Tag Archives: ibiza

GSD

Ironic really, I am currently sitting at a place where everyone else’s holiday is just finishing, yet mine is just beginning.

Ibiza Airport – full of skanky ho’s that have been pumped full of tunes, drugs and spunk for the last two weeks – they just can’t get enough!!

I really did want to talk about that magical German efficiency that we are all well aware of.  My boss is German, the two Stewardesses onboard are German, the furniture people who arrived at the house in Ibiza are German ( all 4 of them) – it’s a full German team

Now you would expect exemplary efficiency from such a team but what I witnessed was one of natures biggest abnormalities, like flying fish or the San Andreas Fault.

So many Germans, with so many efficient plans, got so confused as to which plan was the most efficient and failed miserably to make a plan that took them forwards at all.  It was painful yet somewhat beautiful to witness and an even greater pleasure to step forward and tell them how to resolve it!  An Englishman promoting the G.S.D. Attitude to the Germans (Getting Shit Done)

Staying with stereotypes of Nationalities and still at Ibiza Airport, this is something I really need to share.  Burger King is something of a treat for me – regular readers will be aware of this.  So, to start my holiday, I hit the Burger King.  A Double Whopper with Cheese and Bacon XXL Burger.  It came as a meal so I got fries and a choice of drinks.  I am not much for the sugary soft drinks that come with it so I asked if I could have a coffee as part of the meal deal instead.  The girl behind the counter shook her head ‘No’, a brief moment of curiosity flashed in front of me.  She had said no to my request but not given me the ‘you’re fucked now’ Spanish shrug that I have become accustomed to after years of living and working in Spain.  She then listed all of the drinks I could have.

The last word out of her mouth was ‘Beer’!  I had to double-check – ‘So I can’t have coffee but I can have a Beer as part of my Meal Deal’?  Yes was her answer.

Now over the years, the Spanish logic has confused and infuriated me, yet on this occasion it actually made me smile.  I had beer with my burger and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Holiday Time


It’s not all work work work though

There are some small pleasures of doing my job.  In this case, it was the trip back from Ibiza.

We were anchor up at around 18:00 and underway and had opted for single crew watches.  Oscar the mate, took the first two hours, I took the second two.

Bit of a coup if I am honest with you – my watch was the sunset watch – only equalled by the sunrise watch.  Sometimes, if I am one real jammie git I get both but this was only a 6 or 7 hour punt so just the sunset watch.  After the carnage of the preceeding 6 days, the sunset watch always makes it all worth while.

Single crew watches are the best too – no polite conversation, no talking shit, no chewing the fat – just me, my tunes and two great big steering wheels – oh and the sun setting behind me. Fucking Magic !!!!

The decks were clear and the tunes came on – a couple of perfect sunset songs to start with, not deliberately selected, just up at complete random.

London Grammar – Strong (if you know this song you will understand why it is a perfect sunset tune)

The Middle East – Blood

Goo Goo Dolls – Iris

then after the sun was down, as if by magic

Maroon 5 – Moves like Jagger – just to liven things up a bit

It was the start of an epic two hour watch and let me tell you something – if I have to tolerate another 6 day slaughter to get 2 hours like that again, I will be at the front of the queue.

 

Moving on – The Great North Run emailled me the other day.  They reckon that based on my results of the 10k I did a few weekends back, my half marathon time will be 1 hour 50 minutes and 58 seconds. I reckon thats a load of old bollocks if I am completely honest, because I am aiming for 1 hour 45 mintues.  One of us is wrong, time will tell who.

So I need some suggestions – play list suggestions.  It needs to be upbeat but not too heavy something like glad you came – the wanted, this modern love – bloc party, A-punk – Vampire weekend……..that sort of beat.  I need 1 hour and 40 minutes of it.  The last 5 minutes I intend to play Rihanna – with a promise that I wont remove my earbuds until I am across the line, those last five minutes will be my fastest section of the whole event so that I can get the sound of that moaning bitch out of my ears.

Get sending your suggestions without delay less than 2 months to go.

 

 

 


Road to Recovery

Let me clear things up.  For those of you that think I simply ponce around the oceans of the world having fun – I have just experienced my most physical trip yet, and it was also one of the shortest.

The boat is 2 crew members down at the moment and the boss does not want to replace them.  Add to that the fact that we have a Captain that believes he is exempt from any form of physical work apart from flirting with the Boss’s female guests and you will begin to understand what has just happened.

 

Friday morning at 06:30 my alarm rang, time to wake up.  Prepare the boat to leave for Ibiza.  08:30, lines are off and we are on the way – about 6 hours or so to our destination.  First suggestion is that the boss will arrive by 20:00 so no big deal, we will be safely anchored off his new pad well before that.

Then the plans started changing.  We were in place and ready to receive by 16:00 but the plane would be later, now arriving at 22:00.  Easy, relax for a couple of hours.

The chef has the food prepared, the Stewardess has the tables made, all the beds turned down, perfect.  Then the call, it will be midnight before the plane lands.

Guest arrival at the boat is now estimated for 00:30.  The next dilemma is can the chef, Jean-Claude keep the food in a good condition, will the guests want to eat at all?  Arriving so late, they might just want to hit the sack.

Of course they want to eat – by the time they do so, retire and we get the boat settled for the evening it is now 03:00 – that’s a 20 hour day in the bag

Next day, up at 06:30 again to help the Mate get the deck ready as he has no deck hand.  Once the deck is completed, I can switch to washing, helping the stewardess as she is also short-handed.  Load the washing machine, unload the washing machine, load the dryer, unload the dryer.  Then into the Galley to help the Chef, chop chop, wash dishes, clean up.

Guests are up, and want to start filming and photographing the boat for its impending sale, so lets start doing our routine tasks over and over again so they can get good pictures and video.

Eventually, we get to evening service once more.  Another late one – 02:00 finish and I am looking forward to an extra hour in bed, a whole four and a half hours of sleep in front of me!!

It wasn’t to be my night though – ships alarm had me out of bed at 03:00.

After that – the  next 4 days seemed to blur into one another until we arrived in Palma again at 00:15 this morning, some 6 days later.  When we got in, I was so shattered, I felt like I had just crossed the Atlantic while clinging onto the boat for dear life.  I have never had such a busy trip as that.  At one point, the boat was so full of guests and film crew, we had 3 people sleeping on sofas – there are 16 beds on this boat !  Everyone had different arrival and departure times, most people kept changing their times and of course we had to go sailing too so that we could make some aerial films of the boat under sail.

We are due back in Ibiza on the 27th so that the furniture crew can stay on board while they deal with the boss’s house.  Thankfully, I have a flight booked from Ibiza to Mallorca on 31st, and then on to sunny Birmingham shortly after that.

I then have two full months of nothing – to which, I am greatly looking forward to.  I think I might turn my phone off too


Now, sit still and think about what you have just done.

Ibiza Ibiza Ibiza – what can I say ?

Do you ever miss the simplicity of childhood?  Never in my adult life has a Jam Sandwich fulfilled my dietary needs or requirements but as a kid, a jam sandwich was the perfect answer.  If I was really hungry, I would have 2.  Lunch or dinner, sometimes even breakfast – a jam sandwich was the way to go.

Later in life, our needs become more complex, the simple jam sarnie just won’t cut it any more

Ibiza – where do we begin?  Just back from a monster session on the island.  I realise that statement has many several meanings dependent on your outlook on life.  It could mean a huge piss up, a monster shagging session, a drug induced clubbing marathon or for the more musically blessed amongst you – maybe you were thinking about a live orchestral mash up.  For me, it was a 1000 mile drive, followed by a 3 ½ hour ferry ride with a 5 day sandwich of mountain biking across two of the Balearics finest islands before returning to the ferry and another 1000 mile road trip back to Brussels.

Nothing less than a red run every day, sometimes slipping onto a black run purely by accident.  Black runs make Rupert moan even more than red runs, and I thought making Rupert moan more was impossible – I achieved it on more than one occasion.  Next time I am going to pretend they are all red runs and head directly for the blacks.

Both bikes and riders have survived the tortuous week in mid 20º’s temperatures, dusty tracks, high speed runs (70kph or 43mph), two Balearic Islands of Formentera and Ibiza (in the same day, end to end and back again), covered just over 300km (188 miles) and climbed a total of 4800m (15,750 feet). The climbing was a particular highlight of mine.  Being both an avid thrill seeker and eternal optimist I have finally realised that climbing a mountain track in order to find the perfect downhill section on the other side, is nothing more than a fable.  The fact that you have to hold your bike above your head to clear the shrubbery while scrambling on loose rocks that even the most hardened hikers would find a challenge has not deterred me.  Reaching the top of the climb to look down into the opposing valley and realise that after that harsh ½ hour uphill climb with my bike – there is no golden path back down, no flowing sweepers where I might crack a new top speed record, no stunning scenery, no jumps, no nothing except the exact same condition that I have just endured on the way up, I now have to endure on the way down, bike held high above my head to make it through the plants all the way back down to the valley floor.  The only compensation is knowing that no-one will have ever been stupid enough to have taken a bike up there before.  It did remind me of a weekend in Genoa when I met a dog walker as I rode to the foot of the climb to the peak.  Even in Italian I understood him when he said you can’t get up there on a bike.  I smiled to myself and thought ‘ Oh yes I can – I am Johnny English’.  He was dead right of course, I carried my bike pretty much from the point where we passed each other, nearly all the way to the summit and then all the way back down the other side.

The tracks generally were very entertaining even though they took some navigating.  In true Spanish tradition, they started with something gold, got to the lunch time siesta and came back in the afternoon with corruption and nepotism to drag them down out of the top spot into a non podium finish.  The Balearics at its best and most natural – corrupt and nepotistic.  Signage and directions went from being too good to being non existent.  I don’t mind the adventure of navigation, I just think that riding a signed route shouldn’t be broken up with the need to look at maps and mobile phones to decide which way to turn at a junction. I wonder if any of the local government officials have completed these routes recently to see how good they are.

There – moan out of the way (that’s going to happen after a week with Poopie).  Apart from a few ‘minor’ navigational issues, the week was as epic as it ever could have been for two first timers there.  There is always room for improvement with experience, so next time, we will know a little bit more about what we are doing – whether we choose to apply that knowledge is a different matter, and in all honesty, highly unlikely.  All in all, I give Ibiza a big thumbs up as a biking destination.

Now lets get to the new videos.  There are 5 new uploads this week for your viewing pleasure.  Generally 1 from each day except day 4.  After covering over 140km on day 3, I had no energy left to keep switching on the Go Pro and capturing what we were doing.  In fact, day 4 was noticeably slower anyway so not worth covering.  The final day, I just lumped loads of long bits together and laid over some Ibiza modern classics – my mac could no longer keep up with my editing requests and was failing fast.

This alone, in the coming weeks will spark another mac v laptop debate as my admiration for all things Apple has been gradually eroding over the last 12 months or so.

So whats next for me?  I will tell you – pizza, cup of tea, afternoon of Xbox live then a run in the forest before sampling the taste of the long awaited 2014 Duvel Tripel Hop.

Sadly next week – I have to return to work

 

Don’t forget to watch the latest 5 videos.  Roll your cursor over the ‘Video’ tag at the top of this page, turn up the volume and enjoy.  Remember, all of these videos were filmed in HD on Ibiza or Formentera in real time.  There are parts where may think that they have been sped up but this is not the case.

A quick chance for you to welcome my 30th subscriber to these hallowed pages, please welcome Armada Boat Hire, from sunny Warwickshire.  I wonder if we can get 10 more subscriptions before our 10th birthday next year?

 

No Animals were harmed or unduly distressed during the making of these videos……………..  Well,  maybe one exception.

 

 


Shame on you Putin

10k – no shit !

I was surprised actually.  I pulled a great 10k with at least 75% of it in the forest and didn’t need to cop a squat on the way round.  I say surprised because I was convinced that I needed to drop a load before I left, and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t squeeze anything out.  I took a pack of handy andy’s as a safeguard but all was well.

Lets keep the subject on poop for a little longer.  As I was running along the avenue on the way back from the forest, I saw a woman walking her dog and letting it shit on the grass.  She made absolutely no effort to pick it up.  As I crossed the finish line for my little 10k jaunt, I felt something squish and slip underfoot.  When I looked down, I noticed a poopy bag.  Someone had gone to the trouble of bagging up one of their pooches poopies and then tied the bag and dropped it there and then – why would you do that ?  All that effort and all you have to do is drop it in a bin.

Staying with poop just a little longer – myself and poopie pants are heading to Ibiza next weekend for a mountain bike extravaganza. I already have several routes planned, one called ‘leg breaker’ which is rated as a black run.  The others I have are all rated red so expect broken bones.

So, for the first time in my life, despite several visits to the island, I am finally going to get to explore Ibiza.

I am bothered by recent events in Ukraine.  Obviously Putin is completely off his head and out of his mind – there are other side issues to consider.  Yesterday I thought I might go out in my famous red CCCP T-shirt but thought better of it, worse still, my big russian general coat is having to stay firmly on its hangar inside the house as I am sure there will be some protest at me wearing it.  I am not afraid of the protest, I actually agree with them – Putin is being a horses arse.  Now, if I suddenly and inexplicably disappear whilst on Ibiza next week, expect KGB involvement.

Work is beckoning and I really don’t want to go back.  It sounds heavenly having 2 months off with pay and then working for 2 months but if the programme is piss poor, it is piss poor.  I continue to look for something new and interesting.

A few things to sort out this week.  I started cleaning the windows on the house after the construction next door has finally finished.  The ones I have cleaned now look really good but the down side is that they make the others look shit.  Is that all I have to talk about?  cleaning windows!!  FFS

I sat in Delish Deli on bank street last week, eating some very healthy food.  Watching some oldies walk by, I started to wonder about what getting old holds for us.  Feeling the cold, pensions, fashion statements etc etc.  I wondered if I was actually experiencing a mid-life crisis.  Lets be honest, does anyone know what a mid-life crisis feels like ?  Maybe it’s that point were we begin to realise that potentially all that lays in front of us is the ability to get old. That would scare us surely?  So we over react to that and go out and buy silly cars, dress in clothes 20 years too young for us and take up pursuits that only teenagers should do. Does the fact that I am thinking about getting old actually mean I am getting old ?

 

There is more to life than this

 

 

 

 

 

 


%d bloggers like this: