Andy and Kelly's Wedding

Mr & Mrs Meredith.

The day of the wedding had arrived. Andy wanted us at the White hart for 11:30am, an hour and a half before the ceremony. Things could get a bit messy. Craig had arranged the minibus for us at 11:00am. Not to worry, its A1 so should get here at about noon. Surprisingly, it turned up on time.


The church at Lydgate.

The minibus turned up minus one best man, Rawdo, and one usher, Craig, having a few technical difficulties with the attire. Craig had broken the bow tie already. First job of the day was to fix it. The second was to find out what had happened to Rawdo. "He's forgotten his shades" was the reply. Now that might be a crisis on the Costa del Sol, but Lydgate! I hope he hasn't forgotten the rings.

Off we went to pick up the last usher, Lenny, for the 2 minute trip up the road to the White Hart. "Fiver each lads!". Cue violent protests from Lenny. "I could have walked it in 5 minutes!". But not in your penguin suit Lenny, who had already confessed to looking like a plonker.

All was quiet at the pub. Only Mick and Clare were there, waiting on the doorstep. Very unusual, Within 10 paces of a bar and Mick is waiting for us outside? Must be a problem. The bar didn't open until 12:00. Bush was having none of it and wadded in anyway. 5 minutes later we were comfy inside on the the first pint with the clock not yet turned 11:30am. No sign of Andy, somethings never change.

With the pub steadily filling with wedding guests, Andy and his brother Paul eventually arrive. We were already on the second pint. Need to slow down. After downing a brandy for his nerves, Andy proceeded to give us, the ushers, our duties. First job was to fold the order of service sheets. Next, to attach the button holes. No safety pin disasters here. They were attached using magnets. One problem though, a shortage of magnets. A quick look at Craig's lapel solved it. He had used all the magnets for his button hole. We were instructed to arrive at the church at 12:50pm, ready to meet the guests. No problem, time for another pint.

All we had to do was meet the guests on the door, hand them a service sheet, politely enquire "Bride or Groom" and direct them to the left or right. The problem was half of the guests were already inside when we bothered to turn up. It was left to me to go around the church sheepishly to pass out the service sheets while Craig and Lenny stood on the door. Before we knew it the bridesmaids turned up and off we went.


All set for the off.

The service flew by for Andy and Kelly. Kelly arrived in a flood of tears. Andy fluffed his lines. The woman priest doing her best to calm the nerves. We endured the agony of singing two hymns. And the further agony of waiting for the couple to go and sign the register so that I could leg it to the toilet.

Outside for photo's. Paul Shaw had took it on himself to become the photographer's assistant. I thought he came well prepared, even a step ladder for Andy. The mass group shot outside the church. A little kid mischievously attempting to cripple the photographer by kicking his ladders away. "Right, just the bride and..." before the photographer could finish there was a mass exodus to the bar.


Stepladder for the Groom.

It was around 2:15pm when we started the second session. We were based in the new extension at the back, the Oak Room. The seating plan caused a few chuckles and sparked a flash point between Bush and Andy. Bush, one of the best men, was not on the head table. He was not happy. Any gathering with Bush and Andy would not be the same without a major bust up between them. His wedding day proved no exception. "I feel like I've been stabbed in the back" Bush growled. To compound his woes, "I've been put on a table with 8 strangers" he cried. "What, not even sat with Denise?", "OK, I've been put on a table with 9 strangers..."

The great seating row was finally solved when Baz & Paul Shaw graciously offered their places so that Shane and Denise could sit with us. The next trauma was the discovery that the meal was not being served at 3pm, but 4pm. So the canopies took a bit of a hammering. A quiet liked the salmon ones. Several more beers and I had begun to slur my words. Not even half three and I was in deep trouble.

The meal was wonderful. A Salmon and spring onion potato cake with cucumber salad and tartar sauce starter followed by lemon sorbet to refresh the pallet. Not that this impressed Lenny. "I'm starving, is that it?". The main course didn't go down well with him either, Roast rump of lamb with fondant potato and a caper and tomato compote. "Not much of it is there!". Topped off with a desert of crème brulee with shortbread biscuit. Lenny and given up at this point, although he was having a good go at polishing off the wine that accompanied the meal.

In between bitching about the small portions, nouvelle cuisine is lost on Lenny, the subject of "Facebook" was mentioned a few times. Lenny wanted the perfect profile picture. So he went for the Daniel Craig look, bow tie hanging loosely around his neck. Less said the better.


Facebook profile picture attempt 2.

It was soon time for the speeches. Andy was first up to thank everyone. Kelly eventually took over and dished out presents for everyone. Thanks for the aftershave! Kelly's dad made an emotional speech praising his daughter and accepting Andy into the family, even if he was a Gooner. Time for the best men speech, all three of them. Paul started off in a calm, professional manner, completely at ease in front of the guests. Then it went downhill rapidly. A little like the England cricket team, a total tail end collapse. It was not helped by a certain nameless person spilling wine all other the cue cards. Rawdo stood up to speak, and forgot to turn around. I can't tell you what he said as he had is back to us. He quickly moved on to Bush. He made a few jokes about "Geeky Andy" and toasted the Bride and Groom.


Andy with the Best Men, Paul, Rawdo & Bush.

As the evening reception started the room began to start spinning. Not sure I'm going to make it to 12pm. Even more drinks and the DJ stops the music. Can't be over already? Must be hallucinating. Elvis walked in the building. He launched into all his classic songs. He worked the crowd well. Anytime the dance floor fell empty he went straight into the crowd. There I was minding my own business chatting away when Elvis walked by. Good photo opp!


Special guest all the way from Vegas...

I am determined to go the whole night without visiting the dance floor. I was a bit unsteady on my feet. That plan went out of the window when Denise grabbed me and frogmarched me to the dance floor. Bad mistake. A few minutes later and bang! I fell and landed on top of Denise. Safely tucked back in my seat just in time to hear Bush tell Craig to change the taxi to 1am. "Bar's open till half twelve". Great. I slowly drift off into unconsciousness at the table....


Before hitting the Dance Floor.

Pre-wedding nerves

I have no idea if Andy or Kelly had a touch of the pre wedding nerves. However, there were plenty of them in the Schofield household. All to do with the outfits for the day, and a little matter of the best man's speech to finish off.

Denise was worried about her new outfit. Would it show off her cleavage too much? I assured her that all would be fine. Shane put it more bluntly and said that the Lads would enjoy an eyeful. Anyway, Denise had a backup plan, another dress that would still go with her new hat. In the end she decided for plan B (Still give the lads something to look at though!).


Denise in outfit B.

Shane on the other hand didn't have a plan B for the speech. He did have two other "Best Men" to share the duties with. However, planning seemed to go awry somewhere, only one practice session and that was before the speech had been finished. "Do you think it will be OK?" he enquired. "Course it will", I replied with the straightest face I could muster. Lambs to the slaughter.


Planning works! Denise relaxed enjoying the day & Shane..nervous!

Benidorm Awards - The Nominations

A great time was had by one and all. Everyone came back a few pounds heavy, a few more brain cells killed off by alcohol and vowing never to do it again. Until the Official Stag Night in England kicks off in the very near future. Bush, we will meet you in The Lounge at 8pm. Don't forget to wear your T-shirt.

To honour the time wasted in Benidorm, the following awards are up for grabs. Below is a list of the runners and riders. Votes to be cast on the next stag do! Let me now if you have any other nominations etc.

The Shane Schofield Award:

This is to honour the most luckiest member of the group whilst in Benidorm. The nominees are:
- Rawdo: Stuffy less than 5% chance of hitting the King and does.
- Lenny: Somehow potting red off 27 cushions and leavng himself on the black, pool shot.
- Paul H: For still breathing after a night on the Vino & Smirnoff's.
- Mick: 30cent taxi ride back home & getting away with it.

The San Miguel Award:

To award the hardcore boozer or other drinking moment. The nominees are:
- Paul H: Bottle of wine washed down with how many Smirnoff's?
- Baz: An Original Tequila Slammer in Churchill's.
- Andy: For the amount supped on Stag Night & waking up hangover free.

The Michael Clementi Award:

Obviously this award is for the best sun worshipper of the group. The nominees are:
- Paul (Andy's Bro): Stunning red face and sunglasses white eyes combo.
- Lenny: Just to piss Yid off.
- Phil: Voted for by the Nottingham coppers.

The Charles Darwin Award:

Its amazing that these nominees still live and breath after these school boy errors:
- Lenny: Chinese Banquet with Mick & Bob. Not the best of ideas being boxed in.
- Craig: Careful when leaning on bars Craig. Especially after someone just puked over it.
- Paul (Andy's Bro): Could cause a fight in an empty room.

Benidorm - Day 5 Sin Alcohol

Woke up at 11:30pm. Hangover. Need breakfast.

The same old routine of Stretford end and pool. Everyone was waiting for the card school to start up. I wanted revenge against Rawdo. King on the river, lucky git. Like all the previous poker games most were active participants. The ones that weren't had turned up late or Lenny. Lenny was at every session. No matter how much we tried to persuade him to play, he was not for parting with his 5 euro. I even gave him a lesson in the game to build his confidence. Still he would not play.

Today was the biggest game yet with 6 players with a total pot of 30 euros. There were a few scares but in the end I took the pot down. Cream always rises to the top. Still, I couldn't get over the bitter taste of the bad beat by Rawdo and his Kings. I wanted more revenge.

To entice Lenny into playing I introduced a "All-in or Fold" tournament. Simple rules for 1 Euro. We played a game for fun to show Lenny how quick and easy it was. Bush won and was gutted there was no money riding on it. Lenny was hooked. 8 Players for a big 8 Euro pot. The luck of the draw meant that Bush and Lenny had no choice but to go all-in on the first hand. There were two more callers. Showdown. Lenny, with 2-4 Off-suit, had easily the worse hand. "I knew it! I should never have agreed to play". Before a flop came down that everyone missed except Lenny with his 2. He went on to stay in front and amazingly scooped the pot. He went on to win the game. "I like this game". Another convert to Poker made.

The aim of the day was to stay alcohol free. Early start in the morning and I didn't want any trace of alcohol in my body for the long trip home. Would I make it? The plans for the night where to go out to get something to eat. This normally entails the first beer of the day. Then it was to Churchill's for Pool. Obviously, more beers consumed here. To finish off, it was the hotel bar to watch England B v Albania. Football and beer usually go hand in hand. Chances of success were slim. But I was strong enough. Wasn't I? Motivation came with the sorry state of Paul H. He was looking a bit green around the gills. Not surprising after the amount he shifted last night. Beer monster.

The lads wanted to make it a hat-trick of Sherry's for Dinner. Thankfully, Lenny, Craig, Rawdo and Paul (Andy's Brother) saw the light and agreed to go to the chicken place. Bush wouldn't go "because the Jockey's are too greasy". Why he can't just say "Chips" is beyond me.

The meal was lovely and was washed down with a refreshing orange juice. Lenny ordered a sangria and it almost caught me with my guard down. I love a nice sangria. A quick taste of Lenny's proved that it was a nice one, as you would expect from a Spanish establishment, rather than the tacky Brit pubs we had been frequenting. But, I stood firm and resisted ordering one.

On to Churchill's for a pool lesson. I somehow managed to win the first game and then came up against Rawdo. I had a couple of chances to steal the game but messed up. Rawdo would probably have wrapped the cue around my neck if I stole that game. Rawdo went on to beat all in front of him. Things were going well. Zero alcohol consumed.

Off we went to the hotel for the football. England B did alright and won the match with little resistance. A good goal by Alan Smith and Owen got through the game without breaking down. It was only Albania though. Still Alcohol free. Game over and I had done it. Back to the room for the last poker session.

It wasn't as big a pot as earlier but better than nothing. The victory eased some of the pain caused by Rawdo's Kings but they will never be forgotten. Time for an early night. The only down side was as I was denied the usual waking of Craig up as he was still up. 12:30am. Cannot get to sleep at all. You must need to be drunk to sleep in Benidorm, Or my body clock needs re-adjusting. Oh, and Craig talks in his sleep. Probably he did
it deliberately, just payback.

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.

Benidorm - Day 3 Sponsored by Ladbrokes

Woke up 12pm. Hangover. Need breakfast.

Off we go to Stretford End. Oh no were not. Enough in the group to mutiny. We will find a different location. Walked along the beach front and found a place with a sea view. Still ordered full English. Not as good as the other place though. Suppose its back to plan A tomorrow.

Funds were running dangerously low. I tried to withdraw cash from the apartments cash machine. It wanted a 6 euro commission. I normally walk to the other end of town to avoid a 50 cent charge. 6 euros! You must be joking. Walked into town to find another bank. Gave "Banco Popular" a try. It had the "ServiRed" logo and I was prepared to pay the 50 cents. Again, it wanted 6 Euros! Not a popular bank with me. I finally found a bank willing to charge me 50 cents and got my money. Only to walk around the corner and find my bank. Typical.

To break up the daily pool routine, we got a card school going. Texas Hold 'em poker. 30 chips each for a 5 Euro stake. This was to become the late afternoon routine. Along with watching Zorro. Me, purely for the Spanish, the lads for the women in the programme. The game was a classic with fish a plenty. Typically I got stung a few times on the river by these jokers. Never mind. My time will come.


As it was Champions League final, Wrongberg had took it up on himself to book a table for 18 at an English bar called Sherry's in the Old Town. It is on top of a hill in a nice picturesque location with stunning views of the sea. Not all bad in Benidorm then. The service was a bit slow but was expected due to the numbers. However, the meal was lovely and more than compensated for the wait.

Throughout the previous day me and Rawdo had our bookmakers heads on. Both trying to out-maneuver the over to get the upper hand. The bet, Winner of the Champions League. Rawdo got early position due to my over confidence in the Italians. I gave him odds of 2:1. Frantic negotiations got the result by penalties null and void. I'm pretty sure that I managed to negotiate better terms but we were both too drunk to remember.

So all day I had been attempting to re-negotiate the deal. I gradually wore him down. First, was the refusal to take my bet that the others would go for a Chinese when they couldn't find anywhere else. That one came in for me but Rawdo claims no deal was struck. The other came after I defeated him at pool. The concession I got, an extra 5 euro if Kaka scored the winning goal. The previous concession offered by Rawdo, only just managing to surpress his laughter, was an extra 10 euros if Inzahgi scored. Needless to say I turned that one down point blank.

The plan was to watch the game in another pub. However, we had only just finished our meals and were comfy in Sherry's. Team line-ups announced. Inzahgi starts, advantage Rawdo. Rawdo tries to up the ante with a side bet on the number of times he is caught offside. AC Milan don't turn up. Liverpool well on top and should be in the lead. Rawdo seems content with the bet so far. Then disaster strikes for him. Just before half-time a Pirlo free kick goes in, off Inzahgi. Total disbelief. Not that Milan scored, but it was Inzahgi. And he wasn't offside.


The second half doesn't get much better for Rawdo. The unbelievable happens and Inzahgi gets a second. A good goal too. I try reminding Rawdo of the concession I had obtained on Inzahgi but he wasn't having any of it. The dying minutes brought a consolation goal for Liverpool but the 5 euros were safely tucked away in my pocket. More euros from Rawdo to follow.

After the game we decided to meet up with the others that went on to the Duke Of Wellington to watch the match. Bob led the way. After a few minutes we were convinced he was leading us the wrong way. His early exploits with Mick when they failed to find the old town gave us doubts about his orienteering skills. Scheming began at the tail of the convoy. Mutiny planned and then "I told you so!" cried Bob pointing out the pub in the distance. Never doubted him.

But it was too late. The others had disappeared. Sin Rastro. Turns out they were sick of waiting for us and headed into the new town and were waiting at Piccadilly. "I know where that is. Its up there on the right" our leader seemed confident. Well it was up there, but on the left.

From there and on to Churchill's. Rawdo, Craig, Lenny and I decided on a quiet night. The others soon left for some more freak spotting at Shamrocks. We were more interested in playing pool and an early night. Me and Rawdo v Lenny & Craig. We won the match but all I can remember is the pool shark that is Lenny. With the black ball covering the only pocket that he could possible pot his last remaining red, Lenny contrives to hit it as hard has he could. The red cannoned off every cushion at least twice before dropping dead centre into the bottom-right pocket. White ball nicely positioned for the Black. He would go on to perform similar miracles throughout the holiday.

The quiet night turned out to be a bit of a marathon. We were in there until closing time. That was 3:30am. Second wind caught, we sailed over to the Red Dog. A dubious bar that appears to have all kinds of cabaret acts on. Not for the faint hearted. TV Screens showed replays of recent acts. Craig "The Tit Man" Taylor sat transfixed at the screen.

That was it for the night for Lenny & Craig. Two left standing went in search of the others in Cafe Benidorm. We arrived there to find the place relatively quiet. No sign of the others. They had all called it a night. We carried on until near closing time.

Enough's enough we headed back. Time to wake Craig up. 7am. He took it surprisingly well.

Benidorm - Day 2 The Stag Night

Woke up at 11am. Hangover. Need breakfast.

The official breakfast was to be a full English at the "Stretford End" bar near the beach. I can't believe that we would stoop so low as to go in a Man U bar but facts were facts. It was the nearest place and we were all hungover. The usual consisted of a 2 Eggs, 2 Bacon, Sausage, tomatoes, mushrooms and beans, washed down with a pint of Orange Juice and instant coffee.

In the afternoon it was time to get organised for the stag night. This entailed driving into the new town to buy Andy's bits and pieces. Bush and Paul Hewson went in search for the perfect items. Or should I say, Paul Hewson was determined to create his perfect woman. All items purchased were based on his personal specifications. Skirt, Wig, Fake plastic boobs the lot. "She's going to be my 10 to 6'er". This before a drink had been consumed. Worrying.

We went to meet Andy on the beach front at the Daytona Rock bar. Andy & Paul (Andy's brother) went to meet his dad and friend, who had driven up from Torrevieja for the night. The beach was a real eye opener compared to Burriana. The beach was half full but the bars were packed with Brits drinking. Magners seemed to be the drink of choice.

Bush & Paul H went to buy more items. It turned out that Paul H was buying shorts for the night. Apparently we all had to wear shorts with our specially designed T-shirts. Bush managed to haggle the shop assistant down to 60 Euros for a pair of surfer shorts. I managed to buy a pair for the princely sum of 6 Euros. Bargain.

Back at the pool for a bit of R&R before the big night. Andy had is make-up done by the reps. Rumours that they were using Andy's personal make-up were answered with a "No Comment". Finished, Andy went to see Paul H to be dressed. He wasn't seen again for at least an hour.

The transformation from Andy to Alexis was complete. Paul H took the role of Jealous boyfriend as he tirelessly beat off approaches from the other lads. Alexis was having none of it. Flirting with all the boys. Even letting them fondle her boobs. Paul H was not happy and the first of many tiffs broke out between the pair. Alexis positively flushed with all the compliments passed her way. My particular favourite was from Wrongberg, "She not bad from behind. If you ignore the hairy legs.". He's definitely a wrong 'un.


Wrongberg discovers Alexis's pair are plastic.

All the attention Alexis received seemed to detract attention from us with our new T-shirts. Nobody had any real problems with the "Andy Gonzo Meredith" caricature with the big nose (needed to be bigger) on the front. It was the back we had problems with. In particular the slogan "Benidorm Beaver Bashers". We had just joined the freaks of Benidorm. How would they take us?

17 lads and 1 lady hit the streets of downtown Benidorm in search of a restaurant that would take us. No where along the beach. The one place that would was too expensive. 18 Euros for a burger! Still, Lenny kopped for the round of drinks in that bar, outflanked again. We went in land for food. Nothing doing. The number of barbed comments from passing tourists had increased our paranoia levels over the T-shirts. We needed drink quickly.

It was every man (and woman) for himself. Just like in fools and horses during the day trip to Margate. We all went separate ways. Rawdo, Lenny and I upped the pace and found a Tony Roma's steak house. Lenny, outflanked again, had his back to the rest of the dinners. Me and Rawdo backs to the wall. The only real trauma was going to the toilet. "How many people are looking at me?" I asked as I stood up to make a break for it. "1,2,3 just run for it!".

After a good feed it was time to meet the rest of the lads back at Churchill's. Safely back in the group the beers started to flow. We were encouraged to ask Rachel, the girl behind the bar with the large breasts, to show us the ice cube trick. This entailed her putting an ice cube between her boobs and squeezing them together to propel the ice cube into a pint pot. Alexis tried but failed.

Clearly being encouraged by the large crowd around her (the actual fact that all the lads rushed into the bar was because a massive thunderstorm had just broken out) she went on to perform her Tequila Slammer shot special. This involved applying lemon and salt on her breasts, placing the shot between them, and placing the remainder of the lemon in her mouth. The person drinking the shot had to lick the salt, take the shot glass from her breast using his mouth only, down the shot and then retrieve the lemon from her mouth.


Alexis the slapper.

Off to the Star & Garter for a bit of Karaoke before Alexis and Paul H had another tiff. Baz decided a he would star in a duet with Alexis. He also put up Andy's dad and mate to perform "500 Miles" by the proclaimers. Dead ringers. To there credit, the Proclaimers battled away manfully before being helped out by a hen party of playboy bunnies (the most mature bunnies I have ever seen). Then it was time for the star turn. "Love lift us up where we belong" by Baz & Alexis. They managed to kill it in under 30 seconds. It soon descended into a soft porn movie. Kisses were exchanged and before you knew it Alexis was on her back with her legs wide open. Paul H was not amused. On the way out Alexis was engaged with girlie chat with the barmaid that ended up with them comparing breast size. Alexis won by a country mile.


Mine are bigger than yours love!

It was time for our daily dose of Shamrocks. Outside is freak land. Inside is surreal. The floor is wet through (by beer I hope), the place is full of freaks. There were even families inside desperately shielding there kids from the massed throngs jumping up and down going mental. And that was to Kylie Minogue. All hell broke lose when the live Irish band started playing the "Irish Rover". I ordered the beers and headed for the relative safety of outside.


Alexis & Baz at Shamrocks.

Outside, we traded war stories of our venture inside. Lenny told of the guy next to him in the bar that was looking rather pale. He then projectile vomited all over the bar in true "Little Britain" style. Craig, attempting to get served headed for the empty space recently vacated at the bar and proceeded to place is elbow in the middle of the sick. Bob had the pleasure of undoing the zipper for Buzz Lightyear. Meanwhile, Mick had a welsh audience as he went for a quick pee. "Go on then!" cried the Welshman with his head directly under the urinal looking up at Mick. "Let us see the cock!".

In search of sanity we headed for a cabaret bar near the square. Here, the occupants looked less freakish but things were about to turn. Alexis got into a cat fight with a fat bird. Obviously, fat bird was jealous of the attention Alexis was receiving and made a grab for her wig. She then proceeded in trying to provoke Alexis into a fight. "Drink up lads. Time to leave Freakshow 2". Off we headed for the Square.

Champions bar and time for the Rodeo. It seemed that all the lads wanted a go. Alexis mounted the Bull with Baz. It looked like the romance between her and Paul H was over. Paul H consoled himself by taking a ride with Mick. Rawdo and Bush looked to enjoy their ride a bit too much. It wouldn't be a holiday with Andy/Alexis if he didn't come up with some annoying phrase or impression. Lenny was the target this time due to his resemblance to Drago, the Russian boxer in the Rocky films. "You must first see the Bull, then Destroy the Bull", over and over again in a strange Hungarian/Mancunian accent. Lenny, to his credit, didn't end up chinning him.


Bush & Rawdo enjoying the ride.

Over to Cafe Benidorm to end the night. Everyone was enjoying dancing or just chilling outside. Dance rivalries between Craig and Paul H seemed to have been forgotten. Paul H still devastated by the breakup with Alexis presumably the reason. It was whilst I was outside that Andy's brother Paul was in the middle of a spot of bother. Apparently this lad had been constantly staring at him all night. Paranoia brought on by the T-shirts made him convinced he had got himself a gay stalker. He decided to make his feeling known by simulating oral sex with his lager bottle and calling the guy a "Cock Sucker". This didn't go down to well with the stalker. Over he came trying to take a pop at Paul. Luckily, enough of the lads were around and the guy ended up being kicked out by the doormen.

Paranoia had reached fever pitch. Some of the lads, Craig included (will he ever learn) had already headed home before the fracas. Apparently the guy screamed that we were all dead as he was slung out of the club. He promised vengeance and to come back with his mates. Me and Rawdo wanted to get some food and go home. "Best stay in here for a while" said Bush pointing out that we were all marked men as we were wearing the Gonzo T-shirts. Bloody Hell Bush! I had just managed to forget about wearing it.

Not to be deprived of food me & Rawdo decided to take our chances and head out. We were sat outside eating our chips and gravy when two lads approached us. "Where's your mate!" enquired one of them. The other one, sporting a white shirt and black bow tie dangling untied around his neck, more like Brook Bond than James, came to me in a apologetic manner. He was apologising for his mates actions in broken English, assuring me he was drunk and he didn't mean any trouble. I think Rawdo was politely telling the stalker that he had better be on his best behaviour or he would bounce him down the other end of the square. And then bounce him back up, make him pay for another chips and gravy before bouncing him back down again. Apology accepted, no chips spilt and off they went into the night. Another foreign diplomatic incident averted.

Back to the Apartments after another good night out. Time to wake Craig up. 6am, not too late then.

Benidorm - Day 1 The Arrival

The road trip from Nerja to Benidorm would take around 5 hours according to Tom Tom. Fran at the gym assured me it would take 4 hours. So, I set off at 9:30am, 30 minutes breaks should be there by 2-3pm. I would hate to see how fast Fran drives. I arrived at 3:45pm.

The trip is not too bad once you get past Motril and hit the motorway. Getting stuck behind camper vans and roadworks on the N340 probably added 30 mins to the journey time. Also the signs for "Services" do not give any indication as to whether it is on the motorway or 5 mins away from the junction. Really annoying especially when you find the cafe is shut.

I arrived at the apartments and first impressions were not bad. Nice pool. Seemed to be orientated for the family. Tried to book in with my poor Spanish only to realize that the receptionist was German. That would be my first and only attempt to speak the lingo. The official language of Benidorm is English (tinged with a scottish accent it seems).

Found the lads around the pool. They appeared to be relaxed, taking in the afternoon sun. On closer inspection they were all suffering from hangover. I announced that it was time for my first lager of the holiday, anyone else? The silence was deafening. Lager & 3 cokes it was.

The lads around the pool totalled 8. Where were the others? A few were still in bed. Bush (AKA Shane) informed me that another group had congregated around a hen party from Ireland on the other side of the pool. The group was lead by Wrongberg (AKA Paul Shaw). Apparently it was the girls last day and they were going at 5pm. The lads were after free booze which they managed to scavenge successfully. Bush managed to secure a carrier bag full of suncream. Well, at least it was practical.

The evening meal was a Chinese near to Churchill's, the pub was to be our base as it was in 2000 on my stag do. 11 of us went for the banquet. Veterans amongst the group jockeyed for position at the table. We were split up on two tables. Eyes glinting, mouths drooling, Mick & Bob took prime position at the end of table 1. I made a quick dash for table 2. Too quick, as I was positioned against the wall. But not to worry, there was only Rawdo to worry about on the table. The fatal mistake was made by Lenny (AKA Ste Parker). He was cornered on table one.

It proved to be a very nice banquet, everyone agreed. Except Lenny. He never got a look in. With each dish arriving at the table, Mick & Bob had taken the lion's share before the plate hit the table. The rest were quicker than Lenny. They had forks drawn ready to snap up the rest. Lenny was left with scraps and that's being generous.

Over to Churchill's and the place had not changed much over the years. Same pool table. Same entertainment. Same positions taken by the lads, next to the pool table. A few quick beers before we hit the town.

The first stop was the "Star & Garter". This was to be our official Karaoke bar. Not that many of us were going anywhere near the stage but it seemed that Baz & Wrongberg enjoyed a singsong. That would keep until tomorrow night though.

Off to Shamrocks, the official Irish bar. No resort would be complete without one. However, my idea of an Irish bar and Benidorm's seems to differ. The place was a freak show. The number of Stag do's, Hen Nights, Birthday party's and even Divorce Party's was frightening. All in fancy dress of some description. Name a superhero, cartoon character or any famous person (dead or alive) and chances are you will meet them here. I didn't make it inside on this occasion. That treat would be saved for tomorrow night.

The place that everyone ends up is "The Square". Its more of a pedestrian walkway full of bars and disco's. The two places that we would most frequent, Champions and Cafe Benidorm, are at the top end. Champions is the one with the Mechanical bull. For 4 Euros you to could be twissed around, embarrassed in front of everyone and concussed when you headed the bull whilst falling off. Still, it was fun to watch the ladies ride it. No guesses where we stood in that bar.

Cafe Benidorm became the official disco bar. Inside you got the usual freaks but it seemed to be toned down from the Shamrocks level. Or was it that we were all too drunk to notice anymore. Probably, as it was the only place were we all got up and danced the night away.

Gradually through the night the lads would slip off home. Craig, who I was sharing with, always seemed to disappear in the first group. A fatal mistake that he never learned from. Waking Craig up on my return home became a ritual. Well, I didn't want him to worry all night did I?

Benidorm

All the lads went to Benidorm for Andy's stag do. The majority of the lads arrived on Saturday 19th May, cup final day. They arrived early doors, setting off for the airport at 3:00am. I just knew that beers were going to be ordered and then non-stop all day. I took the only sensible option available. I didn't go until Monday!

The following Benidorm posts chart my time during the Stag do (at least what I can remember). I will add other pictures from time to time when I get them. Lads, if I have missed anything let me know and I will add it. Ladies, sorry no shock revelations here. Except maybe about Alexis....