Travel Diaries – America

Last year, i was presented with an opportunity to go on holiday to Florida in April 2019. The holiday was at a heavily discounted price, but there was a catch. The catch was that i would have to go with, and be at close quarters with people for fourteen days.

I knew this would be a cluster of anxiety provoking turmoil, but i am incredibly sick of the mundane cycle of life, so i took the opportunity to broaden my horizons.

I enjoy flying on planes, but i was initially horrified when i heard that the flight operator was Virgin – because i had previously read an article that there was a two alcoholic drink per person policy on board.

Luckily, there wasn’t. I ended up motoring through Tiger beer, wine and whisky like there was no tomorrow. I was able to abuse the complimentary drinks on offer by getting members of my family to order drinks on my behalf.

With every tremor of turbulence, i felt a giggling sense of excitement that we would go hurtling into the Atlantic ocean. My first sense of enjoyment arrived when the cabin crew had run out of one of the meal options. I think it was pulled pork. Some people were absolutely devastated and outraged about that.

Going through immigration is very bizarre. A million questions about why you are entering the country. Tailbacks of queues because some old aged pensioners are being cross examined about their sinister intentions.

No one’s flocking over to live under the rule of one of the biggest retards in the world, don’t worry lads.

The first thing to note is that there is a strange divide between incredibly fat people and thin people. They are either grossly obese, Michelin man heart attacks waiting to happen, or they are in good nick.

The first error i made was not getting intoxicated enough before entering the theme park for the first time, to enable me to deal with the nauseating surroundings. I should have known this because of the violent heart palpitations i had during the first night of arrival, it was my subconscious warning me.

As usual in these circumstances, to correct this – the next time i resorted to drinking whisky and beer at 8am in order to prepare myself to deal with human beings during the day.

I also purchased a steel flask, filled it with beer and concealed it in the undercarriage of my nieces pram. Enterprise at its finest.

Of course, this led to me traipsing round theme parks heavily intoxicated and more dehydrated than a nuns cunt.

This was particularly apparent when i went on THE INCREDIBLE HULK at Islands of Adventure. Bloody good ride that is. The problem with roller coasters is that there is virtually no element of risk. Even if there was 5% chance of a severe injury, at least it would keep you on your toes. I just find myself wondering if my hernia is going to explode or what i’m gonna get from the liquor store that night as i go round.

They aren’t the most graceful of things either. I’m not sure why people spend a shitload on a picture of themselves with hands in the air looking like they’ve had a stroke. They are good though. I just think you have to be 12 years old.

There was a prom at the Hard Rock Cafe one evening as well. It was an absolute perverts paradise. If some of those freaks who go round revealing themselves from under a knee length Mack in the UK were there, they’d be fucked.

On the subject of perverts, i bet sunglasses were invented by a pervert. I never wear sunglasses because they piss me off, but upon wearing them i notice you can look at absolutely anything and they haven’t got a clue where you’re looking. Now i think of it, Jimmy Savile always had specs on.

The day i need to wear specs is it for me. One of the only things evolution has gifted me is good eyesight and hearing. Hearing is a hindrance to be honest, i’d prefer to be deaf.

The time had come to visit a water park, Volcano Bay to be precise.

There were some spectacular sights, mainly the female lifeguards, however – this was by far outweighed by some truly horrendous sights.

My favourite was the woman with the Wonder Woman costume on. All sorts hanging out all over the place. Fair play to her, and i give her my complete respect for having absolutely no inhibitions. If she was on a wind up, she is a fucking genius and my new idol.

The men go without saying. It absolutely baffles me that women can be turned on by men. The only saving grace is that i hope i caused the same distress to other people as they did to me.

It’s further proof that there is no god. Surely if there was a god, and he made human beings in his own image, women would all look Ariana Grande and all men would look like Peter Crouch or someone.

Imagine if this shit was In the UK with 57 year old Jayne and Terry from Bognor Regis rocking about with their sickening fucking frames bulging out of their costumes. It doesn’t bear thinking about.

I’m surprised more people don’t get wedged in the rides like Homer Simpson at Mount Splashmore.

The first ride i went on, the girl operating it asked me whether i was excited to go on the ’Ko’okiri Body Plunge’. Another utterly pointless question i have no idea how to answer. She received a grunt and a shrug.

A personal favourite and a memory i will forever treasure was some lad in his teens saying “Can i get a high five” as i passed him in the rapids. I eagerly obliged and he let out a “Woo”. It was fucking magical to be honest.

I also amused myself by imagining myself going round fully suited up. Dumbfounded cunts looking on as i go flying down rides in a three piece suit. I might do this one day.

As it transpires, that girl who had earlier asked me whether i was excited to go on the ‘Ko’okiri Body Plunge’ might have got a different response than a grunt had i known what it was about.

Nicely fuelled by five pints of Corona Light and two double Jim Beams, i embarked on the 259 steps up to the top of this volcano thing for the ride.

Basically, you stand in some tube with your arms and legs crossed, a trap door opens and you drop down vertically. I fucking enjoyed it to be honest.

I am more than willing to go on the Jeremy Kyle show to prove the validity of this next part. About ten minutes after the ride, i had a SEARING pain in my chest.

I tried to walk it off but then i started seeing stars before CLATTERING in a heap on the floor. I must have passed out for a second because i awoke on the floor with some bloke saying “HEY MAAAAN, YOU ALRIGHT?”

I stumbled up and made it back to where everyone was. Laid down on the a sun lounger for ten minutes and i was back to normal. It felt like Goldeneye on the N64 when you’re about to die and the screen keeps flashing blank. We left shortly after, with everyone’s fun ruined.

I suspect it was a combination of dropping vertically through a tube, accumulated alcohol abuse, the heat and lack of hydration.

To polish off the first week i attended The Kennedy Space Center. Now this was much more up my street.

I have always had a fascination with Space. It is probably because of a deep rooted desire to float alone in the vastness of space.

I’ve been there years ago, and if anything, it’s got better with the new additions. I had a bloody wonderful time. I even bought a Nasa hat and i don’t even wear fucking hats.

I would go on a one way mission to Mars in heartbeat under the right conditions. My skill set? I’m exceptional at moaning and i’m pretty good with finance. I quite enjoy gardening as well – i’ll have whale of a time watering the plants during the terraforming process.

I would like to dedicate my visit to the flat earth society. Genuine fucking idiots and they aren’t worthy of any further comment.

The second week was spent in the city of Naples, Florida. Apparently, this is one of the most expensive places to live in america. Fuck knows why because there is fuck all there.

My heart sank when i realised it was a beach town mainly populated by saggy titted pensioners with skin like leather jackets.

Early on, we attended a Red Lobster. I have to say, the meal i had was fucking sublime. If i was rich, all i would eat is steak and seafood.

However much i enjoyed the meal, shortly after i almost got caught short, before violently emptying my bowels in a local pharmacy toilets. Still a magnificent meal all the same and no regrets.

There was also a trip to Naples Zoo. Again, this is right up my street. I love most animals on earth aside from human beings, snakes and mosquitoes.

I was pretty underwhelmed by the selection of animals to he honest. There were no tigers, the panther was nowhere to be seen and the leopard was mincing about up a tree all day.

I was most interested in seeing the cats, mainly the tigers – and having a beer and banana with a monkey. They didn’t even have any fucking monkeys.

I did actually have a word with a parrot upon entering. I asked him why life was so shit. All he appeared to be able to respond with was Hi or Hello.

Naturally, being a beach town, there were inevitably trips to the beach.

Yeah they were okay. They certainly beat Barry Island or Penarth Pier. Mainly because the sea wasn’t like raw sewage water with syringes and condoms floating about.

They are generally all the same though. Not very exciting are they. People desperately laying like pigs in the oven crisping their skin like crackling. Any more than a few days of this is enough to bring on schizophrenia. 

On the penultimate day, i visited a gun range. Basically, it’s more hassle buying a 4% pint of Corona Light than shooting a loaded gun.

I literally could not give a shit about their gun laws, i just find it bizarre that all you have to do is sign a disclaimer on an ipad, watch an 8 minute YouTube video, hand over your driving license and away you go.

Unfortunately, this was one of the only days i wasn’t drinking heavily from 8am, but it wouldn’t have made any difference if i had been.

Psychopaths, borderline personality orders, schizophrenics – yeah come in lads and fire a lethal fucking weapon.

There was a family in there. Youngest was a girl about ten, and they are all having a go at firing 9mm Glocks.

You are left to your own devices for a lot of it as well. So you could technically run amok with multiple loaded weapons. What a great way to go out, shot dead by a ten year old girl.

I fired a 9mm Glock and a Revolver. They are bloody powerful let me tell you. Some decent shots but i am not ready for MI5 just yet. I did cut my thumb on the 9mm though as it was in the wrong place when the barrel kicked back. I maintained my dignity by drying up the bleeding on the the back of my shorts.

Another issue i had was that my safety goggles kept steaming up because i sweat like a fucking horse. I felt like a pervert at Roath Park lake on a hot summer’s day.

I have to say the instructor bloke was a top man and i would happily have a jar with him in deafening silence. He was very passionate and enthusiastic about his job, and to top it off – he had flowing long blonde hair down to his arse.

The first conclusion i would draw from this momentous experience is that it is incredibly expensive. This is not America’s problem though – it’s the Pound Sterling being on its fucking arse. I have every right to moan about this as well, because i didn’t vote to leave the fucking EU.

The tipping culture is also a bit strange. I have no idea whether you tip everyone or only certain services. Bartenders for example, i don’t mind tipping them, just how much and how do you tip them?

Do you inconspicuously slip it over the counter, do you do the fake handshake leaving the note behind, or do you stick it between their creases of flab?

A few of them seemed to get arsey when i didn’t tip them. Make some clear fucking rules then, and i’ll tip you, you cunts.

Reading this, people may well come to the conclusion that I am a hopeless, pathetic drunk. They’d probably be right. I have worked out that it takes between 4-6 pints to bring me to the equilibrium of how ‘normal’ people function.

In my defence, i only usually drink Friday to Sunday. It’s not really a practical solution but aside from being deaf or invisible i can’t really think of anything else.

I do plan to travel alone in the near future. I genuinely think i would find it easier as there are less people to annoy me and i can switch off with zero human interaction. The problem is, it’s gonna be carnage when i collapse again in the middle of jungle somewhere.

I am pretty disappointed i never heard the term “If it wasn’t for us, you’d be speaking German”. Or people rocking about with “Back to back World War champs” T-shirts.

Some people say they need another holiday to recover from the one they’ve just been on. I don’t, i just need a couple of weeks in solitary confinement.