Benidorm - Day 4 Still Alive

Woke up at 12:30pm. Hangover. Need breakfast.

Breakfast at the "Stretford End" bar. A sense of Groundhog Day washes over me. Is this a dream? Am I Dead? No, just the usual routine in Benidorm. Paul H appears suitably chuffed with himself. "Got a text off me mates asking if I'm still alive. They bet I would be dead by Wednesday!". Congratulations. He made it to Thursday. If only he knew what was coming!

The weather was a bit iffy so the usual poker school started early. Today I would clean up with the fish. That was the plan. Wait for a big hand and then take them to the cleaners. The plan was going along nicely. Was dealt Ace Queen suited. A nice little raise pre-flop. A few of the fish called. Flop dealt Ace Ace Eight. Lovely trip Aces, time to bankrupt the fish. Another large bet. All the fish fold except Rawdo, who calls. No problem he is a bit of a calling station. Next card comes down, no danger a 6. Rawdo has got more chips than me. Time to relieve him of them, All-in! Rawdo, the fish, calls. Show down, I reveal my Ace Queen. Rawdo shows his pocket kings. Trip Aces over a pair of Kings. Unlucky Rawdo. I'm counting my chips. "The only card that can save you is a king", cue river card and its his King. Unbelievable. I had to be restrained as I was about to take a dive off the balcony. He had a 4.55% chance of hitting his card. I hate playing with fish.

Dinner was to be at Sherry's again. I don't like going back to the same place, especially when it hasn't been booked, but I was past caring. Still traumatised by the King on the river. Less than 5% chance! We arranged to arrive at Sherry's at staggered times. We were in the last taxi. Bush was waiting for us outside. "Stopped serving food" he told us. The reason, the chef had walked out due to stress at being busy. We had to find elsewhere. So 7 of us hit the streets in search of Queens. At least it was not called Kings.

Queens was recommended to us by the staff at Sherry's. We eventually found the place and ordered steaks. Most of the lads were on T-bones, I ordered a sirloin. The steak that came out was staggering. The waiter placed it in front of me and I was lost for words. The whole table staring in stunned silence. "That's the biggest steak I've ever seen" cried Bush. It was a monster. I was still staring at it open jawed when the waiter caught my eye and asked "What's up. Is it not big enough?". I managed to get through two-thirds of it before I gave up. I'm not sure if it was because I was full or that my arms were too tired trying to cut a way through it. I swore never to eat steak again for a month.

The pub was getting ready for its cabaret show. It was a drag artist apparently and we were right at the front. A few glances around and it finally dawned on us. This is a gay bar! With a name like "Queens" we should have guessed it before.


A sharp exit was made to Churchill's before the cabaret started. The usual few bottles of mahou classic and off to Shamrocks (under protest). Damn! It was my round. I had to fight my way through the freaks, dodge the spray of beer and find a clean space at the bar. In and out with military precision. Just in time apparently. Some freak decided it would be a good idea to re-enact the F1 podium by spraying his lager all over the pub like it were champagne.

At last my protests were listened to and we made a getaway. But where to? Too early for the Square. We headed for Rocky's bar. This was a dump but at least the freaks were at a minimum. A stag do was inside and one of them started to have a go at my shirt. The classic Hawaiian style shirt with blue flowers and ladies on. "Is that your Dare shirt?" he enquired. That coming from a guy wearing a pink hacket polo shirt. The cheek. "Its cerise actually" he replied.

Outside I sat down next to Andy sipping my Mahou. It wasn't going down very well. You can have too much of a good thing. I think we had all hit the bottom of the tank. Except for Paul H. He was buzzing. Swaying I should say. He had downed a bottle of white wine to himself with his meal, washed down with a couple of Smirnoff ice. "Still Alive" he beamed. At the rate he was knocking down the Smirnoff's he didn't have long to go.

A group of women came in the bar and sat next to us. Wrongberg started talking to them and soon they were part of the group. Coppers from Nottingham apparently. Always came over to Benidorm for a girls holiday. Sometimes twice a year. Very sad. One of them took a shine to Andy. But definitely not with Andy's brother.

We moved on to Champions bar. This is where they swap the Mahou classic for the red label. The headbangers stuff. Even that couldn't get me lifted. The doorman couldn't stop laughing every time he saw Andy. He couldn't get the picture of Alexis out of his head. For a bouncer the guy was a nice bloke. Brave, being the only bouncer in a busy pub. What was his radio head piece for? We soon found out as he was off down the square in a flash. It was kicking off at the bottom end. All the doormen must be on the same channel. He was soon back laughing at Andy.

At Cafe Benidorm and none of us could get motivated. This is effectively the last night! Maybe we headed over too soon. The rest of the stragglers came over from Champions. Apparently, Andy's brother was at it again. This time kicking off with the police girls from Nottingham. Time for a chill-out. We decided to head towards the old Linekers. I was officially sick of lager. No more. We entered the new place. Music booming out house music. I could see Bush was impressed. I ordered a Bacardi & coke to see the guy getting two glasses. "No, una!", "Happy Hour" was the reply. So much for good intentions. If you closed your eyes you would think you were in a nightclub in Ibiza. State of the art sound system, flashing lights, two DJ's the works. Except there must have been at most 10 people in the place. 3 of them were staff.

We swiftly departed and headed for Sinatra's. This was an old favourite in 2000 but it was our first visit. Inside was empty but we were past caring. We sat outside chilling out, watching the drunks pass us by. In particular one guy, who was part of a stag do with some of the others sat near us, walked by with a girl in toe. "Wahay" shouted his mates in encouragement. "50 euros for the lot" he grinned back at them. No trace of embarrassment on his face. I think this one episode sums up Benidorm perfectly.

The remainder of our group gave it one last try at Cafe Benidorm but we were beaten. I surrendered and was on water. Soon followed by the rest. Time to go home and wake Craig up. 4:30am he will be pleased.