A snowy, spring, Irish surprise (Rousse)

Posted on September 26, 2021 by Dreamaticus

It snowed all the way through ‘spring’ in the Republic of Ireland. Even in mid-summer big patches of the white stuff were piled at the side of the road and scattered in patches in the fields.

TPR and I were the guests of JG and BG. We came to the Emerald Isle as tourists, but before long we knew that we were set up as terrorist kidnap victims. BG confiscated our passports and my Kindle (crammed with contact details of key members of the British establishment), and the tall man to whom I had taken a fancy confessed that he was an IRA ringleader.

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Robert Frost and dye (Rousse)

Posted on September 24, 2021 by Dreamaticus

While I spent the summer months researching the life and work of Robert Frost, TPR was experimenting with green and purple hair dyes.

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A sequinned Queen (Rousse)

Posted on September 23, 2021 by Dreamaticus

With notice of about 60 seconds, we arranged ourselves in row to greet the Queen. I was the first in line.

She offered her white-gloved hand. I shook it gently while admiring the her elegant off-white sequinned dress.

When I asked about her summer holiday, she simply smiled and moved on to the next woman in our rather shabby line-up.

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Failing your finals (Rousse)

Posted on September 22, 2021 by Dreamaticus

I met old university classmates KH and SB for a cup of tea in the Scotsman Hotel before they left Edinburgh.

SB confessed that – like me – she had not been attending the final year classes of our French degree.  I wasn’t as worried as her about the exams, however, because I believed that if DM could wing them on no study whatsoever, then so could I.

It was almost by accident that we discovered that one of the language papers was scheduled for the same day. Although late, SB and I were let into the examination hall and showed to our desks.

I was horrified when I saw that the exam format made no sense to me. The questions looked like puzzles where missing letters and words needed to be added to French phrases and then translated into English. Had I attended classes, I would have learnt the technique to complete the paper.

I was surely going to fail my finals. My only hope of graduating was to plead extenuating circumstances to Dr B and beg for a place at the resit diet in August.

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A sexy orthopaedic surgeon (Rousse)

Posted on September 19, 2021 by Dreamaticus

I was looking forward to talking to NP and SF over the meal, but as we sat down to dinner one of the guests declared that he was an orthopaedic surgeon and very interested in assessing my leg pain. This seemed too good an opportunity to miss, so I followed him out of the dining room into a bedroom.

I modestly turned away from the surgeon to take off my trousers. By the time that I turned around again, the surgeon had completely undressed! Propped up one arm, he lay on the bed, his pale, skinny, body fully displayed. This was not the kind of medical examination that I had envisaged, so I stormed out of the room.

When we returned to join the others it was obvious that they now ‘knew’ that the surgeon and I had embarked on a love affair. Even my long-dead former colleague BT believed in this ludicrous myth.

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Hooking a salmon in one cast (Rousse)

Posted on September 18, 2021 by Dreamaticus

I walked along the river bank with my father. We saw a few people fishing, apparently without success. My father boasted ‘Watch me, I can pull one out with single cast’.

He stepped down to the water, expertly sent his line flying across the water, and instantly hooked a salmon.

All around were very impressed – I less so due to my familiarity with his amazing skills with rod and line.

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Luggage problems on Lewis (Rousse)

Posted on September 16, 2021 by Dreamaticus

Our flight from Stornoway was in two hours at 9pm and our only means of transport from Uig to the airport was a set of four brand new three speed bikes. Even if we were to cycle at top speed and reach check-in on time, we couldn’t take our luggage with us because none of the bikes had panniers.

I suggested that we arrange for a taxi to take our belongings, or ask another holiday maker who was also heading for the same flight to do so.

TPR disagreed. He said that we should come back for a long weekend in a couple of weeks and collect everything then.

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Poor plane facilities and a pair of pale green eyes (Rousse)

Posted on September 15, 2021 by Dreamaticus

JC booked a holiday for us all in Spain. She and her husband kindly collected us by car and drove us to the airport 300 miles south.

There were all sorts of problems with the plane’s facilities. My Canadian cousin DT was not prepared to use them, so forced the pilot to stop on the runway during take-off so that she could visit the bathroom in a nearby house.

Later during the flight, when I made an attempt to open the plane’s toilet door, the steward told me off for doing so.

I tried to make the peace with the steward by admiring her beautiful pale green eyes. As the words spilled out of my mouth I realised that I should probably be paying my compliments to a plastic surgeon.

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Husband hires hit man to kill off wife (Rousse)

Posted on September 13, 2021 by Dreamaticus

It was the end of our holiday. I had almost finished packing the bike panniers in preparation for our journey home when a man rushed into our room, then grabbed and bundled me into the back of his car. He set off at top speed with no heed of obstacles on the road. It was obvious that his mission was to kill me, and he didn’t care if he also died in the process.

Somehow, I survived the ride so I was able to join TPR for the train journey back to Edinburgh. All seemed back to normal again until we stepped on to the platform at Waverley. TPR headed off on his own without passing me my cycling helmet. He reached the house before I did, and was reluctant to let me in.

I now understood that TPR was behind the attempt on my life, and I needed to make alternative accommodation arrangements to guarantee my safety.  I could stay with my new neighbour AMcN. When she heard of TPR’s treatment of me, she clobbered him.

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Paul McCartney and ‘PS I love you’ (Rousse)

Posted on September 13, 2021 by Dreamaticus

Sir Paul McCartney was the surprise special guest at the party. All the tiny guests (aged six or under) seemed to recognise the celebrity status of the visitor, and gathered closely around him. When invited to ask questions, however, none was bold enough to speak.

I wandered over to the group. I had a question: had Sir Paul really written ‘PS I love you’ for my aunt?

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