My Travelling Misadventures

I have been called “the cleverest stupid man I have ever met” on a few occasions. This refers to the fact I am intellectually clever but when comes to simple tasks I can be pretty dumb. There are too many examples of this that would make this blog into more of a book so am sticking to some stupidity abroad stories.

A great example is my trip to my cousin Rob’s wedding in Nerja in Spain. The first schoolboy error which I also blame my parents for was not taking anyone’s mobile number. We travel to Spain and get to our destination town can’t contact any of my cousins or my uncle so we wonder into the town centre and hope to bump into them.

Well as stupid as I am I do tend to be lucky, so this master plan worked. We are stood in the centre of the town trying call one of my aunties back in London to see if she has any of their numbers when I hear my name. I spend a minute thinking im cracking up as no one looks familiar till I see my cousin having a fag on a balcony above.

Thats not the really stupid bit more an aperitif. He knows where everyone else is so we go and find the rest of the wedding party and arrange to meet that night for a meal. Now when I get together with my Irish cousins we tend to have one or two to drink. That night after the meal I went with my cousin Gerard to find the groom our cousin Rob. He was in another pub across the other side of town. I proceed to drink like a maniac, my cousin tells me by time he had had a sip I had finished and was asking who’s round is it?

Well I have always had a homing pigeon’s instinct and when I have had one to many I head home. My plan was to go back to where we ate and get a taxi with my parents to our hotel which was 5 miles away. So I wondered off into a town I had only just arrived drunkenly thinking I would find my way. Not my brightest of ideas. An hour later I am wondering the streets of a Spanish town completely lost. Cant even find either roof the pubs or the taxi rank. I am just contemplating getting my head down as is 2am and still warm.

My luckily streak got me out of a sticky spot once more as I bumped into Sally who was marrying my cousin the next day. She kindly took me to the pub and handed me over to my cousin Rob. He got me to the taxi rank and I finally got back to my hotel.

Guess had one or two too many. Next day had completely forgotten meeting Sally and was telling everyone Rob had saved my butt. Luckily she saw the funny side even though was the night before her wedding.

So lessons of the story are 1) homing pigeon doesn’t work if you are in a foreign land 2) I am a lucky SOB.