The Tache

It was dark, and there was a cold wind blowing from a southerly direction. The kind of morning that reminds you of how warm your bed is. There was no joy in waking up at 4.30am deliberately, as opposed to the usual reason of one of the cherubs crying. For a change, both of them were fast asleep dreaming of milk and Iggle Piggle.

I took my morning ablutions in silence, and crept downstairs with my bag. As I left my front door, I took a one last look back to mentally etch the image in my mind, and then moved on with a heavy heart.

I was not leaving home for good, only for 4 days, but it felt as though I was abandoning everybody. But as I moved to the waiting car, my heart lifted as if a thousand birds were carrying it. If I did not know that Heath Ledger was dead then I may have fallen into the presumption that he had hired a Ford Focus and was sat outside my house.

Ian had agreed, to pick me up, the night before and thank god he did. If I looked anything like this cowboy now then it would have been a long journey to North Manchester in the taxi. He was wearing the hat that I have on in the picture to the left, also sporting a similar tache. As we headed off it must have looked like a Brokeback Mountain version of Thelma and Louise. Or a really dodgy American Cop show from the 1970’s that was never aired due to the sensitive nature of facial hair.

It became worse when we all met up and at least 7 people had also made the effort of growing the mudguard. We started to resemble a Deep South Bluegrass convention, and I don’t mean Devon. Liverpool Airport was under no illusion that we were to be messed with, and the drinking began at a time when I would normally be eating my Frosties. It then stayed at a consistent rate for the next 4 days, and so this is where my detailed commentary dries up.

It was hot in Valencia, Spanish, and expensive due to the strong Euro. For all else you can use your imagination. It was a stag party of 16, mostly from Salford, with no agenda apart from two football matches on different days.

Damien was the perfect roommate. I saw him for some time in the afternoon, and the rest of the time was when I woke up and would see him lying face down on his bed with all of his clothes on and shoes. He also had some good news regarding his current contract and a possible get out clause. So fingers crossed that one day he can achieve what he deserves.

Ian enjoyed himself and it was not awkward that his future Father-in-law was there too. I’m looking forward to the wedding now so that we can all meet up, and have that knowing look to each other that you get when you’ve been away and have stories between yourselves. Like war veterans but a bit nicer and nobody died.

There was one injury though, as one of the party broke his ankle on the last night and had to get a cast in a Spanish Hospital. We then cut the cast off before getting on the plane back home, which caused a lot of amusement for us, and not much for him.

This week I will be travelling to Philadelphia with work, more specifically Wilmington. I will be there for 3 days and travelling for 2. So hopefully I will have some more interesting tales to write about in next week’s instalment. If I’d have kept the tache then there would have been a possibility of looking like an American.

Yee Ha!!!!