After a Week of Flunking and Bunking School...

You can't beat a night round the table outside, with some wine, some candles and some chat.

When I was 17 I was on holiday with my mum and dad. My last holiday with them. I had been dreading it. Mum worked part time in a travel agents, and had booked it all bit by bit. Phoned the hotel and booked the room, directly with the hotel. We were booked in a family room. Me, mum and dad in one room. Oh Joy.

Our flight was delayed, and we arrived late. We didn't have a travel agent arranging transfer, so we grabbed a taxi, and Dad, in his best spanglaish, said "HOTEL ZALOX, PUNTA PRIMA, P U N T A P R I M A". The taxi driver shook his head denying silently that he was deaf, and pointed into the taxi.

We arrived at the hotel, and disaster struck.

Because the flight had been delayed, and no travel agent had been able to advise the hotel differently, they assumed we weren't coming. They were really sorry..... all they had to offer us was ..... A PRIVATE VILLA!!!! Yay hay....

Off to Private villa. Two Bedrooms, living room, kitchen, bathroom. That'll do for me.

We had a brilliant fortnight, drinking cheap rum, eating steak sandwiches on the beach, getting burnt, and playing cards, laughing at the montgomeries.

One night, at the hotel, after dinner, we were sitting around drinking cocktails and chatting, life, love, futures. Mum declared. "Don't do anything silly while you are young". We want you to marry a virgin.

"Jesus Christ, mum, I'm not running around asking guys if they are virgins".