WINDIES DIARY 2013 PART NINE

DAY 16 THE ROOKIE'S TALE.

For our travelling companion Merlin, it's his first holiday outside of Europe. He is usually found during the summer, skulking around Gothenburg looking for somewhere to park his Volvo, and no, at the age of 61, I don't think that is a euphemism. Anyway, last year we talked him into coming on this trip with us and now we are sitting at St. Vincent airport at the mercy of Liat Air once again, waiting for our flight to Barbados which is over three hours late but par for the Liat course I am afraid. Merlin sits next to me reading a Mills And Boon novel he stole from our Hotel on Mayreau. He's nearly finished it and when I asked him why the hell he was reading it in the first case he replied 'in case there are any sexy bits' but he's still waiting after over 300 gormless pages. I can hear reggae music filtering out of his headphones and some time ago he stuck one earphone into my ear revealing that it was Jo Gibbs and The Professionals. A fine choice.

Merlin adapted quickly to life here. One of the first techniques he learned was 'liming' referred to in a previous blog. He seemed glad to learn of it for he has done nothing else. If a walk is suggested at any time now he responds to the suggestion as if  missing a leg. He has had all food served to him whether in a restaurant, hotel or indeed at Rosehall where my lovely wife waited on him hand an foot. Yesterday I went down to the kitchen for a beer and she said 'what about Merlin?'. My reply was not complimentary. As you may know, Merlin doesn't drink. So he has found a new favourite here, quite appropriate really as its a beverage that goes by the name of 'Hairoun Lemon and Lime.' I think he did it on purpose

However, the trip has not been without superlative rookie moments. The greatest of these was the
spectacular  failure to apply any sunscreen whatsoever when snorkelling under the blazing sun in The Tobago Cays. This has also been written about before. He may just have wrapped himself in silver foil to complete the job properly. I am worried now as the last thing his eldest said to me was 'look after dad'. God knows I have tried but I let my guard down just once and look what happened. The sunburn also meant of course that he was unable to carry his rucksack and with her words ringing in my ears I was forced to do a pretty good impression of a Himalayan Sherpa for a couple of days. But of course I was always plotting revenge as I staggered under the weight of God knows what in that rucksack.

It arrived upon our own arrival at Rosehall. As I have mentioned before Cousin Elwyn lives in the house in which we were staying. Now Elwyn speaks English but it is as unintelligible as the public address announcer at this bloody airport. Even less so to the ear of someone from Sweden. I promise you I am not exaggerating. To strike up a conversation with him is akin to doing so with Donald Duck. It's patois of course and If you ask any kind of question you are doomed. All you can do is nod generally and given that you don't know what he is saying, he's definitely having he last laugh.

So I did the equivalent of the 'farting in the lift gag'. If you are too well brought up to know what that is it goes like this: apparently you wait until you are in a lift with a group of people, preferably, but not always, mates and you make sure they are going to a higher floor than you (going up) or lower (going down). Not long after you step in, calculating release time carefully, you step out on your floor leaving them with a present of your own making. The ensuing screams, curses and swearing are a joy to hear from both inside the shaft and usually from the next available landing above or below. Basically you leave the unprepared with a ticking time bomb.
     'So Cousin Elwyn, this is Merlin, he's really interested in your opinion on people who sit around all day liming' (he thinks they are no good, lazy and a burden on society). Cue my hasty departure leaving Merlin to either nod or shake his head in all the wrong places. Later that day I actually caught Elwyn trying to start a conversation with Merlin all on his own, for his own amusement no doubt!

Generally the boy has done real good and as we sit here for a plane now four hours late he remains cheerful with Big Youth now for company. Me, I feel a sense of impending doom. A Virgin might not be waiting for us in the next port if this goes on any longer.