up and had hugs and stuff, so we went to book in.

"I am sorry sir but we are over booked I am afraid you will have to share a room."

Share a room with my dad who snores like a pig in a heatwave? OMG no.

"It has a king sized bed so you will be comfortable."

Share a room with a snoring Dad AND share the bed? NO NO NO :mad:

Eventually after some serious arguing they found us another room with twin beds. It was better but it was not going well at this point. In the end I had to accept this. Sister and her husband tootled off leaving me with my dad, so we went to the room, (I had to shuffle him up in the lift of course and he started to moan right away. "This carpet is too thick I will trip on it, these lights are a bit bright .... " etc etc. I was going to have a wonderful time.

The first night we went downstairs to the bar for a beer or two. It had been years snce I had had a beer with my dad. It was going to be A beer too not a few, not at hotel prices. He accused me of keeping the change. GRRRR. Still there was a live act on, something like the Tiller Girls. Legs kicking act. I think it was meant to be for the older folks so as it was my dad's break really I didn't mind.

A very pretty lady came over to our table and asked if she could join us as there was nowhere else to sit. And of course I said yes. She invited her mother over and we made up a foursome. It was very pleasant, unti my dad said he needed to go to bed. So reluctantly I said goodnight to the pretty lady and took my dad up to the room. We get there and he said to me (no word of a lie) "See how I look after you son? That lady was after you there for only one thing." "Jayzus Dad I bloody know. and I thought it was going well too." I rushed back to the bar but unfortunately the lady and her mother had left. :mad:

Sad old me went to bed, dad as usual was already snoring loud enough to rattle the windows, and I slept hardly a wink all night. The following morning we got up for breakfast and then went back to the room with a newspaper for my dad to read. I lay on the bed and tried to catch up on the missing sleep.

Most of you know I work on an airfield? Well I was just dozing off when:
WHOOSH, ROAR.

One of our aircraft was doing a flying display over the beach in front of the hotel. Please please let me sleep. But no one of the planes I fixed for the airshow was actually doing the airshow outside my hotel window. Finally he went away. a deep sigh and a hat over my eyes and I tried to get that much needed sleep.

WHOP WHOP WHOP

Now What? The flying display was not over. A rescue helicopter was showing off what it could do. Right outside (and I really do mean RIGHT outside) the window. I looked out and the aircrew actually waved and gave me a big smile. I did say a rude word at this point. My dad was fascinated and watched it all. Sometime later that went away and I lay back on my bed with a headache.

BOOM BOOM BOOM

A Marching band and a parade.

By the end of the day I was a jibbering wreck.

Day two I went for a wander to the beach to see if there was an easy path for my dad to follow (he hates walking on sand at the best of times) I found a little path that went over some rocks not too arduous and with me to help he would be fine. I will just make sure it is not too difficult to walk on for him.

ARGH! The tide had not long gone out, I stood on some wet seaweed and over I went. In me best holiday clobber, headfirst into a massive rockpool. I came up with seaweed and living things all over me, soaked to the skin.... and about 200 people looking down from the pier at me, every one of them laughing like crazy.

Day Three dad wanted a news paper so I went out to the shop, it gave me a break from him, god bless him, and a bit of fresh air. I bought some rock for the kiddywinkies a newspaper and was about to set off back to the hotel when a few people started running past me in the opposite direction. I was a little bemused but just carried on. Until of course I found out why they were running in the opposite direction.. I walked straight into a swarm of wasps or bees or something. (I was not hanging around to examine them that closely, besides they were interested in my sticks of rock. I have not moved so fast in years. Paper over my head and I gave it some leather down the street.

I got back to the hotel hardly stung at all, thankfully. Went to the room and dad said "I wanted the Daily Mirror not the Daily Post." I wanted to throttle him with it.

Finally, the relaxing break came to an end and I took him home and hugged him, thanking him for a great time. I swiftle made my escape and returned to work for the break.

AND that is one reason I have NEVER had a holiday. They are just too stressful.