Some amusement, misery, pain, degredation and the like...
Many holidays have scarred me deeply. (I make no apologies about the length, this is carthartic for me, the pain...)

The first stay over school trip (Year seven) I went on was a nightmare. My parents had only given me a fiver to spend for the whole week so I ran out of money pretty damn fast. Also, at that time, I was a total little loser geek child at the time, and prone to outbursts of tears. Of course, the school being oh so clever, I was put in a room with several of the school bullies. Much un-amusement occurs, including severe weeping on the first day that even made the bullies stop hitting me and squirting toothpaste in my ears.

Next school trip (year 8) was much better, as I'd sorted myself out somewhat. Unfortunately, this was an outward bound type affair in the Lake District. Not being the most adventurous type at the time, I was pleased with myself that I'd done loads of cool stuff. The abseiling day should have been a piece of piss. However, I managed to totally miss the start point of the abseil when it was my turn and wander off on some little path in the middle of nowhere. I then slipped down a scree path and hurt my ankle. Spin on 10 minutes to find the instructors running around in panic shouting my name, to find me in tears at the bottom of a hill. Did the already non-existent street cred no good whatsoever....

Spin on about 10 years, and I go on a road trip around the UK and Ireland. All was great, until one night when we camp out at Much Wenlock in a nice campsite. All is good, a fun night of wine drinking and cards by torch light, until the middle aged couple in the next tent over begin to have their fun. Hmm. S&M will never be fun for me no matter how hard I try, the image is too nasty in my brain, fat old people spanking each other is just not pleasant. "Ohhh, yeah, thats good, you're a bad boy arent you?"

Finally, my last holiday was a 3 week journey across Russia from Moscow to Vladivostock by train and then flying to St Petersburg. It was the best holiday I've ever had, except for one section at Lake Baikal. The guidebook suggested that this was the one place in Russia you could drink the water. Hmm. The words "explosive" and "diahhrea" spring to mind. In a latrine. That stank of my previous diahhrea. I felt so sick by the stench and the churning of my guts, I couldnt do any of the walks that we were going to do in the region, and also crapped myself once whilst sitting and resting. Still, memories eh?

Apologies for length again, but I have to get it out of my head somehow.... bye now.
(Jonny Googs, Tue 26 Apr 2005, 22:23, Reply)