Day 4 is absolutely crucial for the holiday tan. It's imperative you get it right. Get it wrong and you'll look like the Singing Detective. Get it right and you'll be doing David Dickinson proud. It's crucial.
It's the day that separates the men from the boys. When high factor suntan cream is discarded, in fact all sun tan cream, i mean that's for pussies right? What do doctors know anyway. Slowly boil in the sun, before turning 50 shades of pink, then have a lovely relaxing scrub massage in the evening to chill. AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!
No, after a short while on the factor 10, it will soon be time for tanning oil on day 5, before rubbing in lard and goose fat on day 6 and 7. Professional tanners will of course have their own techniques, but mine is neither tried or trusted. The aim is of course to look like you blend into your brown leather jacket. A tan so deep that people expect you to sing Julio Inglesias numbers & do Bargain Hunt. My favourite thing about Dickinson is he tends to wear beige suits, so he just blends into one colour. If you face is the colour of your belt then you've achieved your goal.
It's sodding hot today. 36 degrees. The plan is to do.........nowt. Suits me. Young un has injured her knee, so instead of running and writing, my morning was spent taking her to the local hospital. It was amazing. 3 minute wait for x ray, 5 min wait for doctor. The whole thing took 1 hour, luckily no damage, just a sprain. But a painless hospital experience none, the less.
I enjoyed my broken English conversation with Semet, the lunatic taxi driver. He totally forgot or didn't care he had a little girl in the back with her foot up and an injured knee, weaving in and out of traffic, liberally using the horn and constantly pointing out where members of his family lived without looking at the road. Thankfully We got back unscathed.
Whilst the girls hit the pool, i went out for my now daily run along the mountain road. It;s around 3-4km into Fetiyhe, a few hills and stunning coastline. Piece of piss. Well not really, it was 1pm and 37 degrees. I sweated like Gary Glitter at a Scouts convention. Hot. Felt good though, if a little trundly but i always feel better after a run and pleased it's out of the way.
Being away from home does odd things, gives you a sense of perspective. I'm reading a book about a marathon addict (it's a little dull if I'm honest) - but it made me think my 40th year is coming up rapidly and i want to do something special. So, after a while i hatched my triple header plan. My endurance trilogy for my 40th year.
First Dubai marathon in January, then London in April, then Ironman Wales in September and then round off the year with an Ultramarathon (50 miler). Sounds intense and hardcore but piss easy when you're laying on a sunlounger by the sea. I want to tear the arse out of being 40 and train properly, however as someone pointed out to me, what about the attention i need to give work, comedychops. personal training, writing and oh yes, life? Bugger - i hadn't thought of that. More planning needed.
I'm thinking of the discipline that comes with training may help with other areas, and with eating right and being healthy, but i guess why do i need to do extreme events to do that. Isn't that avoidance and replacing in itself? Being happy with oneself is something that would probably make me feel better in the long run, but now is not the time for these questions. I'm on me holidays.
The rest of the day was spent lazing by the original pool. Reading, sleeping, sweating. The Russians have taken over now. Scores of moody looking young women ignoring their children, or older less stern couples but with tremendous amount of fat. Now I'm accused of being fattest. I'm not, as i used to be a big lad and at heart i am. I love cakes, burgers, lager, chocolate, conrned beef sandwiches, biscuits, ice cream, chips. I would merrily eat that all day long but it makes me lardy and i really don't like to be lardy.
I guess people have the right to be whatever size they want, and it's not for me to judge, but these Russians were literally at it all day long. At an all inclusive (although this is a really cute bespoke one) - you can eat 24 hours a day and boy did they give it a good go.
Up early for the buffet breakfast which includes just about everything. Mid morning snack from the late breakfast buffet, lunch in the main restaurants opens from 12pm for more buffet options, there is a constant queue for fresh donuts, burgers and chips from 3pm, then at 5pm they wheel out the Turkish cakes, biscuits and tea. Then it's time for a quick waddle to the room for brush up, then it's dinner from 7pm with yet more buffet. They are huge and varied. Then from 11pm the snack bar is open all night for pizza and pasta and there are sandwiches and rolls dotted around various bars and cafes on the way back to room, in case you wake up hungry.
It's insane and there is something about All inclusive that is codeword for greed. Got to get you're monies worth and i swear to god there are legions of people walking around in a carb induced trance. Existing meal to meal. Most of which in sportswear which is pretty ironic.
Anyway, the day was a lovely one. I glanced at the Elvis lyrics to songs I've got to learn. Eek. Caught up on emails for Comedy Chops a week today. EEk. (Really must try and write some material), did a reasonably hardass gym session - 50 box jumps, 30 burpees, 20 deadlifts, 30 bicep curls, 50 press ups in 25 Min's, then more endless meat and salad for dinner.
i ducked out of the evenings entertainment, which to be fair was a pretty decent Michael Jackson tribute, but i just wasn't feeling it. Preferring instead to place myself on the main square and people watch for 90 Min's whilst smoking and drinking mint tea. Hugely enjoyable as it's fascinating to see holiday people of all nationalities.
Bored couples rarely talking, massive families where dad is Mr Fun, moody Russian chicks looking like plastic models, fat Eastern Europeans munching and munching, British having a great time, kids running around, basically life. I love it and i love everyone, they are proper great.
The evening was spent watching episode 5 of Friday Night Lights in bed. I was knackered and didn't want to start as i knew 1 wasn't enough. Once you start you just can't stop and before you know it, it's 5am and you're on Episode 14. As soon as the 1st one started i was already thinking about the next. Can i fit it in? Will i be too tired? Oh god i love it so much. Does that make me sad?
Basically it's exactly like drinking, or muffins. But you know, it's absolutely ace and i urge anyone reading to get it. Proper ace drama.
So day 4 closes, tomorrow is going to be restful as mini needs to rest the knee, but it's a day for full floral speedos and tanning oil, it's where the tan will move into a different gear and I'm looking forward to basting ever so slightly and of course inevitably drifting off to sleep and getting sunstroke rendering me ill for the rest of the trip. I maybe fit and healthy but i am most definately what you would term as stupid
Roll on the Paralympics. Team GB and transfer deadline day
xx
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