Fun in the Sun...

I know I worried about the weather in the days leading up to this holiday, but I can honestly say that as the rain lashes the plastic awnings that have been lowered around the bar, and I stand here with my bare feet in the sand, the storm is a relief after a scorching day.

I feel a bit like a 21^st Century Hemingway… in the place of a typewriter I have Microsoft Word with the additional benefit of Photoshop so I don’t have to write that much. To my right; an ashtray, a lighter and a packet of cigarettes. To my left; a pint of lager. In front of me; a colourful backlit selection of bottles of alcohol. Behind me, but 46 paces away, a bed… and Sims.

It’s blowing a hoolie outside and I couldn’t care less. The sweat is dripping off my nose into the sand. It’s been another fantastic day in Paradise. The highlight was yomping about on a Yamaha motorcycle with Honda Goldwing plastic bodywork and water wings. Yeeeeeeeee Haaaaaaa!

There’s a “Start” button, a “Stop” button and a bit of curly plastic that cuts the engine off if you pull it away from the button that you attach it to when you get on; so when you fall off the thing doesn’t carry on screaming towards Sri Lanka and leave you bobbing in the sea at the mercy of the sharks. In the place of the front brake is the accelerator. That’s a bit different. There are no brakes. And the road rises to meet you like no road I have ever ridden. Jesus H Christ!

After the surprise of being given a life jacket that actually fitted me, getting my corpulent frame onto the beast was the biggest challenge. Sims has told me that it was not an altogether inelegant mount, but by the time I’d got my sorry arse in the saddle I needed a rest. Then the fun started. After a tentative pootle about it all got to feel a bit familiar, and so, applying the front brake, we shot off into the deep blue waters with terrifying speed. Bloody Hell!... Well, as a Harley rider, it felt like terrifying speed.

The first time we took to the air I thought “Wha-Hey!” only to be totally blinded by spray when we thumped down… hard. “Oh shit!” I thought. We got around the island in about 15 minutes. For the most part I couldn’t see a word… and wouldn’t have known if our wake was a trail of fish bits and diced snorkelers or not. We were lead around the island by some lucky bastard from Bournemouth who’s here for six months as the watersports guru. He was kind enough to take the pictures. After 20 minutes of flying, thumping and not having a bloody clue where I was going I was absolutely exhausted...

 So it was back to the bar for some fortitude… and terra firma.