Woke up at 5.30am, leaving at 9.45am so lots to do. Wrote blog in deserted hotel lobby. Went out for few hill sprints in the burning heat and mountain view. I'm really going to miss the scenery. Hit gym for 30 minute sesh. Showered, packed (god it's so much easier for blokes, it's like military planning for women) Then it was down for the last supper. Well breakfast really but you know what i mean.
Stumbled across God again. Same loud shirt and shorts from previous day and tucking into some pancakes & nutella. He's really getting stuck into the all inclusive thing. I couldn't let the moment pass so i had a photograph with him. He maybe called Willy from Austria and live on a boat, but he'll always be God in my eyes. And God eats pancakes for breakfast.
He's proper God isn't he? Unless of course you're Muslim, Buddhist, Atheist, Sikh or God himself.
Then it was time to leave and make our way to the airport. Always a sad time for any holiday as it's time to return to normal life, winter and finding a job. Can't i stay here for another month please?
We flew Monarch again, or is that Primonarch? I know the paralympics are huge and inspirational but i think Monarch have gone too far and designed the seats for double amputees. No leg room at all.
The departure lounge, whilst being full of stressed out holiday returnees, was brightened by a fine example of the 'trump'. It's actually the 1st time i have seen it live on a mere mortal. Magnificent barnet, a sort of comb over wrap around. A genuine Trump right there in Dalaman departure lounge. Side parten combed over, wrapped around and then quiffed up. Almost 3 hairstyles in one and it was magnificent. Balding would have been proud.
The flight was actually OK and although i slate Monarch everything was painless until we hit Gatwick. Huge delays on passport control made it difficult to get back into to GB, Jesus how much does this country rate itself if you have to queue an hour to get back into it? Of course the bags took ages, then waited as long as it took to fly from Turkey to get a bus from the Terminal only to be confronted by a flat tyre on arrival of the Long Stay car park. Nuts. Welcome home.
Get back, get milk, have a cuppa, phone people to say 'i'm home', avoid opening brown envelopes for fear of disrupting your holiday glow, unpack case, dust the sand from your kegs and then settle into a slight post holiday melancholy that is called 'life'. The slow realisation of normality kicks in.
On reflection It was good holiday. Ultra chilled, i ate ultra healthily, needed to as i was infected with Candida when i left, didn't eat any shit, didn't drink diet coke, ran, worked out, rested, read and enjoyed the heat and environment. Hatched a plan to run a marathon, Ironman and ultra marathon. Then a plan to run the world, all 31,000 KM of it. Just the normal run of the mill holiday thoughts really.
Luckily to distract me this week i have my birthday, which is tomorrow (4th). Now I'm not really that into birthdays anymore, they generally stopped being exciting for me around the age of 13. But tomorrow i am 40. An adult. A grown up. Officially middle aged. Oh god. How scary.
I shall write about 'being 40' tomorrow, but on the whole I'm feeling good about it. I have a birthday BBQ at me Mums, she's just had a new patio see and is keen to road test it. When i called her last week she said 'can i call you back as we're just in the middle of a garden centre choosing a new fence'. See that's the kind of stuff i associate people of 40+ doing. She chose a high wooden one for the record.
I've also got to sign on at the Job centre for 1st time, whilst I'm in between work. This maybe a little tricky as I'm more tanned than Julio Inglesias and I'm all over the tellie on a Tesco advert. Not the usual Job seekers Allowance seeker in Hounslow is it. I may ask them for a birthday bonus which may end up me persuading them I'm not actually a benefit fraud.
I have my monthly Comedy Club on Thursday night (1st Thursday of every month) and have been writing down ideas and material for that, again it's in the back of my mind that I'm fearful of it but will try very hard to turn my thinking into the positive to see it as an opportunity and occasion to enjoy.
Then finally the week of celebrations will end with Pub Idle 3 on Saturday. XXx Factor. My 40th birthday party. Where friends all gather together dressed as rock stars, with an ace live band, X factor style singing competition which yours truly hosts as Elvis. I get to murder a couple of his songs too, so it should be fun. I did it for my 30th and it is essentially a celebration of the Great British Pub which I've always enjoyed, rather ironic for a recovering alcoholic isn't it?
The only real dilemma is white jumpsuit or black leather look. Both of which i'm having to do on the cheap. So i may end up looking a little like a sort of 'council Elvis', but that's alright Mamma.
So that's it. Holiday over. I'm still amazed you can start the day overlooking the sea and mountains in Turkey and end it in your pants in your kitchen writing your blog in Isleworth.
I'm a lucky boy really. Roll on the 40's
xx
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