Memoirs of Travelling Wapshare - Part Three

So, a few years ago myself and my friend Laura went away to Corfu for a week. I worked at Boots with Laura for three years and we became inseparable "terrible twins"; whenever we were together at work we would be found in fits of laughter either singing about customers, sticking our noses in shampoo, or reminiscing some crazy night out we had recently had...

From start to finish we laughed and giggled and it's no surprise that a week in Corfu with Laura was one of the best weeks of my life.

I really should have asked Laura to tell the story of this week for me, as she has a much better memory and I am sure she remembers much more of it. But, there are three specific parts of the week I would like to share with you.

1. Fortis

 In hindsight, the "Fortis" story is actually slightly worrying and tells you about a rather creepy man who created a lot of laughs for us. I cannot successfully describe this in words as I should have done this years ago...

We went for a walk to find a lovely place to eat on our first night. The waiter quickly came to introduce himself: "Fortis" and he showed us to our table. How to describe Fortis? A tall Greek man, probably in his late "fortis" (yes I remember us making that terrible joke between ourselves). The food was delicious that night, and despite Fortis being slightly strange we really enjoyed eating at his restaurant. As a result of that, we decided to return a few nights later. Only this time he was a little more "forward" asking us questions about where "beautiful girls" like us would be going on a night like that; where were we staying- stupidly we told him- luckily we realised that was silly in time to not tell him, when he asked a moment later,  which room we were staying in. Nonetheless, Fortis continued to tell us that he would climb over our balcony when he finished work that night and he would bring with him a bottle of wine... we found this as funny as you probably now find this strange and worrying... The funny thing is, I am giggling this as I type... Remembering Laura make a strange squeal when we were in our hotel room later that night... It was in response to some noise coming from the balcony... that we both thought for a moment could have been Fortis... Luckily it wasn't... and we had a safe night sleep, even if we did lock the balcony door and slept in a room far too hot. Safety first and all that.

On our last night we decided that we would take Suzanne, (a lovely girl we met from our resort) for dinner at Fortis' restaurant. We thought that it would make us laugh, and sure enough... yes it did.

Firstly, when we arrived Fortis told us that he would take us to his favourite table, "69". We didn't realise the foul joke implied here at first. It wasn't until he asked our new friend her age (she wasn't actually 18 but we said she was so she could drink), and we then in response asked his age: "69". He continued all night to fit in the words "69" at any given opportunity. We were in fits of laughter amongst the disgust that a man the same age as our fathers was speaking to us in such a foul way. Even so, we had a lovely dinner, and left- never to see Fortis again. I don't even have a photo of him, so here is a photo of Laura's meal there one night.

2. Beach Bliss to Festival Fury

It was about half way through our holiday, and we decided to buy ourselves some picnic food and take a wonder to the beach. We were pleasantly surprised when we arrived, as the beach was EMPTY, like not a soul to be seen. So we picked a pair of sun loungers with an umbrella (as Laura's fair skin was beginning to complain) and we set up camp. 

We read our books.

We ate our picnic.

I think we then fell asleep, or we were reading our books or something, anyway, the next time we looked up at our empty beach, it was far from empty- there was some kind of event going on. All of the sun loungers had been piled up and moved away- apart from our own. And there were men (in very minimal swimpants) and women literally right next to us. Now I'm not talking a meter or two away. I mean, I couldn't get off my sun lounger without nearly stepping on the woman next to me. At first we just giggled in disbelief. We had no idea what was going on, and there were more people coming, they were carrying flags and it was clearly an organised event- that we clearly were not supposed to be at... Eventually we managed to pull our giggles together and escape the beach, as quickly as possible with as little interaction with the strange festival as possible. Below is a photo of each us once we had managed to get back to our hotel in one piece. You can see that we were both crying with laughter whilst telling this story back. Such a wonderful memory. I really cannot give it any justice.

3. Wardrobe

This is probably one of my all time favourite memories of all time. 

It was our last day, our transfer bus didn't leave until 11pm but we had to check out of our room at 10am. How frustrating. The crabby hotel rep (who we had named "Nicorette" because she yelled at people for smoking, and she was extremely grumpy- as if she was quitting smoking) had instructed us that we must leave our bags in the hotel lobby for the day. So that's what we did. 

Anyway, friends of ours had said that if we would feel safer then we could pop our bags into their room... We thought this was a great idea and went to retrieve our ba-"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!?!" Yells a familiar voice, Ah yes of course- it's Nicorette. She tells us that as we are no longer staying at the hotel our stuff is not allowed to go in any other hotel room and it must remain in the lobby. We abandoned the plan of moving our bags and returned to the pool.

We enjoyed the day lying by the pool messing around with our new friends. Then it comes to time to shower, and we had been told by Nicorette that we could pay to use the hotel's public showers. However our friend Stella had suggested we showered in her hotel room. Aware that Nicorrette would not allow this, we had to sneak up to their hotel and hide, so that we weren't spotted. 

Now we get to my favourite part of the story. Nicorette is snooping about by the pool, and it becomes obvious that she is looking for Laura and I, yet she can't find us. Next thing you know, there's a knock on the door... Stella quickly opens her wardobe door and tells us to hide!!!!!! So we did, and we listened to the rest unfold.

A cleaner came in to the room, and Stella told us that she looked around the room, behind doors, under the beds, asking questions... Looking for us. All the while we were trapped inside the wardrobe, you know that feeling of hide and seek when you realise you are breathing loudly... I was struggling so much to hold in my laughter... I heard a door close... Next thing Stella opens the wardrobe door and takes the following photo:

So the picture above, is the exact moment when the door was opened. When the relief flooded in that we hadn't been "caught"; when we were able to laugh the laugh that we had stifled for the whole time the cleaner was snooping around. It was a truly wonderful moment. 

Just like the entire week. That photo, for me, sums up Laura and I as a pair.

Memoirs of a Travelling Wapshare - Part 2

So, I should now explain to you that my Dad was born in the USA while his mum was on holiday... he has lived in the UK his entire life, yet he still to this day has an American passport. This has been with the idea that if we ever wanted to move to America then we could; obviously... this is yet to happen. So the American Passport has actually proven itself to be more of a disadvantage than an advantage.

This takes me on to the story for today, which was a lovely family holiday to Spain, just last summer.

It was another last minute plan. Toby, my youngest brother was in Portugal with his friends, and was flying in to Alicante the day after we arrived. My mum, dad, Theo (my other younger brother) and myself were to fly to Girona, pick up a hire car and drive alllllllll the way down to our chalet- which was in beautiful Calpe (about an 8 hour drive).

Anyway, we're all at the airport, and it's stupid o'clock in the morning, we are waiting to board the plane. I did the online check in before we left the house, which meant that it was an easier airport visit than normal. However I did inform my Dad (and entire family) that because of his American passport he would need to get his boarding pass stamped before he could fly. For some reason, totally unbeknown to me... nobody either believed or agreed with me. "Why would he need to get it stamped if he has never had to before" etc etc.

Well, I don't know why. But I do know that once the lady took one look at his boarding pass and passport, he was told that he would not be able to board the plane. She refused to let him run back through just to get it stamped, or to stamp it herself... instead we were told that Theo, Mum and myself must choose to either board the plane now or not at all and that under no circumstances would Dad fly now.

After a little deliberation, Dad told us to get on the plane and that he would work it out and meet us there. So, a teary eyed mum, an annoyed Theo, and an "I-told-you-so" Jess boarded the plane. Whilst my Dad was escorted out of the airport as if he was smuggling something that ticked quite loudly in his pocket. Quite a nice and quick flight. Next thing you know we've landed and I have a text message from my Dad saying something along the lines of:

Jessie, there were no more flights to Girona today, so I have booked a flight to Barcelona, I will land at 10:30am Spanish time, and if you feel comfortable then meet the car hire man and collect the car and drive down to pick me up. If you don't feel comfortable then don't worry- I will get the train to Girona. Enjoy your first morning of the holiday- and please drive very safely. xxx

So, following these instructions, that's what I did. I'd never driven on the "wrong side of the road" before so it was quite an exciting experience. Not to mention the fact that we got to Barcelona airport before my Dad had even landed- okay, so we did get lost and there was some shouting and screaming between me and Theo, but on the most part, he was a fantastic navigator; mum, a great passenger and me, well a great driver (hah).

Once reunited with Dad, we continued the drive down to Calpe, collected Toby the next day and went on to have a wonderful holiday. And Dad even managed to fly all the way home without any problems... well, kind of! But that's for another day!

Thanks for reading!
Jessie x

Memoirs of a Travelling Wapshare- Part One

Hi there! Welcome to the first chapter of my collection of short stories "Memoirs of a Travelling Wapshare". Travelling as a member of my family seems to come hand in hand with some kind of mis-hap or another. I truly hope you enjoy hearing about these unfortunate occurrences.

PART ONE

"BEEP... BEEP... BEEEP" chimes the school bell, and it's the last day of school before the February half-term. That familiar buzz of relief amongst everyone, teachers and children alike. I get the school bus home, with no particular plans for the holidays, all I knew was that I was thrilled to have a week off school. As I approach my house I can see my dad balancing on the side of our car, arguing with an unresponsive roofbox. Next thing you know, my Dad jumps down and he rubs his hands together (this is the only sign of excitement my Dad shows) telling us we are going skiing and that we leave in half an hour! Half an hour..... WHAT?!!? But oh my god- yes, skiing!!! 

And now for the madness that rushes through any home before a holiday- where's the passports? have you done the insurance? who has the key for the chalet? the directions? The only difference here is that we had half an hour to do the "holiday prep"that some people may do weeks before departure- not if you're a Wapshare. No, no.

Everyone sorted? Seat belts on? LETS GO! And the journey begins, we're off to Switzerland, never been skiing there before- how very exciting. Although, that means a veryyyyy long time in the car. Oh, well. It's in the Sat Nav... we'll be there before we know it. In fact- we have two sat navs- one that the landlord lent us and one built in to the car... We'll be fine.

Or will we? After driving along French motorways for what felt like an eternity we pulled over at a service station. I thought that I would have a look at the Sat Nav to see how far we have to go, with which (don't ask me why) I decided to take the memory card out of the back... I mean, I put it back straight away, but that was already too late. For some reason, apparently if you take a memory card out of a Sat Nav then it has the same effect as a Factory Reset. Uh oh... I've lost all of the information- och- it's fine, at least we have our own sat-nav... phew, that was a close one!

We seemed to be making quite good progress. The Sat Nav finally announces, "take the next exit" and we all begin to feel slightly revived at the thought of nearly being there and no longer being stuffed in to the confines of this car.

After driving along Swiss side roads for what seems like an eternity (approx. 3 hours) we begin to feel as if we are going in circles- I recognise that tree- I recognise that shop- Hey, I'm sure we have been here before. So we pull over and go in to a shop to purchase a trustworthy map. Whilst doing this, my mum this time, decided to have a fiddle with the Sat Nav, and this time- we find out that the reason for our "countryside detour" was the settings on the machine being "AVOID MOTORWAYS AND TOLL ROADS"...............

With this easily corrected, we found our way back to the main road, and we eventually arrived at our destination. Ah, bliss.