Reminds me of a song by the Who!

Cancun Airport

I like Mexican Immigration, relatively fast, effcient and the selection of people to search at customs has a touch of Las Vegas about it as you press a button on a set of traffic lights to randomly pick search or non-search. Red light bad, green light good! If you are very unlucky or particularly attractive a non-existent blue light leads to a strip search!

Recover the bags, find our rep and sort transport to the hotel. Straight there an hour all told and we've discovered where the combined expertise of the South Oxfordshire and North Lanarkshire road menders association come on holiday. The roads are concrete strips with pot holes and cunningly placed sleeping policemen. At this point I'm thanking my lucky stars that Monst forgot my licence and we can't hire a car!

We arrive at he Hotel, very posh. Manuel 3 the bell-boy grees us. I thought they they only exited in hollywood movies of the 40's.

Flying

Sunday Monst has a cunning plan, so good I've typed about it three times! She has upgraded the flights to something like Star Class Premier League Sandwich Spread Cup Class. Ether way it means that we cruise through the check-in queues an get into the security queues in double quick time. Breakfast and plane. It also means maximally attentive cabin crew. No shortage of liquid refreshment and an entertainment system that doesn't have me scurrying for a set of headphones, well for most of the trip. Does raise the question though 'Why does time disappear when you get into a thin metal tube?' Find myself with a tin of beer at an hour of the day that is patently ridiculous when I sit back and rationally think about it.

Preparation

Aaaargh! The yodelling hoover strikes back! Going away is apparently a cause for spring cleaning. OK it's late, but nobody has told the weather yet that summer has begun. Monst heads off to town with the boy. She sorted upstairs yesterday, I win downstairs today. Deep joy! Sort it but mentally whinge.

Packing is packed. Books are sorted. Need to sort the audio for the trip. Electrical devices are being charged.

Blogged with Flock

Packing

I hate socks, they come in pairs, or at least my socks start their lives off that way, I set them free, let them mingle, form new relationships, separate, get back together again. In short, my socks are swingers as far as hosiery goes. Mind you I don't investigate them too closely,what kind of a perve do you think I am? However a trip away means that Monst insists that I return them to their original relationships. Consequently I am no more familiar with the contents of my sock drawer than usual. No rough and fumble for a pair of things to keep my feet warm - no, for packing purposes the bloody things must match. Then she makes me pack a pair of brogues that hurt my feet. Apparently we have to tart ourselves up for evening scran etc.

Then there's the underwear, least said the better on that score - but the need to consider an check each item. It's indecent, thats what it is, my underwear should never be seen and certainly never heard. Everything is subject to scrutiny and approval. I'm not certain that my underwear meets the needs of either.

See clothing to me is about comfort and warmth. It used to be about making a statement about bands and venues I like, but those days are long gone. To Monst there is another agenda.....

The rest of the packing is quite smooth, other than weight concerns. My concerns are about important things like holiday reading, making sure I have the right cables to ensure that music is available on request. On the reading front there is bound to be a dispute. I will panic that I don't have enough, Monst will insist I cut in half the amount I intend to take. I am under instructions to take books Monst might read. She likes death mayhem with a po face, I only do death mayhem that has the virtue of making me laugh. I like a historical novel or even the odd history book, Monst don't.

Still look on the positive side. Most of the trousers I'm taking are new. No hassles ironing them then. Monst decides she doesn't trust me flattening clothes (don't blame her!) so I get out of a detested chore.

First Post in Ages

Lordy the trip is nearly over and this is the first time I've got near a PC. Quick round up of those I wish to read. Blog for the holiday will appear on return. I'm off to visit an Irish Pub, it has to be done as does the pint of probably foul Guinness. Suffice to say we're having an nice time but two days before we fly back to Blighty. Get to catch up on the bad sports news, bad cricket, bad footie still still just as a taster of things to come a list of sites to check out of places we've been and things we've seen: Chiang Mai International Sixes Tiger Temple Elephant Nature Thailand Wisdom Centre

Hello Mr Lizard Man

Wake early, don't want to disturb the folks so make minor adjustments to my packing (shove in a few more books), record the final disc of Shoebox Zoo on the Archos. Now for the mad panic, the quiet time after the mad panic, the boredom of hanging around waiting to travel. We leave Lime Street for Heathrow via Euston, a black cab, Paddington at 1.00.

Hello Mr Easter Bunny

My habit on arrival at work if I'm in early enough is to take the Notpod and crank out some chunes.... locals are used to it but it is always unusual when strangers stumble into the library as it goes on. A couple of suavy surgeons on their way upstairs nip in as the very chilled and lovely Richard Butler and cuningly titled album 'Richard Butler' is on. Explain what we do, why we do it, the big question they ask is will the money spent on the Shipman Enquiry make a blind bit of difference? Depressingly I suspect the answer is, no! Don't usually deal with surgery folk these days so it made a change, reminded me what I like about the stuff I do now....

Tracy calls, she ain't well. Get well soon. Back to the news and FoI I go.

Act as the Easter Bunny, dropping eggs to people. Quick bit of training in the afternoon with a DN from St Helen's who was in search of grey lit and delighted to find none! She's doing a systematic review and really aimed to cover the bases but was hoping that there was nothing to find. Glad I could oblige. Big up Katherine while she's in, dump a load of cards on her for her to share with her DN mates.

Homeward bound and the big tidy up before going away. It's the thing I hate about holidays, you pack, you tidy up, you run around daft. Still all is charged, all is packed, all is almost clean. Still on the plus side the ultimate in laziness, a curry delivered, but the forgot the rice....curses.

A Skull, A Suitcase and What Happpened to the Long Red Bottle of Wine

A day of sorting or avoiding sorting things FoI out. A few searches for speech and language therapy along the way.

Finally start the edit of the stuff we did at Faz the other day. Get sent out for easter eggs. Meant to be cleaning the house but I'm too knackered. A friday night blitz looms. Fetch a copy of 'Happy Feet' for the boy as I get the eggs.

The Curse of Not the Smoking Gnu but The Smoking Room

The Airport transfer to Disney is easly achieved but the drivers French accent don't help. I kinda catch the Pop but the Century is practically indecipherable. Still he does the job and drags us to the gaff via International Drive.

First impressions of Pop Centuy are OK, it's as kitsch as it could be and I love that with huge rubics cubes, jukebox, table footballers, yo-yo, a flower shaped pool and a bowling pin shaped pool too. The accommodation is named after decades and we having confirmed we would rather not have a smoking room and get sent to the 90's. Cal and I drag the bag over to the room while Monst books a breakfast with Lilo and Stitch (well a couple of the moth eaten rugs that pretend to be them anyway).

Pin Shaped Pool

The room smells like the inside of an ashtray to me but I don't trust my nose on such matters. We meet Monst for food that to be honest we are all far too tired to eat and I casually mention that I think I can smell smoke in the room. Monst confirms the whif of tabs in the room. So off we drag the bags to complain and to try and change rooms. All of this is compounded by the fact that this was a change of room because the one we were supposed to be in wasn't ready on arrival. No dice, too late in the day and despite being asked if we wanted a no-smoking room apparently we should have told the travel agent this. Instead we wll be moved in the morning and someone will be sent to freshen the room (a geezer turns up and sprays some sort of generic Fabreze about, a little later). The result is we head to bed at midnight all a little short-tempered with each other and unintentionally carry out the intructiosn to stay awake as long as possible. Cheers MM, really the way to do it.

I of course suffer from my usual sleep issues and at 5 am local time my brain is muttering at my body 'Get out of bed you lazy bastard', I leave the pair of them to argue it out and eventually rise bleary eyed at around 6 am when Cal succumbs to a fit of coughing. throw on some clothes, grap my resort mug which will provide access to coffee over the week, grab 'Glue' and head off to the dining area. Search for a wallet (requiring a new one having previously lost the second in a fortnight), battle with an ATM, toy with the whole Fanny Pack concept because it will amuse the folk at work and feed my holiday postcard habit. With lack of blogging work bear the brunt and replace Margaret on my daily postcard list (along with my folks, Mattie and Ashleigh).

Coffee is bearable if not great and wlcome and I read a good book and enjoy the delights of the Disney bonus that I'm not as big an FLB as I could be! Why am I tempted to buy a pirate hat? Dunno, maybe thi place is having a bigger impact than I think. Thank non-existent deities that we aren't somewhere like Butlins, I'd be entering knobbly-knee contests.

To my delight my return to the room allows me to witness a bunch of cheerleaders training (we later learn it is the UCA National High School Cheerleading Championships 2007 type thingy). I get to see enough of the old pearlies clenched in smiles to make me wanna burst out with a chorus of 'Mack the knife'. The sun is rising, the sky has wispy little clouds in it, people have bid me a good morning and I'm unwinding having vowed no work for a week for a change. I've even noticed the odd pyjama girl and wondered do they count as sightings if you see them in a hotel.

We move rooms and from the 90s head to the 50s and find ourselves next to the Bowling Pin shaped pool and the Big Jukebox in the sky, just up the way from a huge Lady and the Tramp that look like they coulda come out of an episode of the Goodies.... The Big Jukebox in the Sky

Post ablute we head to the Magic Kingdom (neither magic or a kingdom but hey, who cares!)

Bye Bye for a Bit

A week away from the daily grind begins here, unusually I decide on a total week off of work, doubt I'll be able to post from the House of Mouse. We fly from Manc and leave in 20 minutes. Frantic tidy of house as usual!

Notpod poised to avoid sacharine saturation. Good news is the new bank card arrived today!