Honeymoon in Grenada
Having married Mrs. Evil after many years of unwedded bliss, the day after our nuptuals I managed to badly sprain my ankle by falling out of a pub.
We duly went on honeymoon to the spice isle of Grenada, which had then suffered the knock-on effect of a passing hurricane (not last year's which completely wrecked the island), the waves from which had wrecked the harbour and stirred up all kinds of sand and other shit.
One of the reasons we'd chosen the hotel was its diving school and we wanted to do a PADI course but with near zero visibility under water, it wasn't even worth snorkelling.
So Mrs. Evil books us on a rain forest walk. Fine, I just thought it would be an easy walk with well-defined paths.
Oh no. Far too simple.
It ends up as a 5 mile hike, up and down, clinging on to roots to stop from sliding down ravines into mud. I was put to shame by a retired Scottish couple who were like mountain goats compared to me and the Mrs.
The result was my ankle ballooned up, went purple and I could hardly walk for the rest of the trip.
And I lost my wallet.
(Doctor Evil, Wed 27 Apr 2005, 10:44, Reply)