Holiday Drinking

Its 5.30 am, the airport is silent. You wander aimlessly around the deserted expanse of the quiet hollowness that has not yet awoken to the freshness of the dawn. Its almost like the world has become still and the grand halls are not alive as the empty que-barriers remain un-moved. You see a Green & white travel tag littered on the marble-tile and you begin to get a sense of the person to whom it belonged; Yes it was a 'he', you sense he was angry, very angry. Upon inspecting the now-rubbish bag-identifier you imagine him tearing it from his case in pure rage because customs wouldnt let him keep the 14 kilo's of un-declared horse tranquilizer that was stuffed up his rectum encased in ping pong balls... Suddenly you see a ghost of this man in front of you that neither the camera nor any other person watching the program can see (how convenient). Anyway, you're all set for your sun holiday to Greece. Yourself and your wingman are trying to kill some time until the airport bar opens at 6am so by now you've bought stale breakfast for 26EURO, a pre-packed chicken and stuffing sandwich that tastes like a bridgestone tyre and bought a book with the intention of reading on the plane that you know, you are never going to open. But not to worry because your patience has served you well as you see the waiter unlocking the doors. As if being chased by Kathy Bates from the film adaptation of Stephen Kings 'Misery', you both hurtle towards the pub with such velocity that you run straight through the glass and trample the poor guy to death ( he never stood a chance wearing that baseball cap and apron to be fair). Next thing you know, its 6.47am and you're having so much fun on your pre-holiday buzz that you just barely hear your third and final boarding call. Why does that happen? Is it just because we are Irish? I mean, I would have been glad to sit there and miss my plane - I hadnt laughed that much in months. Anyway, you're on the plane and you continue to drink like maniacs. Why o why is it that when we go on foreign holidays that the only thing on our minds is alcohol!? More and more drink is consumed on the plane and because our friend Dutch courage has set in, the common worry of the plane crashing is no longer an issue and you've reserved yourself to the fact that if the plane should in fact crash; 'your time has come, if your time has come'. Furthermore you have no quams in doing something like screaming 'THERES A BOMB ON THE PLANE!' - trust me its not worth it. You land, drop your suitcase off at the apartment block and BOOM!... LETS GET PISSSSSSED!!!! You're straight over to the pool bar for a nice 9am cocktail. After a dozen or so of these together with a multitude of free shots you decide its time to eat. Off to sample the Greek cuisine. After dinner you have a nap and you wake up in a cold sweat worrying about the valuable 'drinking time' you have eaten into. 'Drinking time' - the time portionate to the point where last orders can be made - but you calm yourself knowing that there is no such thing in places like this - its 24 hours all day every day. But the real damage occurs when you hit 'the strip'. Once darkness falls every living creature on the Island undertakes a metamorphosis that is as insane as the time Bjork attacked a reporter in Thailand for just saying hello to her. But of course not in an angry way; EVERYONE JUST GOES BERSERK! To make matters worse there are people out on the streets trying to recruit you into their pub by goading you in with free alcohol; heavenly at the time but hellish when you wake up the next morning in a 50 degree heat hangover. By the way, whats the deal with the super-human drinking powers you get when on a foreign holiday? If I drank a quarter of the alcohol on a night out at home, as I do on a night out while on vacation; I would most likely be arrested before midnight for something outrageous like pushing someone into the river liffey purely 'for the craic'. Yet on holidays I can drink a rainbow of shots and cocktails and not only feel great, but actually recognise and consciously decide not to mount the rhino in the mini-skirt that has been trying to charge me all evening. Dont get me started on the energy levels, sweet mother of LORD! I have so much energy on holidays that I feel like I have just decapitated a Highlander and I've subsequently been electrocuted by forked lightning all before I have screamed; 'THERE CAN BE ONLY ONNNNNNNNNNE!'. Is it just the knowing that we dont have work for 2 weeks that breathes the life back into our labour drained bodies? I mean a holiday is meant to cleanse the body and mind - I suppose the definition would refer to a relaxing period of time however in most foreign holiday situations, especially with younger people; a second holiday is required to recover from the first one. By God there is something outworldly about sitting on a balcony with the sun on your face, supping on an ice cold beer - not a worry in the world or a cloud in the sky.... A shame really that you will later find out that you have gotten skin cancer from exposing the mole on your neck to such blazing ultraviolet rays and you only have 6months to live... Not to worry though because you know you're going to be drinking out of a fishbowl later that evening and more than likely laughing at someones misfortune; usually some girl who thinks shes hotter than Megan Fox while shes physically on fire, fits that bill as she dances on the bar as if rehearsing for the sequel to 'Coyote Ugly' entitled 'Coyote Ugly 2; This time, we mean it'- I mean are some people (men especially) just born with the preconceived idea that they are Gods gift? Im telling you, if Gods perogative was to give everyone gifts then he wouldnt have given me the perfect 20/20 vision I have to stare at such dillusional arsiths. (Arsiths - Deco'sim - it is a mix between arsehole and bitch. This allows me to cover both male and female in one word while avoiding any prejudice). Another thing; why do we act like everyones best friend on holidays? Is it just the buzz? Or is it the buzz mixed with the alcohol? Mixing the emotions that go through your mind while sending drunk texts with the strong cocktail of your holiday can only result in you, standing at some bar that is made out of wicker, telling a stranger that they are the soundest person you've ever met - and the funny thing is, your ship will sink with that fond memory; but why can't we do this at home? ALCOLOR shall be the villianous name that I will give to alcohol! Sorry that was random BUT SO WHAT, it just stuck me... I suppose the plus side to losing yourself in drink while on holiday is that you are more than likely consistently drunk and you will never have a full hangover before you begin to drink again the next day. But beg yourself this question, could you go on 2 week sun holiday with a group of the lads or girls and NOT drink? Put it this way, its a good thing I dont have any sun holidays planned between now and Christmas Eve 2009!

Bottomline 11: Ask yourself 'Is this just one giant 3K hangover, or do I want more out of it?'

Next Post: Alcolor and his minions

Slan mo Chara,

Deco