Faster than a flicker

 I can drink my liquor, faster than a flicker

I can drink my liquor

After our day at the Texas State Fair we went out for dinner to help Galyn celebrate his birthday. There were about 8 of us and we headed to a Tex-Mex place called Pappasito’s. Gary checked that I was ok with Tex-Mex. I replied saying that I had just spent 3 weeks in Mexico eating Mex-Mex food so I would be fine. The food was good but the drinks we had to wash the food down with were even better. Gary recommended The Wave, a huge glass of frozen margarita with a swirl of frozen sangria through it. I had a couple of those and by the time we left I was feeling stuffed (with food) and a little tipsy.

We went for a couple of post dinner drinks at 1851 Club. It was a little busier than the first night and I didn’t get stared at as much by the locals. I was introduced to the barman and a couple of the regulars who were sat along the bar. It didn’t take me saying much for them to realise that I wasn’t local. The barman asked me if I would like a cup of tea. I told him that I didn’t drink tea. The Americans all looked at me in disbelief. They didn’t seem to be able to comprehend the concept an Englishman who didn’t drink tea. I told them it was a stereotype just like if I assumed all Texans wore cowboy boots 24/7 and owned several guns. As I finished the sentence I did a quick check to make sure I couldn’t see anyone in cowboy boots. Or anyone with a gun. We helped Galyn celebrate his birthday in style, which meant we ended up doing shots out of penis shaped shot glasses. There was a technique to getting the shot out in one go without spilling it. The balls at the bottom of the shot glass had to be the right way round when you drank. It was a fun night and it made me realise that with Gary I had at last found an American who could hold his liquor as well as me. It was a fun evening and I slept well.

After a hearty home cooked breakfast the next morning Gary & I headed over to a log cabin village for a bit of Texas heritage. The place was staffed with volunteers in period costume and there was nobody else there so we had the place to ourselves. The volunteers were great at bringing the place to life with stories about the cabins, the original owners and Texas history. One of the volunteers gave us the history of one of the cabins as she sat in a rocking chair, knitting. She asked if we had any questions. I tried to throw her by asking how the couple who owned the cabin managed to have eleven children given that there was only one bedroom. She smiled at me and said she wasn't sure but if it had been her she would have sent the kids outside while they had a go at making another one. I liked her.

Faster than a flicker

Friday night we hit the gay scene in Fort Worth. Duane joined us, which he wouldn’t have done if we had gone into Dallas. I was relaxed about wherever we went. I had been to such a wide range of gay bars so far during my trip but at the end of the day they all managed the basics – they all served alcohol, they had all gays there and they all played Adele. Our first stop was at a Rainbow Lounge, a place with a large bar and dance floor that already had a few people on it despite it still being fairly early. From the look of a few people they had clearly started their weekend celebrations early. We got ourselves a drink and headed out to the back where there was a patio and seating. The music out the back was different to the main bar too and I was enjoying the selection. After a couple of tracks the music was interrupted by talking. They were actually streaming BBC Radio 1 into the place. I felt at home. I considered asking them to play The News Quiz. I do like a bit of Sandi Toksvig.

We stayed there for one drink before heading across the road to another gay bar that was a little smaller and quieter. Some friends of Gary and Duane were there and we had a drink with them. The place had a couple of “bartenders” who were walking round in just underwear trying to sell shots to the customers. I am sure they made plenty in tips during an evening but a job where the “uniform” is just underwear is not something I could ever do. It would require way too much manscaping for a start.

I got to chat to Duane quite a bit over the course of the evening. It was nice to be able to get to know him a little better as I had spent most of the time so far with Gary. He was the quieter of the two but once we got chatting we got on really well. We discussed plans for the following day, a trip into downtown Dallas. He told me that if we had time afterwards we could always go up to the shooting range and fire some guns. After Fort Worth we headed back towards home in Arlington, calling in at Best Friends for a drink there. It was fairly busy and we settled ourselves in at the bar, facing across to the dancefloor where quite a few people were up doing some line dancing. Casey was behind the bar and he started on my gin and tonic without me even having to ask. He didn’t need to ask any of us what we were drinking.

The Texas School Book Depository

Saturday I was up early, but missed being bright by some way. Coffee, breakfast and a shower and I was good to go. I wanted to head into downtown Dallas for a walk around and see a couple of touristy things. We went to Dealey Plaza to see the site of JFK’s assassination. We took in the grassy knoll, along the road where the bullets struck (two large white 'x' markers have been painted on the road to mark the spot) and the Texas School Book Depository building. Our afternoon was spent walking round the Heritage Village and having a lunch sat in the sun so we never made it to the shooting range. Duane cooked dinner that evening and Galyn joined us. He was engrossed in the baseball match that was on the tv, the Texas Rangers needing to win it to go through to the World Series. In between the breaks in play I asked loads of silly questions – “What colour are the Texan Strangers playing in?”, “Is it half time?”, and “Which country will they play against in the World Series?”. Galyn answered all my questions, he was in a good mood because the Rangers were leading by quite a few goals.

After dinner Galyn headed home and Duane went for an early night as he was working on Sunday. I went upstairs to pack as my flight up to Seattle was fairly early the following morning. It didn’t take me that long to pack my suitcase. I was getting so used to it that I think I could probably pack in my sleep. I headed back downstairs to finish my glass of wine. Gary asked if I fancied a quick drink at 1851. I looked at my watch and said ok, provided it was just one drink as I should get an early night. Three hours, four drinks, two Jell-o shots and several drag queens later we got back home. It was going to be a long flight to Seattle in the morning. And I never did get to find out if everything is bigger in Texas.



“I can drink my liquor, faster than a flicker” 
Lyrics from Anything you can do from the musical Annie Get Your Gun

Nothing too high tone

It's just a piddly squatin' old time country place, ain't nothing too high tone

It's just a piddly squatin' old time country place 

I woke up with a bit of a hangover from the night before. I don’t think it was the 75-cent beers. It was American beer so it wasn’t that strong. I think it must have been the switch to gin later in the evening. I had forgotten how strong the Americans make their drinks. I think my final gin had merely been garnished with tonic water. I lazed in bed for a while, joined by one of the dogs who made himself comfortable on the end of the bed. I dozed for a while and then got up when I heard Gary moving around downstairs. He asked if I was ready for some breakfast. I was. We headed out for a late breakfast to a little place near his. I think we were the only non-seniors in the place. The breakfast hit the spot and I was soon feeling human again.

We started my Texas tour by heading to Fort Worth to take in the historic Fort Worth Stockyards. As we arrived and looked for somewhere to park I got a glimpse of my first proper cowboys. There were two of them on horses a little way ahead of us on the road. I was very excited. We got a little closer and slowly overtook them. It turned out that it was an old man and a woman cowboy. I was a lot less excited. Reality never quite lives up to my imagination. I blame living in the real world rather than a porn film. We parked up and headed into the Stockyards for a good look round. I learned a lot about the history of Texas and livestock but I suspect some of it was bull…

After the Stockyards we walked past the Cowboy Hall of Fame and down the Walk of Fame. It was the Fort Worth equivalent of the Hollywood Boulevard stars. I had never heard of most of them. I took a photo of the Annie Oakley star. I knew who she was. From there we walk up to BillyBob’s. Gary explained that it was the largest honky-tonk in the world. I wasn’t sure what a honky-tonk was and was too embarrassed to ask but I figured I would find out once we got there. It turns out that a honky-tonk is a huge bar that has space for music entertainment. Boy do they have space. The place was massive (yes, yes, everything is bigger in Texas). They had a bull riding room, which is not a euphemism. They only did bull riding on Friday and Saturday evenings so I didn’t get to watch any while I was there. I wouldn’t have been allowed to have a go on the bull either. Apparently you need to have a rider’s card from a rodeo-sanctioning organisation. I don’t even have a full driving licence.

We did a tour round the place and then had a drink. Gary got me a G&T. Having consumed a fair few gins the previous night I paused before taking the first sip. It would either go down a treat or I would spend the afternoon nursing it. It went down a treat. I am a firm believer that my liver is like the engine in a classic car. It is much better to keep using it a little each day to keep it ticking over rather than letting it sit unused and finding it has seized up when you do finally come to use it. We only stayed for one drink and then headed off, passing the world’s largest belt buckle on the way out. I had offered to cook dinner so we picked up the necessary ingredients for roast beef and Yorkshire Puddings at the supermarket on the way home. I think having just spent a week with the family had reminded me of the things that I was missing from back home. I cooked dinner that night and we sat outside on the deck enjoying it. I felt very relaxed with Gary & Duane. It didn’t feel like only my second night with them. It did get me thinking whether my feelings of being at home and getting on with my hosts were reciprocated. I hadn’t had any hosts ask me to leave and find a hotel to stay in so I figured I was doing ok.

  

Ain't nothing too high tone

After breakfast the next morning Gary and I made our way over to the Texas State Fair. We had avoided going the previous day as entry was by two tins of canned goods (which get donated to charity) and Gary said the place would be unbearable. Instead we managed to hit Senior’s Day and there was a queue of people at the ticket booth when we arrived. It looked like a casting call for a remake of Cocoon. The fair was a great place to people watch and luckily Gary was just as bitchy as me so we had a fun time pointing out people to each other and judging. The State Fair lived up to its name. We saw some right states.

We walked around the craft hall seeing who had won prizes for various things. There were all sorts of competitions and some very creative and crafty people in Texas. I burst out laughing at a pillow that had got an “honorable mention”. Embroidered across the pillow was “Good morning glory”. There would be pig racing later in the day so in the meantime I went on the Texas Star Ferris Wheel. It is the tallest Ferris wheel in North America (everything, bigger, Texas). Gary stayed on the ground as he had a fear of heights. What a poof. I prayed for relatively normal people to join the queue behind me as I knew I would have to share a pod with them. I did ok ending up sharing with a regular sized couple and their young daughter, who was very well behaved. The views of Dallas from the top were great.

After my spin on the wheel we walked to where all the food stalls were. Looking at what was on offer I could see why the locals were the size they were. You could basically get anything you wanted to eat and it would be deep fried for you. In addition to signs for normal things that you might get deep fried (like chicken) I saw signs for deep fried ice cream, beer, chicken skins, Oreo’s, bubblegum and even a deep fried pineapple upside down cake. We gave most of the food a miss although I did have my first ever taste of funnel cake. It is deep fried (obviously) and then covered in icing sugar. I shared one with Gary knowing I wouldn’t be able to eat the entire thing.

The Texas Star

From the State Fair we headed into Dallas where I was given a quick tour of the gaybourhood. We stopped in to JR’s Bar and Grill for a drink. Across the road was Sue Ellen’s. I had never watched Dallas (I’m too young, honest) but I got the references. It was late afternoon and the place was fairly empty. We had a drink at the bar and I was introduced to a couple more people Gary knew. He knows a lot of people! While we were sat there a guy came in to talk to some people sat down the other end of the bar. He looked very butch but in a gay way. Big upper body, thick neck, trimmed beard. He had a black poodle in tow, which ruined the butch look. To make matters worse the poodle’s claws had been painted bright pink. I tried to snap a photo but by the time I had got my camera out of my bag he had gone. Not what I was expecting to see in Texas!

“It's just a piddly squatin' old time country place, ain't nothing too high tone” 
Lyrics from A Lil' Ole Bitty Pissant Country Place from the musical The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas

One more slug of gin

One more for the road, one more slug of gin

One more for the road

After Family Week in Isla Mujeres it was time for me to return to the States. My return would see me fly into Dallas-Fort Worth for a few days in Texas. The plan was then for me to head up to Seattle and work my way down the West coast. I had a few gays already lined up and was working on getting my remaining slots filled. My next hosts were Gary and Duane. I had been put in touch with Gary by the cousin of Number 14, Rhett, my Nashville gay. She had been following my trip after seeing Rhett post about my visit when I was in Nashville and had sent my details on to Gary. My flight from Mexico City was on time and getting off the plane I was prepared for what would be my third pass through US Immigration since starting my trip. I knew that key to getting out as quickly as possible was to beat as many people as possible to the front of the queue. Having got off the plane I power-minced through the arrivals hall to Immigration.

Despite managing to get near to the front of the queue it still took me a while to clear Immigration. When it was finally my turn I hoped it would be quick and painless. The guard didn’t ask me any questions and I was through with the minimum of fuss. Gary was outside the doors waiting for me. We headed off to the car park. Gary said that he couldn’t quite remember where he had parked. It didn’t take us too long to find his SUV though. It was huge and stuck out of the parking space by quite some way, towering above the cars parked either side. It was probably about the size of my flat back in London and I felt like I needed a small ladder to help me get into the passenger seat. I had heard that everything was bigger in Texas.

As we drove to the house Gary asked me whether there was anything particular that I fancied doing that evening. I said something that involved getting some food to start with would be good as I realised I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was feeling peckish. After that something involving alcohol would be fine with me. At the house I met their three dogs, was shown to my room and showered and changed. We had dinner at a little family run Italian called Moni’s. Gary asked for my opinion on one of the waiters as to whether he was a gay or not. I couldn’t tell. It is sometimes really difficult to tell now, especially with younger guys. I blame it on the fact that straight men realise that they have to make an effort with their appearance and dress nowadays. Dinner was great but I barely managed half of my dinner the portion size was so huge. It was still looking good for everything being bigger in Texas.

After dinner we headed over to Best Friends Club in Fort Worth. It was poker night. I told Gary that I had never really played Texas Hold’em & Poke’em before. We put our names down on the sign up sheet, Gary making sure there was a name in between ours so we could end up starting at the same table. I think he just wanted to be able to take all my chips knowing I was a novice. The bar was offering 75 cent beers so I had one of those rather than my usual G&T, not wanting to get too drunk on my first night. I was introduced to Duane, Gary’s other half who had called in for a quick drink on his way home from work and a friend of theirs, Galyn, whose birthday it was. I wished him a happy birthday.  Neither Duane nor Galyn were playing poker so Gary and I went off to settle ourselves in at the poker table. I was soon getting the hang of it. I just didn’t want to be the first one at the table to lose all their chips or to drop the cards when it was my turn to shuffle and deal. During the poker people could also get up and sing karaoke to get some extra chips. I passed on singing. Most people who sang did country numbers I had never heard of.

One more slug of gin

I lasted several hands, even winning a pot or two before losing them all. I was pleased I wasn’t the first person out, a couple of people had already gone out before me. Gary still had a huge stack of chips so while he continued on playing I headed to the bar to get another drink. I ordered myself another beer, getting a dollar out to pay for the drink and another dollar out for the tip. The barman asked me if I was from Australia. Oh how I had missed the Americans always asking me that. I told him I was from London.

There was a break halfway through the poker so that the remaining players on the two tables could be put on one table. Gary was still in the running for the $100 prize money which considering it was free to enter was not a bad prize. I was introduced to Dino, the lovely woman running the poker night. She asked how I had done in the poker. I said that for my first time I thought I had done ok. She asked how I knew Gary and I explained about my travels and how we had got in contact. Gary and Dino headed back to the poker, leaving me at the bar. After a few minutes sitting alone watching the sports on the tv behind the bar a guy came up to me and said hello. We got chatting. He told me I had a nice accent and asked if I was from Australia. 

After the poker ended Gary, Dino and I had a couple of drinks at the bar. There was a cute bartender working, Casey, and he made us a round of Cocksucking Cowboys. I wasn’t sure my first few hours in Texas could have contained any more clichés – the poker, the country music, the cowboy related beverages. After Best Friends we headed back to Gary’s, via “the best little gay bar in Arlington”, a place called 1851 Club. I think it might be the only gay bar in Arlington. It was very much a local bar for local people type of place. It was fairly quiet it being a Tuesday night and everyone turned to look at us as we walked in. I was asked for my id at the door. I showed the doorman and he let me in. Gary saw my provisional licence and asked to see it. I explained that I couldn’t drive. I vowed that when I got back home to London I would take driving lessons. That said, I think I do much better as designated drinker and had had a thoroughly enjoyable first night in Texas. I wondered if during my time here I would get to check out whether everything was bigger or not...

“One more for the road, one more slug of gin” 
Lyrics from Master of the House from the musical Les Miserables 

A perfect team

The things we do, we do by threes. A perfect team

The things we do

Our next couple of days in Isla seemed to fly by. Mother and Karen were both still getting up early but one morning I managed to sleep in and didn’t get out of bed until 8am. We visited some of the local attractions despite the temptation of just sitting by the pool and lazing around all day. There was not a massive amount to do on the island with Tripadvisor listing only a handful of attractions for Isla. We did take in the main ones though including the island’s maritime museum and the turtle farm where they helped hatch and release thousands of turtles each year as part of an ongoing conservation programme. The entry into the turtle farm was a bargain at £1.50. I have never seen so many little turtles, the pools inside the main building of the turtle farm were absolutely full. Once they were a little bigger they would be released into the seas around the island.

In between being cultural we sat out on the terrace and played a couple of games, making our choice from the vast selection in the villa. We played cards, and once Mother finally got the rules of Newmarket we switched to playing Trumps. We played a word game called Snatch purely because of the name. After getting over the amusement at the name and playing one round it was decided it wasn’t the game for us. I’m not going to name names and say who decided that a game where you needed quick responses to do well wasn’t for us but it wasn’t me…

We moved on to another game where you were given 10 categories and had to come up with an answer for each one starting with the letter of the alphabet that you rolled on the rather large die provided. The game probably gave a more conclusive result than a DNA test as to the fact that me & Karen were related given the number of times we both put the same obscure answers in the hope of scoring a point. The game provided many amusing moments, the most memorable being when we had to name a US president beginning with O. You were allowed to use either the first name or surname. We all inevitably went for the same answer but I couldn’t help laughing at Karen’s paper. She had written “Barrack O’Bama” as though he had Irish ancestry, to be sure, to be sure.

We do by threes

For our penultimate day in Isla we had hired a golf buggy for the day. This was the traditional mode of transport on the island, at least for tourists. There were very few cars on the island, most of them being taxis. The locals seemed to opt for mopeds, often with more than one occupant. We saw one being driven with a whole family on it – mother, father and two small children. We had organised the buggy through the villa manager and it was delivered bang on time at 9am. We had wheels for a day! Karen took charge of the keys and we set off for a tour of the island. I sat in the passenger seat navigating. There was not much navigating to be done. The guidebook said that it was impossible to get lost on Isla as it was only 5 miles long and 0.5 miles wide at its widest point. There were only two main roads on the island, one on each coast. Mother sat on the bench seat at the back.

Karen picked up the handling of the buggy pretty quickly and fairly soon she had her foot flat to the floor. There are a lot of speed bumps on the roads in Isla, most of them pointed out by road signs. There was one however that didn’t appear to be marked which meant we hit it at full speed. We all bounced up out of our seats. I checked behind to make sure that we still had Mother on board. We did, although she wasn’t very impressed at being bounced around so much. As we got into the centre of town the heavens opened. In the heavy rain we missed the turn we needed and found ourselves in a dead end. Karen tried to turn round but didn’t have enough space to do a full circle. I jumped out & pushed the buggy back so she could then finish the turn. I was soaked by the time I got back in the buggy. We both said it was strange that the buggy didn’t have a reverse. We found the breakfast place & parked up. As Karen was locking the buggy up she pointed at a switch under the drivers seat. It was the switch to make the buggy go in reverse.

We had breakfast out at a great place called La Cazuela. Their speciality is a breakfast dish that is part omelette, part soufflé and totally scrummy. We all finished our breakfasts and left very clean plates. After breakfast we drove back down around the island using the other coast road. We spent most of the day driving round, trying to bounce Mother over as many speed bumps as we could. We stopped off to see a house built on a floating island. An English guy had built an entire house out of reclaimed and recycled materials and built it on an island he had made out of empty plastic bottles. It was a very bizarre place but made for an interesting tour, something a little different from the norm.

Our last full day was a relaxed one. After an early breakfast we headed out for a walk before returning to the villa to spend the day swimming and finishing off the last of the gin. By the time dinner came round we were all a couple of large drinks in. I’m not sure I have ever seen Karen really tipsy but she was definitely on her way there. As we ate dinner Mother left a piece of meat on the side of her plate. I asked if it wasn’t cooked but she responded saying it was a bit grizzly. Karen and I looked at each other. I raised my hands as though they were claws, said “This meat is grizzly” and let out a bear like growl. Karen got the giggles and was gone for about five minutes, tears streaming down her face. When she managed to compose herself again I raise my hands like claws again, and without even having to say anything she burst out laughing again. It was one of those moments where you had to be there but I can now just think “grizzly” and it brings a smile to my face.

A perfect team

The day for us to leave Isla had arrived. We had an early lunch and pottered about until it was time for us to get our taxi back to the ferry port. The three of us spent most of the ferry journey back over to Cancun in silence. From there it was a short minibus ride back to the airport. I took Mother and Karen into the terminal, made sure they were checked in & then did another round of goodbyes. Mother got a bit upset but I managed to hold it together, at least until they had disappeared up the escalator and through to security.

I was a mix of emotions as I made my way to the terminal for my flight. I was so happy that I had been able to spend a week with the family, sad that they were headed back home and I wouldn’t see them for another five months and a little guilty that I was going off alone to so many places I know they would both like to go to. Mother and Karen are constants in my life and being away from them has made me realise how big a part of my life they were when I was back home even though we didn’t always see each other that often. I’m very lucky to have them both in my life and probably don’t tell them often enough how much I love them. There is something Mother once said to me that has always stuck with me. Once when she was visiting me in London for the weekend she turned to me and said “If you told me now that you were straight I would be really sad because I don’t think we would do any of the fun things that we do now.” I love you both.

“The things we do, we do by threes. A perfect team” 
Lyrics from Together from the musical Gypsy

Play no more

Tear up your poker deck and play no more

Tear up your poker deck 

The first morning of Family Week and everyone was up by 6am. Karen and Mother blamed jetlag & normal routines. Karen is always up that early for work, Mother is a pensioner which makes her legally obliged to be up early so that she can be queuing outside the supermarket or post office waiting for it to open. We had coffee out on the terrace overlooking the crystal clear waters of the bay stretching out across to Cancun. Our first task was to get breakfast, either by finding a local eatery that was open on a Sunday morning or by finding the local supermarket.

We eventually made it to the nearest supermarket, but not after a couple of run-ins with the local wildlife. I spotted a small scorpion while I was in the bathroom. At least I spotted it while I was in the best place to crap myself upon seeing it. In a display of true manliness I placed the rubbish bin over the scorpion. It was a clear plastic bin so I was able to ensure it was still there, trapped and unable to get me while I showered. On the walk to the supermarket Karen nearly stepped on a rather large iguana that was sunbathing in the edge of the road. It noisily disappeared down the grate at the side of the road, making Karen jump and scream. We picked up some supplies and walked back. I helpfully pointed out all the iguanas to Karen so she didn’t step on any.

Once back home we had bacon butties with HP sauce. It was the first time that I had had HP since leaving and it set my taste buds tingling. It went on to my list of things that would need to be shipped over to me should I ever live abroad. Everyone was in the mood for a lazy first day so we decided we would go for a dip in the pool. Mother managed a great bit of comedy timing without realising it. Just as Karen came out of the villa in her bikini Mother announced across the terrace “I’ve just seen a massive bird!”. I turned and looked at Karen and burst out laughing. After we established the fact that Mother had meant a bird of the winged variety we spent the rest of the morning and into early afternoon lazing round the pool, sunbathing, reading and snoozing (with a little bit of snoring from Mother). I had told them that the week would be a fairly relaxed affair and they both seemed to be getting in to the spirit of it.

Punta Sur and the sculpture park

As the afternoon progressed we decided to go for a walk to Punta Sur, the southernmost tip of Isla. It happened to be about a 60 second walk from the villa so it wasn’t too strenuous. At the end of the island is a sculpture park, a couple of shops, a restaurant and the remains of an old Mayan temple, built in honour of Ixchel the Moon Goddess. Punta Sur is the first place in Mexico to see the sunrise, a small plaque on the Cliff of the Dawn marks where the suns rays first fall on Mexico. It was really nice to just be going for a walk with the two of them. I brought them up to date on my travels, explaining what I had been up to since the latest blog post they had read before they left. Having the blog meant that I didn’t have to repeat everything from my entire trip which was good. That said sometimes with Mother you end up repeating things several times anyway. Karen and I always tell her that she is becoming more and more like Granddad every day. I sometimes tell Karen that she will end up like Mother one day. She gets her own back by saying that I will too. I suspect she is right.

Play no more

After out walk round the sculpture park and down along the cliffs we made our way back to the villa. It was cocktail time so we cracked open the booze and some nibbles and settled in around the table out on the terrace to play cards. We started off with a few hands of rummy. After several rounds Mother said she wanted to play something different.

Me: What do you want to play next?

Mother: I don’t know, I only know rummy.

Me: Really? You must know loads of other card games.

Mother: Why?

Me: Well, because your generation played cards a lot, you know, before TV was invented…

Mother: You cheeky sod. We had a TV when I was young.

Me: Was it one of those ones that was the size of a small shed but with a teeny-tiny screen?

Mother: It was just a normal black & white TV. We did have a magnifying screen on a stand that you could put in front of it to make it bigger though.

I knew better than to make any more jokes. After being glared at for a while we settled on playing a game I have always called Newmarket. We would normally bet using matches or pennies but in the absence of sufficient of either we played using packets of Sweet’N Low. Whoever has the Ace of Spades starts the game. It was a game I taught to the girls I went on holiday to Turkey with the previous two years and we had got into the habit of doing head-banging (in the style of Motorhead) whenever the Ace of Spades was played (accompanied by the person playing it singing “The Ace of Spades, the Ace of Spades”). I explained this little addition to Mother and Karen. We had one practice round where we showed our cards, then once everyone was happy with the rules we had a proper round. About four games in Mother proudly started by putting a card down on the table and singing “The Ace of Clubs, the Ace of Clubs”. I went and got more gin, Karen rested her head in her hands in quiet exasperation.

Sunrise over Isla

We enjoyed a nice homemade dinner on the terrace and then watched a film to try and stay awake until a respectable hour at which to go to bed. Playing games, drinking & eating with the family made me think it was Christmas. I think we lasted until nearly 10pm before we all made our way to our bedrooms for sleep. The next morning everyone was up early once again. We were up so early that we could sit on the roof terrace and watch the sunrise over Mexico. It was so peaceful and a great start to the day. Having watched the sunrise we had coffee and breakfast the set out for a walk. We walked the entire length of Isla, which was about 5 miles. It kept us busy for most of the day. We got a taxi back.

Karen and I decided we would go for a bike ride while Mother stayed at the villa. We got the bikes out of the shed and had a little practice ride down to Punta Sur and back. I told Karen to ride in front so I could make sure I didn’t lose her. As we headed back towards the villa my chain came off and I had to stop. I called to Karen but she didn’t hear me and just carried on pedalling. She eventually noticed I was gone & stopped. Having got the chain back on & stopping to wash the grease off my hands we set off again. The brakes on my bike left a little to be desired but I managed. We cycled a couple of miles down the road we had walked down the day before. It was much more hilly than I thought and it was a good workout.

As we made our way back my bike slowly ground to a halt. The back wheel was out of line and hitting the frame whenever I pedalled. My practical skills as a mechanic didn’t stretch as far as being able to realign the bike wheel but I found that if I didn’t pedal and just freewheeled then the bike would go a little bit. The result was me sitting on the bike using my feet on the floor to push myself along. Passing motorists must have thought I was a complete idiot who didn’t know how to use a bike. It looked like I was going for the Fred Flintstone approach to cycling. Karen could hardly see where she was going because of the tears streaming down her face she was laughing so hard. It was nice seeing her laugh so much, even if at my expense.

“Tear up your poker deck and play no more” 
Lyrics from Follow the fold from the musical Guys and Dolls

Mama's good to you

Mama's good to you

Mama's good to you

Is it possible to take a holiday while you are on a year long round the world trip? Well if you can then Family Week was my week being on holiday. I was about to spend a week with my sister, Karen, and Mother in Isla Mujeres, a small island off the coast of Cancun. Even before I had set off on my journey I had been put in touch with Mama T, an amazing & lovely woman in Nashville. She had emailed to say that I could stay at their house in Nashville with their gay, Rhett. She also told me that they had a villa in Isla Mujeres and I could go there for a week in October too. It was an unbelievably generous offer given I had never met her, the introduction coming through a mutual friend. I knew that having a guaranteed week in a villa in Mexico would give me a chance to get Karen and Mother across to meet me while I was on my trip. We had discussed the possibility of meeting up somewhere but had decided that it would be pretty difficult to make it work what with the uncertainties in my itinerary and the distance that would need to be travelled for them to meet me in most places I planned on going.

I decided that I wouldn’t tell them about the offer until after I had been to Nashville, met Mama T in person and made sure the offer was still good. It was and I couldn’t thank her enough for giving me the chance to see my family. It had been really difficult to keep it a secret from them, especially when Mother kept saying how it would be hard not getting to see me for nearly 9 months while I was away. I was so close to telling her so many times but managed to keep it a surprise. After Nashville I told Karen, made sure she could get the week off work and then booked them flights over to Cancun. Everyone was very excited.

This would be the first family holiday in two years, the previous one being a trip to New York. I have two enduring memories of that holiday. The first was when we were inside the Statue of Liberty and Mother got her sweater caught on the handrail when going back down the winding staircase. She couldn’t move and all you could hear echoing inside the hollow metal statue was her saying “I’m stuck, I can’t move”. Karen, who was in front, just kept on walking down the stairs. I was coming down the stairs behind Mother so unstuck her sweater but not after taking a couple of photos. The other memory was trying to get a photo of Mother up the Top of the Rock. After several unsuccessful attempts to get a nice photo Karen turned to Mother and asked “Are you enjoying your holiday in New York?” to which Mother replied she was. Karen then followed it up with “Well do you want to tell your face?” at which point we all started laughing and I managed to get a nice photo. If there was one thing guaranteed during Family Week it would be a lot of laughter.

The stunning Casa Vaya Vida

In my head the family reunion would work like this. I would be waiting at arrivals as my flight to Cancun was due in a couple of hours before theirs. They would come out of the doors, see me, drop their luggage, run towards me and we would have a big hug. My flight landed on time, giving me plenty of time at the airport to find somewhere for lunch with wi-fi access to check on their flight progress. All good so far. I tracked their flight which the airport website said was due to land roughly on time at Terminal 2. When the plane status changed to landed I packed up my laptop and headed to the door where arriving passengers would come out. After a little while I started to wonder where they could be. I managed to find a rep for the company that they had flown with. She got on her radio to someone, asked about the flight and then told me it had arrived into Terminal 3. I went into full on sweary mode, muttering “Buggery bollocks” to myself.

Supplies from home

I grabbed my case and made my way to Terminal 3. There was a free shuttle bus between the terminals. As I waited for it I was approached by a man who asked where I was going. I told him I was only going to Terminal 3. He offered to drive me for $10. I told him I would get on the free bus that was just pulling up in front of me. By the time I had got to the right terminal Karen & Mother were stood outside waiting for me. Not quite how I had wanted it to go but there was still hugging. They explained that they had been there for a few minutes but hadn’t seen our minibus anywhere. I left my case with them and went for a quick look along the line of minibuses and taxis that were parked up. I found the minibus belonging to the company we had booked through but there was no driver in it. As I headed back I could see Karen waving at me. They had found the driver. We had all been expecting him to have a sign with my name on it but for some reason they had gone with Mother’s name. Sort of. There was a small mistake with the name board. We called Mother “Frank” for the whole journey across to Isla.

It was so good seeing the family again. I had not seen them since May when I went home for Mother’s 60th birthday celebrations. I normally wouldn’t have seen them again until October anyway for Karen’s birthday but I think the physical distance between us for the last few months made it feel like it had been longer since I last saw them. After a minibus ride, a ferry crossing and a short taxi ride we were at Casa Vaya Vida. We let ourselves in. The place was stunning, the photos of it don’t really do it justice. After walking round the whole place, picking bedrooms and unpacking I was given a couple of gifts. They had brought me a bottle of gin from duty free, a selection of Percy Pigs from M&S and a handful of sachets of HP sauce from Manchester airport. It was time for Family Week!

“Mama’s good to you” 
Lyrics from When you’re good to Mama from the musical Chicago