I donÂ’t know why I ever go on holiday. I always end up in some kind of pain. My last holiday was an ultimately doomed attempt to save a relationship with a romantic break in Barbados. I had a pretty rubbish time, especially after I went larking around in the sea on day three. I was caught by a big wave, spun over and cracked my head on the sand in about six inches of water. This was fairly lucky as most of the beach was made of stones. I hurt my head and shoulder and inexplicably one of my testicles ballooned to almost three times its normal size (donÂ’t make any jokes about that not being a big size. I am proud to say that my testicles are of, if anything, above average size in normal circumstances).
This pretty much put paid any romance for the rest of the week, though to be honest with you I think it was unlikely there was going to be any anyway. My balls were destined to ache whether injured or not.
Consequently I spent the rest of the week on a beach on an island in paradise with a pained expression on my face, and unable to move around without squealing. The plane flight home was the worst. You donÂ’t know pain until your damaged testicles have been flown at speed through a variety of different air pressures (they have to be still attached to your body to experience the full pain, though I understand their removal can cause you slight discomfort also).
Now I am holiday I am not writing about cocks any more. I am able to expand my horizons and write about testicles instead.
Anyway, my first day on the beach in my latest holiday and things werenÂ’t quite as bad, but still inevitably went wrong.
All morning the mist shrouded Woolacombe bay. As we drove down to the beach my brother-in-law Dick said “Once you’re over this hill the view is amazing… you know, when you can see it.” If a view of a vast cloud of mist shrouding everything around you is amazing (and in a way it is), then he was right.
Eventually me and my nephew, Andy (yes, the one who beat me at tennis. I havenÂ’t forgotten. The loss of the five pounds still hurts) ended up waiting on the beach for the others who had gone to enquire about the price of paintball.
Andy made the arrangement. He said we had to wait on the beach and the others would find us.
I did wonder what the chances were. Woolacombe beach is apparently very big. But I wasnÂ’t able to verify that, because it was also covered in mist.
We waited some good time, but the others didnÂ’t show up. We decided to pass the time by playing backgammon for money. I was especially keen to do this when I learned that my nephew hadnÂ’t really played backgammon before. Oh he could use his physical strength to win five pounds off me at tennis, but my old brain is not worn out just yet. I sensed that I might be winning my money back.
As we played the mist started to lift, very slowly. I could almost make out the sea. There were houses on the hillside.
Sometimes I told Andy when he was making a foolish move, to help him learn to be better, but mainly I didnÂ’t because I saw the chance of making enough money to see me through the rest of my holiday. As a caring Uncle I thought it was my duty to show him that gambling doesnÂ’t pay. I also thought of the smug smile he had given me as I handed over the five pounds after the tennis match, which also made me feel less inclined to tell him about his mistakes.
I stood to make tens of pounds!
The mist lifted further and I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. Maybe this wasnÂ’t going to be such a gloomy holiday after all. Andy went up the beach to look for his mum and dad, but couldnÂ’t find them. The fleecingÂ… I mean backgammon continued.
I noticed that my arms and legs were going slightly pink. I was a bit concerned because I hadnÂ’t put on suncream (it seemed foolish in the fog) and my sister had all the beach stuff. But you canÂ’t get burnt in the fog, right?
By the time we went to look for Jill and Dick again the mist was mainly gone. It had had been quite beautiful and unique to see the bay revealed bit by bit, having never been here before (perhaps there is a quiz show in this. “Where am I?” though it might be a bit heavily based on locating places with mist and finding contestants who haven’t been there before). Small pockets of mist clung to the sand and Dick was right, the view was amazing.
We found Jill and Dick up the beach and they immediately remarked on how pink I was looking. My skin was tingling in a slightly unpleasant manner. “Why didn’t you put on any sun cream?” asked Jill.
“Because it was foggy. And because you had the sun-cream and I was looking after your child.”
I had been unlucky.
The rest of the day on the beach was OK, but I was increasingly uncomfortable. By bed time I was in quite some pain.
I couldnÂ’t sleep and when I woke up I found I was not able to walk without some small degree of agony.
It was preferable to having my testicle at three times its normal size, but only just. More preferable would be one beach holiday where I wasnÂ’t injured.
Still by the end of the day I had won seventeen pounds of my nephewÂ’s hard earned pocket money. Which seemed to make my sacrifice worthwhile.
Though in my current state he could win that back quite quickly on the tennis court.
