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Off on Holiday

YAFOOEY!  :: 15 :: POETRY

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Off on Holiday

Post by P on Sun Oct 12, 2014 6:18 am

There seem to be some common threads when we go on holiday, so this is a bit of a composite:

Off On Holiday.

By P

unless you don't like it,
in which case my name's "Dell Duval"!
(sorry, no complaints!
Yesterday was the last day for complaints).

;-)

I'm not usually up this early,
Well, almost never,
Truth to tell.
But we're off on holiday today.

The Taxi was late (again).
Isn't it always?
What don't they underdsand about 4.30(am!)?
!!!!
But we've made it to the pick up
And we've got all our bags,
And the supplies for our journey.
Buns, Check.
Really smelley!
(fresh last week).
(that'll get 'em going!).
Drinks, Check, adequate,
But nothing exciting,
(just like the Hotel bar!)
Sweets, check, you know, the ones with the annoyingly loud wrappers.
At least it'll keep our driver awake as the miles roll on.
Wet wipes, check, not as wet as they once were
(still they are 3 years old).
Oh, and the ear-plugs, most important!
They'll all be chattering like excited children on the coach!
And all I want to do is sleep.
Well it is still dark.

Here's the coach now!
Lit up like a mobile Christmas tree.
Full of empty seats.
(almost)
Full of fuel.
Full of anticipation.

You wait.
13 hours journey time!
It'll be a different story tonight,
They'll all be snoring by the time we arrive,
Thundering down the Inversnade Highway
(unlit).
Passed the mirror surfaced loch.

I'll wait until it gets light before I surface.
Then I can watch the countryside go by,
Mellowing as we travel North.
Chilling out.
Relaxing.
Giant wheels eating up the motorway miles.

But we still have more pickups to do.
Gliding to a halt
In darkened Cotswold villages
With unlit windows.
Sleeping populations,
Silent and still.
(perhaps this is where the taxi drivers live?)
Then moving on, empty seats filled.
The weeks luggage stowed below.
Bulging at the seams.

The long wait
At Yate.
[no, no, no! A ryme! It just slipped in when I was looking the other way!
Naughty, naughty!
Still, could be worse!
I am ad - verse]

Someone's forgotten their case
And had to go back.
No problem, the schedule's wrong
And we've got loads of time here
(nearly all day in fact).

Strencham, at last.

A nice enough stop, but overly extended considering that we have a fresh driver and it doesn't take an hour and a half to get a cup of coffee, go round Smiths (again), and visit the loo (even for the ladies!)

Time to swap to our tour driver,
Refreshed by an overnight stop
And a late start.

They're in for a long drive today though.
I don't know how they do it,
Week after week.
At least it's light now,
Even if it is raining.

Now the holiday really starts in earnest.
And off we go!
Service station hopping all the way to Scotland.
It's going to be a long day.

My fellow travelers are a typical bunch.

There's the lady a couple of rows back,
The one with the annoyingly LOUD VOICE!
She hasn't stopped talking in the last 4 hours.
I don't know how she does it,
Defying the laws of physics.
(and of decency!)
Must breathe through her ears I suppose.
She's "talking" to her friend in the row behind.
(still facing forward).
I'll never understand why they don't sit together,
Her husband must be deaf!
(at least in one ear).
And I'm not even sure her friend is listening!
(I'm not absolutely sure her friend is even still alive!)
Thank goodness for those ear-plugs!

Then there's the lady across the isle,
Giving her friend a running commentry.
Why?
She repeats everything four times
It gets a bit wearing after a while.
It gets a bit wearing after a while.
It gets a bit wearing after a while.
It gets a bit wearing after a while.
Every sign,
Every notice,
Every animal,
Every Tesco's we pass.
I reseat my ear-plugs
FIRMLY!

Then there's the young woman directly behind me.
The one youngster amongst us geriatrics,
"a young deer"
(but not all that young!).
Obviously an Abba fan!
(gives you some idea!)
With earpieces glued in place
(secured with 6" nails?)
The drivers informative highlights are lost on her.
All I can hear is "dush, dush, dush, dush"
She's by herself
(I wonder why?).
She's not going to be back on time, I know,
From Smiths, and the loo.
Living in her own little world.
Oblivious to the driver's mandatory instructions.
(was that 2.30 or 3?)

There's a couple at the front,
Seen better days.
She's in a chair,
Took 10 minutes to get her on,
What a struggle.
It'll take them ages when we stop
(note to self: must try to get off before they stand or we'll be stuck here all day).
They still hold hands though.

Then there's Mr. Precocious,
Used to be a coach driver himself
(20 years ago)
Our driver listens politely
Looking bored
Yes they do know how to drive a coach, they do it all day!
(and their name isn't DRIV !)

And the woman who is always complaining.
Too hot,
Too cold!
Too loud,
Too quiet!
Too short,
Too long!
Too little,
Too much!
(I'll say. Far, far too much!).

The rest are more like us.
After 40 years together they speak a different language.
Silent syllables,
Constantly.
A cough.
A grunt.
A glance.
A sigh.
A touch.
A snore
(A snore! Who me? No!
Just checking the inside of my eyelids) (again).
Body language.
Synchronised lives.
Synchronised thoughts.
Perfectly in tune.

More women than men,
Again.
(can't see the chap next to the loud woman lasting the week!)
And a couple of the other blokes look a bit shaky too.
Hope they've brought their meds!
Still, the hotel bar should perk them up.

I hope everyone's well
(relatively speaking).
Nothing infectious!
Nothing contagious!
No touching
(just in case)
Though that lady back there does have a terrible cough!
Hacking constantly,
And holding her sides
Arms crossed.

No NHS hospital viruses onboard?
Guests bringing hidden cargo,
Imported into Scotland,
Unanounced,
Unseen.
Unwanted!
Concealed about their person.
Otherwise they'll be disappearing
In ones and twos.
Quarantined in their rooms.
Segregated.
Eating alone.
Banned from the tour.
Deep cleaned and polished.
Sterilised.
Served by hotel staff in paper suits,
With full facemasks,
With gloves,
And goggles!
(and long pointy sticks?)

Or buried in the woods
Behind the hotel,
In shallow graves.
(Well that's my theory).

Onward we go!

Not Frankley Services, No!
No, thank goodness.
Seen better days, yes!
(yes, in the sixties).
Now receeding in the distance,
Unloved,
Unmissed,
Unvisited.
(except by those who run out of hours,
Completely tachoed).

Onward!
Now the fogs come down.
Lights blinking in the gloom.
On we go,
Our driver unconcerned
(or are they just asleep?
Autopilot engaged!)

And now the roadworks.
Speeds checked averagely
From metal poles
By cinematic vultures
Waiting to swoop
On the unwary driver.
Mile after mile
Of regimented cones.
(some crushed beyond recognition)
With absent workers,
Working absently
(from home?
Or bed?)

Onward!

Charnock Richard.
Not today.

Onward!

Lancaster Services.
A lost airport
Without planes,
Without runways,
And precious little parking.

Onward!

Moffat.
The tattood shop assistant
In the whiskey shop
Pours me a sample
Of Glen Sclerosis.
She smiles,
Hopefully
(Commission in mind?)
I smile back as I down the micro shot
Knowing that my English pounds
Stay with me.
At least until I get to Sainsburys
(or the Pitlochry off-licence).

Onward!
Again.
Mile upon mile.

Hamilton.
Toilets and Smiths.
At least now we have full tanks again,
Fueled up
After the depletions of the day.

Last leg.

Is the hotel in sight yet?
Almost
(well actually nowhere near).
We may have been in Scotland since Gretna,
But Loch Lomond is NOT concealed in the darkness outside.
Shimmering seductively,
Silently.
Waters gently lapping
Against the Arklet side
In the moonlight.
In fact its pitch black!

Now the roads are narrower.
Our driver confident
Turns the wheel
This way and that.
I haven seen any cars for ages now.
No unexpected encounter slowing our progress.

I'll be glad when we reach this Inversnaid highway
I've heard so much about.
"Voted Scotlands best highway"

(?)

Farm track more like!
Little more than our coach width.
(or less!)
Our lumbering leviathan
Filling the road
Ferry lift on full reach.

There's the hotel
AT LAST
With welcome light,
Open armed,
Beckoning us in for dinner

(and not before time!)

The short welcoming speech,
(is that a Scotish accent?)
Lost guests in search of rooms,
(lost luggage in search of guests)

Found.

All resolved at last.
Completion!

NOW. Where's the bar?
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P
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Re: Off on Holiday

Post by Breezey Breezey on Mon Oct 13, 2014 8:42 am

What a read! lol

When are you going to write a book?  gold stars

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Re: Off on Holiday

Post by P on Mon Oct 13, 2014 9:16 am

Ive already sent a copy of the storybook to Lorry for her granchildren, if its not in the box with all the other stuff. Im not sure, she may have needed to edit it somewhat.

toilet reading

Now you see why the Church Magazine doesnt publish it all (although I think the editor is desperate for material).
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Re: Off on Holiday

Post by Breezey Breezey on Thu Oct 16, 2014 9:51 am

I see.... so.... Lorry has one?  lollipop

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Re: Off on Holiday

Post by P on Thu Oct 16, 2014 11:22 am

Your welcome to one if you like Norse myths! It rather depends on how young the children in the family are.



toilet reading
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Re: Off on Holiday

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