Team M Versus Waspman

Jof went to work again today so we made sure we'd already organised something to do.
Grandad only lives 40 minutes away now so we took him a suitcase. It's the same suitcase he borrowed last year to take to Phnom Penh and this time he's taking a cruise from Rome to Venice, although the scheduled stop at Sousse in Tunisia has been dropped from the itinerary.
We picked him up and drove into Romsey, stopping in the free car park by "The Rapids", part of the leisure centre. I've been there with Jof and now was a chance to go back.
We confused the receptionist because all of Team M have this ability, and as a threesome we're quite talented. He walked into town to get a haircut and we did the Rapids. I showed Bud the giant bucket of water that tips up periodically and we were showered by it at least 3 times. We queued up for ages to go down the long waterslide, which was funny but not as sunny as the ones in Crete.

We went round and round the powered water circuit which pushes you round, and got stuck on the bubblers and crashed into lots of people and we both lost our orange wristbands, making us illegal immigrants with no documentation.
But after only 2 hours, our time was up and we hit the nearby Luzborough pub because it too has free parking. Now, I've been here before and it has a secluded walled back garden with rope climbing thingy so I approve totally. In fact they hadn't even chosen a table before I was on the suspended tyre apparatus making a traffic jam. That's when 2 girlies set up a bouncy castle. This over-rides tyres and I took it upon myself to organise the younger denizens of Romsey into several loud bouncing matches.
Both Grandad and I had kid's fish'n'chips and so did the wasps. I am allergic to the idea of wasps and hopped and quarkled and leapt around like a disturbed individual whenever the stripy hordes descended. But I managed to eat my food before bailing in favour of more bouncing.
Back at the Manor, we swapped some of my old school pictures in order to make a giant collage of all my pre-fame official snaps. He gave us a pot of Seagull Poop which is just raisins in chocolate but it's the thought that counts. Leaving Grandad behind, we got a replacement light bulb for the garage pub and a massive picture frame for me!
Later, I chose "Eraser" as my Schwarzenegger Saturday night film because it's funny when he's got the super destructor-weapons and the wise guys are cool.

All the World's a Stage

Welcome Ladies, Gentlemen and others to the 2015 production of All the King’s a Stage. Please extinguish all cigarettes, place your seats in an upright position, keep heads and hands inside the ride at all times and switch off all mobile phones for the entire duration of the performance.
Well, this one was an 11 1/2 hour working day. I'm practically a junior doctor.
Jof dropped me off at the King's Theatre and I rehearsed all day. When I said I was in Singing in the Rain (a fella with an umbrella) Bud said is there a policeman so they added in the part just for me!
We did 3 numbers from Hairspray followed by 3 solo events.

Then I came on alone and announced that I had won the Golden Ticket (my solo effort was missed by the guys filming so is lost forever) and that kicked off a Chocolate Factory song'n'dance extravaganza.
3 more solos later, we did Singing in the Rain. My Policeman bit was brief at best, strutting across the stage wagging my finger, but I have a natural talent for that. Then, as we did Synchronized Umbrella-ing, guess who got the dead one. Yes, I had the one with only 4 of the 6 spars functional and a lock that wouldn't engage, and when we gathered in a group, mine folded itself up and retired. The show must go on!
And so it did, with 3 further lengthy solos and 3 numbers from Orphan Annie. All the way through, a portly gentleman came on and read falteringly from a folded magazine and introduced each set. Then right at the end, we reprised You Can't Stop The Beat as our finale.
I started this as a spoken word method actor, if it's written down, I can declaim it. But this was entirely musical with some highly talented ballet and tap dancing and I had to join in the chorus line manoeuvres like everyone else. My singing and dancing abilities have gone from none to lots in one week although I do still fidget and scratch my face (sunburn).
Some of the older performers have clearly done this before a lot and the 7 foot ballet girlie and Zoe and Leilani may well go on to greater things. But so might I. No photography was allowed but we got a DVD of the performance, it'll be a collector's item when I get my second Oscar.

A Fella with an Unbrella

Today at acting it rained lots outside so we couldn't eat lunch in the park. We went over our dances and we'd forgotten the one from Hairspray because we hadn't done it since Monday. Since then, they've added some Annies (not Arnies, as I called it), some Charlie and the Chocolate Factory numbers and even a Singing in the Rain for us chaps.
We have to wave umbrellas, dance around a bit and sing "I'm just a fella with an unbrella, glad to see that skies of blue have turned into skeis of grey", if you're to believe my written notes. Plus, I get the single longest spoken line in the entire performance - "I've found it! I found the Golden Ticket! I'm really going to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory!"

Act I, A Lad Insane

I felt much better today having had some sleep, who could have thought it'd make so much difference. Perhaps if I went to bed before 10 on a school night I'd be literate by now.
Anyway, at Stage School today we warmed up and went through the first songs a few times and then did auditions for solo spots but I'm just not ready for that yet.
Then we had lunch in the park by the JohnnyBobs' school and I ate my lunch sat in the metal tube in the climbing frame, so the Government couldn't steal my thoughts.
We have 3 new songs which are from Annie and I have to be a starving orphan trying to get some sleep while being harassed by an evil harridan so just like home life really.
Afterwards we went to the Box Office and got our FREE tickets for the Friday performance, just hinting in case anyone else wants to see it. The BBC is sending a filming team, I should probably tell them I've been interviewed by the Beeb before.
Then we were just crossing the road to get to the car and there were 3 guys outside the stage door having a fag and the Theatre Director shouted over to Bud and said he couldn't begin to say how well-behaved I was in class, and he was right, he didn't begin, I guess we just have to believe him.
Then we saw Jof's car, so I wrote a note saying You've got a Fat Bum and Bud put it under her windscreen wiper, we would have got away with it but I made the schoolboy error of signing it Love from Max and Bud, classic mistake there.
I'm still under orders to get enough sleep but came downstairs at half nine saying the football match was too noisy. Pompey were busy beating superior Derby and were shouting and singing a bit. They pointed out that 5 days ago I woke up on an empty plane because I'd slept through the landing.

Act 1: Making a Scene

Today I did another 8 hours' hard labour at the King's Theatre. There really is a lot of dancing. In addition, we have been given 2 more songs to learn, this time from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Every time I sat down between takes, the other cast members were dancing away, so all I got in my eyeline was jiggling botties. I am gradually becoming aware that in the future this may be interesting.
Then I found that as the 1 boy I thought was younger than me is 10, just shorter than me, I am in fact the youngest there.
The strenuous all-day dance regime meant that by the time it came to my gymnastics lesson, I was hinting heavily about how tough my day had been, and that I had hurting leg syndrome (cramp, with additional sofa-envy) and when he still wouldn't let me off I resorted to sobbing on the floor. These acting lessons are really paying off, we agreed that I'd have supper and go straight to bed instead, and I always have hope that I can persuade Jof to let me off.
As ever, it was a compromise and I was in bed with lights off before 8pm, possibly a personal best. Personal worst?
In other news, my engraved spoon arrived in the post. While spoons are not necessarily exciting, this one was worth 4 large boxes of cereal. I shall call it Archbishop Runcible-Spoon.

Act 1 Scene 1

Today I started a week-long acting course at the theatre. Well, I was under the impression that I'd be declaiming and strutting and speeching while gazing into the eyes of skulls or Modern Major Generals, but the production is a musical called Hairspray and we've got 3 songs to sing and dance to.
In fact the dance moves are long and complicated and it's not just wave and clap and sway and repeat x 596, it's a big long body-speech in hops skips and jumps. First we warmed up and got a tour of the building and learned about the rake (sloping stage that enables every player to be seen and heard from anywhere in the auditorium) and the lightbulbs on the extremely distant ceiling (changed by pulling them into the attic) and the expensive seats in the front 5 rows (where patrons might get glimpses up the skirts of the dancers) and how the cheap benches cost a penny per seat.
There were only 3 other boys, and I was the second youngest student. It was a full-on 8 hour day, at least when I get to be an adult my working days won't be anything like as long. At home I made up for it by playing Minecraft on 3 different devices, but I did love my first day.

Lolster Thermidor

Actually woke up at a sensible time and accepted soft fruit and Greek croissanty-type things with a smear of chocolate nestling within. Our fridge is extremely empty and once Jof had accepted the same sort of breakfast, Bud went to the supermarket and I cornered the tablet, and the computer, and the TV.
Briefly I allowed myself to be dragged to the park with a Frisbee but then the lout that had pestered me nastily a couple of Wednesday parks ago asked to join in, then challenged me to football and we made our excuses and left.
Ben has returned from the dark side of Dorset and we met at the beach, arriving by bike as you should. We found 2 highly valuable sticks and saved them for posterity. The beach was very busy and full of French people, hard cheese considering I've just left Greece in order to escape them. We did go in the water a bit but played mostly and I took him back to mine for some X-boxing and KlansKlashing and Lego and supper, at which we both asked for more vegetables.
This is the contradiction in terms that we are. Later I tried to get chocolate but was told my pigging days are over, it's all my shrinking trousers, you know.
But I am quite pink and hot and my skin is peeling around the shoulders and cheeks.

Homeward Bound: the Hollow Building

They woke me up at 8 something and I wanted at least 8 hours more sleep. I was on the 4th floor of a Business hotel attached to the North Terminal of Gatwick airport and already I was feeling the joy.
I had so much to look forward to. A bed into which you could sink and lie comfortably. A shower that you could control. A toilet that would accept toilet paper. An environment without cicadas. Food that I could recognise.
We pootled down to breakfast having taken the lift to the 8th floor just to drink in the view. Breakfast was hauntingly familiar with self-service fried food, cold meats and fruit, foreign serving wenches, orange juice on tap and complicated breads you had to cut yourself. We took advantage of the £13-a-head meal and rolled on.
Packing for the last time, we took the covered walkway back to the North Terminal, the hovering Monorail back to the South Terminal and the wandering freebus back to our car.
The journey up to Gatwick had been beset by pointless delays, of which the Chichester bypass was only 4. We elected to take the M25 instead and ran into our first holdup on the M23 where we used our handbrake on a motorway yet again.
3 further accidents caused slow-mo transport including a horse box on its side with attendant fire engine, those horses are so flammable. Guildford insisted we pass at a sedate trundle and the big signs over the M27 said terrible delays, go back but once we'd used some back roads to avoid it we found them to be lying. Plus we got to hear England winning the Ashes.

At home we got out all the booty and made a pyramid of all our dirty laundry and I mostly played on the tablet. 18 sea urchins made it through the luggage handler's tender touch and we're all glad to be home.

An Ap-peeling Day

Our last day as honorary Cretins. Our sunburn is peeling a bit, especially my nose and cheeks. We desperately tried to pack as much of our booty as possible into the suitcases. Much of it is fragile eg the clay pot I made and the sea urchins, we had to leave a lot of them behind.
Plus we'd specifically targeted many of our older clothes and toiletries for abandonment to save weight. The big problem lolloping over the hill like a deranged elephant in the room was a 6 1/2 hour disjoint in time, something we needed Doctor Who to fix. We had to be out of the room by 12 noon, but the coach transfer to the airport was not due until 6.40 pm. There's just no way you can sit in reception for 7 hours while the sun is shining and the pools are splashing so we tried to extend the room, but there was no room at the inn, the hotel was full.
So we had to ditch the luggage into the dedicated luggage room, keep our swimming trunks on all day, use the 'Shower Room' at the last minute and change into our travelling clothes just before summary eviction. I gave 2 guns, a mask/snorkel and the rubber ring to Sam and Tom in return for 4 hours play, a splendid arrangement.
Lunch was al fresco in the poolside restaurant, the first time we'd tried it apart from the stolen cups of tea in the morning (Jof cannot function without tea). As ever, you only find stuff out on the last day. There was a large rumble of thunder but no rain.
After last-minute playing in Pool 2, we got to the designated shower room which was room 712, opposite the Spa we didn't use. This was the 'Family Room' to which we tried (and failed) to upgrade last week. It had 2 bedrooms, 3 beds, a bigger clothes rack, a hairdryer that worked and a shower that was so manic, the pressure exiting the shower-head forced it upwards and backwards so it was showering the opposite wall (yes).
We were miffed. Still, we used lots of towels and got to the reception area on time although the bus was 1/2 an hour late. It was a double decker so I sat upstairs and babbled about where we would go for our next holiday.
Our 'Priority Check-in' was well worth the 30 Euros as we segued past the very big queue that stretched outside the building and the X-Ray woman confiscated the expensive olive oil and we bought rum and chocolate in the duty-free (where we could buy exactly the same olive oil) after a surprisingly tasty burger.
The pilot kept going on about how fast he was flying and how the tail-wind would make us early but it still took ages and we all got stiff botties. Personally I reckon he only says these things to keep us quiet, knowing that he'll have to make up excuses later about unfavourable winds or congestion in Andorran airspace when we get in 40 minutes late. I saw the French coast and the English coast and then 5 minutes out from landing, I fell asleep in the window seat and woke up on a empty plane.
We caught the monorail to the North Terminal and found the attached business hotel down the tunnel and it's hollow inside with a giant hexagonal atrium and very swish with it. I watched some of a Bond film and crashed out.

You Pay You Pay Unexpected Kostas

Late to breakfast today which meant we could easily find a table and watch the white-skinned Newbie intake who had arrived on the late flight, hah, what amateurs.
So I secured a sunbed on Pool 2 and we brought the rubber ring and some guns and did watery horseplay for ages. I decamped to the Pirate Pool and shot some more new friends and then one of them spanked Bud's bum which was truly deserved but he got a big telling off from his Dad which wasn't.
Today's deaths were Bud's mask/snorkel set and a second watergun, may they be landfill in peace. Afterwards we pottered off to the local sandy beach, only a few hundred yards west of the hotel.

We passed a splendid example of classical Greek architecture which sporadically dots the countryside from towns to deserted hilltops. The concrete frame is finished, but nothing else. This particular skeletal erection stands in half an acre of desert and is currently home to 5 stray dogs.
There were rockpools and waves and seaweed and topless sunbathers and then a man ran out and said You Pay You Pay so we argued about whether we were going to stay stay and pay pay and I griped about my personal rash for the 100th time and Jof got angry and left us to it, with just 5 Euros to pay Unexpected Kostas the Youpayman.
As it happened we bobbed up and down in the surf for ages and got stones in our shoes and I walked back home like someone who really needs to visit the GUM clinic. Kostas never asked again, so we didn't pay.
On the way back we popped into the seafront church. It's clearly new, nothing historic here. But the Greek Orthodoxy love a bit of colour, gold spangly dangly things and spectacle so I investigated behind the priest-only swinging doors, why not.
Back at the ranch, I applied E45 cream to my Gentleman's area and sat quietly which is exceedingly rare for me.
Today is our last full day here so we took our stash of Roubles, Shekels and Groats and visited the 2 bizarre Bazaars adjacent to the hotel. Both have uninspiring low-quality exteriors, gaily bedecked with blow-up dolphins etc but once inside, they go a long way back and are welcomingly air-conditioned Caves of Aladdin.
I got 3 Cretoid fridge magnets and a motorbike made out of scrap metal. I also loved the metal skull and gun section but they all turned out to be cigarette lighters, and I hated the attractive seashell section because it was topped with dried inflated puffer fish, that's an airplane cabin weapon they haven't put on the proscribed list.
Bud got 7 bottles of unpronounceable booze, we only have visual clues on 3 of them which may (or may not be) honey, melon and kumquats, there's a 4-candles joke if ever I saw one.
There was a complete display rack of wooden and metal carved willies. I don't know what this says about Greek men.
Jof bought me brightly coloured T-shirts but then also got lots of pointless plates, dishes, jars and ornaments together with luxury olive oil and anti-rash cream which stung severely when applied to my nether regions which Bud did while I read a book. Packing is going to be interesting.
Supper was not exactly Cret-a-manger with further arguments about food groups. As per before, I arrive at table with pizza and spaghetti, Bud says try again, I go back for something different and after extreme culinary investigations, come back with spaghetti and pizza. This was when Jof bailed from the argument-storm and hid in reception.
We took her some stolen stollen and chocolate cake and witnessed part of the 'Miss Stella Beauty Contest 2015'. When Jof was 15 she entered the Miss Crete 1957 parade in which they had to put a giant nappy on a man, walk with books balanced on head etc. Tonight, they had to strut, work a chair in modelling stylee, and pose in various Playboy positions. Second act was 'Stella Bra-tography' in which they had to persuade as many brassieres as possible off the studio audience leaving many of them going Commandette.
The purloined pap-pouches were then scored by size so the lacier items from the friskier members were low-scoring whereas the pendulous reinforced granny-retainers and whalebone over-shoulder-boulder-holders were heavier-scoring.
But Bud had to retrieve Jof so I played manic run-around with Sam (5) and Tom (7) and various sisters, none of them mine. This, on a day when England bowled Australia out for 60 (Broad 8-15 off 9) was a fitting end to our Cretinoid shenanigans, I just hope our house is OK. Jof's phone does not work here so for all we know, Zoe is texting come home now, house burnt down.