Five star living isn't all it's cracked up to be

There is a very important lesson I've learnt whilst travelling and that is it doesn't matter what the accommodation is like, they all have advantages and disadvantages and that includes staying in a five star luxury suite in Cyprus. For one week I was very privileged to have been able to stay in such a place after I surprised my Mum at the airport. Before I met my parents my Mum thought I was in India but unbeknownst to her, my Dad and I had created a slight detour to enable the surprise to take place. I arrived in Cyprus the day before their flight landed and booked into a small family run hotel in the middle of Paphos which was very similar to a lot of the hostels I'd stayed in, it even had a usable kitchen which for a hotel is a bonus. I stayed overnight and the next day made my way to the airport. Due to the timings of the buses running to the airport I could either get one that arrived just at the time their flight landed or one that would get me in an hour early. I opted for the early bus and its a good job I did because halfway to the airport the driver pulls the bus over, tells us that he will be half a minute before opening the door and running off the bus. About two minutes later he runs back onto the bus and continues driving, the only reason I can think he needed to exit the bus was because he needed credit for his mobile phone as he spent the rest of the journey with his handset glued to his ear - there are just some phone calls that can't wait! Anyway I arrive at the airport and make my way to the arrivals area, look up at the screen with the flight details on and find out that my parents flight is delayed by an hour so I now have a two hour wait in an airport. Although waiting in European airports is something I have become a pro at after spending nearly 36 hours camped in Athens airport over three visits. I didn't mind the wait, it gave me a chance to get changed out of the clothes I'd travelled to the airport in and I had my book to read and other things to do. Eventually the time ticked by and it came to the big surprise. There I was, sign in hand that read 'Thurmott Tours', camera propped up just above and most importantly I stood in the best place to see the full reaction. I saw my parents come through into the arrivals area, caught my Dad's eye and waited for my Mum to notice me which didn't take long and the surprise was well worth it, the look on my Mum's face was priceless and the fantastic feeling of seeing them both again was brilliant. Once the shock had died off, Dad and I explained everything and the three of us made our way to their accommodation for their holiday. They were staying in a five star luxury suites hotel on the beach, something that was as new to them as is was to me.

On arrival at the hotel we were greeted by the porter and ushered into the VIP lounge where we were given a glass of champagne while we waited for the them to check us in. It was whilst sipping the champagne that we decided to ask to if I could be added into their suite as they were told they had a separate living area with a sofa bed. After much deliberation and negotiation the hotel agreed which meant I was being upgraded from a one star family fun hotel to a five star mega conglomerate suites hotel. And some people try to say that this travelling lark is tough! Having said that, I am well aware I am very lucky to have found myself in such a position although it gave me a chance to see how the 'other half' live. Each morning there was a buffet breakfast served until 11:00 and you can have almost anything you could think of, there was fruit juices as far as the eye could see, numerous varieties of water, champagne (white and pink) and then you came to the foods. Basically if you wanted it, it would be there. Every morning we would be shown to a table and every morning there would be a napkin on the table, for some reason this was always picked up by the staff and draped across our laps. This, I'm sure, is a measure to make you feel welcome but with a buffet and needing to stand up within seconds of sitting down became an annoyance more than a help. Then once we had collected our food from the buffet area we would make our way to the table again and more often than not, my Mum would get to the door that led outside and her plate would be taken away from her and then carried to the table by a man who looked surprisingly similar to Christopher Walken. Again this is a sign of respect but considering my Mum had already carried it successfully for twenty metres, I'd have thought she could have managed the final five to the table. This type of staff help or interference as I started to feel like it was, continued for the rest of the time and I'm sure it's how all the guests are treated. 'The guest must not do anything' which is fine and a welcome break but when a waiter is literally wrestling a bottle of wine out of your hands, things are getting a bit silly. Sometimes it is nice to be able to do your own thing and I actually felt a bit more restricted in what I could do staying in the five star hotel than in most of my hostels. Staying in a hostel is great because you have freedom, you have a key, a bed, a common room and more often than not a kitchen and a locker. The rest is almost literally up to you, staying in a five star hotel, you have a big luxurious private room but that's about as much freedom as you're allowed. After that you're ushered to sunbeds which have already been saved for you, questioned all day if you would like something to eat or drink and basically cared for as if you're incapable of moving. This may sound like I'm being ungrateful for the opportunity to stay in such a fancy place, I'm not, it was a fantastic experience and one that everyone should be afforded. Having said that I think if you want to pour your own water at the table whilst having dinner then you should be allowed that opportunity...at the very least you should be given the dignity that you'll be able to place a napkin on your lap without throwing it on the floor!

Why not rent a car for the day...what's the worst that could happen....

I was in Crete, I had met some really nice people at my hostel, a group of people with a very similar mental attitude as myself. Something I found out fairly quickly after we started playing 'Duck, Duck, Goose' on the beach at midnight before heading back to the hostel to play 'Wink Murder' with a couple of made up stories created by me in between. This was all on the first day I'd met these people, yet another example of how crazy life in a hostel can be but anyway the day after playing children's party games we decided to rent a car. As I was the oldest and seemingly most mature of the group, even though the games were all my idea, I said I would take on the driving responsibility. One of the reasons for this was because I hadn't driven for nearly three months and I'd never driven on the right side of the road before. It would definitely be an experience, one I would surely never forget and I don't think I ever will after the events of the day.

We received our car at about 11:30 and as there was seven of us we were given a people carrier...another first for me as my car at home is a small three door hatchback. I was told by the hire company that I would be covered by the insurance as long as I wasn't driving under the influence of drink, drugs or excessive speed. Fairly sure I could keep to those stipulations we all bundled in and we were on our way. The route to our destination, a beach about two and a half hours away called Balos, was very simple - get on the highway and stay on until you see signs for Balos. Well that's easy enough I thought, we drove to the edge of the little town we were staying in and saw the sign for the highway so we followed that...only to realise I'd taken the road too early and we were going down a road adjacent to the highway. After a quick three point turn I set off back down the road we'd just driven and eventually found the way to the highway. This time we really were on our way. As I said the route was very simple, it was just one long straight road. The journey there was very enjoyable, we had a round of 'The wheels on the bus go round and round' continuing the children's party theme from the night before and a very short rendition of 'Old Macdonald had a farm' before I pulled over to get some fuel. After the fuel stop the conversation turned to a much more serious nature: 'what were we going to name the car?' This sparked a number of different suggestions but in the end we decided to plump for Bessie due to the size and colour of the car. Bessie started off as a big white people carrier but it wasn't long before the dust from the road gave her some nice brown patches, similar to that of a large cow so Bessie was the most apt name. Bessie trundled on towards the destination and after a couple of hours we saw signs for Balos. We followed them and it was only when we started to climb up a mountain that we thought we might not be going the right way to the beach. We pulled over and asked a sightseeing couple to point us in the right direction and they told us we'd passed the turning about a kilometre back. So once again I was required to do a three point turn, this time it was made slightly trickier by the fact it was on a narrow mountain road but I achieved the aim with success...if I hadn't I don't think I'd be writing this now somehow! Anyway we set off in the direction we were redirected, found the turning and made our way towards the beach. En route we went through some very narrow streets that I think I would have struggled to drive down in a smart car let alone a massive bovine styled people carrier. Having said that we got through and made our way to the entrance of the beach. We were required to pay 1 euro each to enter and were then told the car park was a further 7km away. 'That's fine' we thought, 'ten minutes and we'll be there'. Half an hour later and we're still trundling along this road, the reason being it was an unpaved dirt road with large rocks protruding out of the road surface ready and waiting to throw you off track. Eventually we found the beginnings of the car park and while looking for a place to park we were distracted by the sight of a goat sat on the side of the road looking out over the fantastic view off the side of the mountain. When we got closer we realised the goat wasn't sitting, it was in fact squatting, it was literally having a pee with a view, apparently even goats realise that if you have to go to the toilet then you might as well do it in style. Leaving the urinating goat to it's view we found a space for Bessie, the only problem was the necessity to parallel park on the edge of a mountain in a car about as maneuverable as a fat person on an EasyJet flight. I actually managed to park it on the first attempt, I think the thought of certain death if you fail is quite a good motivator! Anyway we parked up and made our way to the beach. We spent a good few hours in one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen although we did make sure we played 'Duck, Duck, Goose' and 'Stuck in the Mud' in the water before we had a little round of the 'Hocky Cokey'. It's a good job the hire car company didn't see this behaviour, they'd have most probably had us sectioned instead of letting us loose in one of their vehicles! By the time it came to leave, we'd had a very enjoyable day and the sun was just starting its fairly rapid descent to the horizon when I got back to the car. I said I'd pick the others up so I got back into Bessie and drove down to the others, they suggested I turn around and seeing a fairly spacious car park I thought it would be easy. It would have been easy as well, my third three point turn of the day, the one least likely to cause an accident...well that would have been the case if the sun wasn't in the most awkward place in the world. It was literally just below the sun visor and my sunglasses were about as useful as a chocolate teapot. I was fairly blinded and not seeing any cars in front of me I guessed it was clear in front. A thought which lasted all of two seconds as I managed to drive right on top of two extremely big rocks, obviously the reason for the lack of cars in front of me. The massive 'bang scrape' was enough to stop me in my tracks and the bumper swinging off as I reversed back suggested that I'd done a bit of damage. On closer inspection we found the bumper hadn't been screwed on at all, it was just pushed and held in place by the wheel arches by the look of it. Seeing this we decided to push the bumper back on as best we could, I managed to successfully turn the car around and we set off down the dirt road again. After about 5 minutes of driving we stopped to inspect the bumper again and it was starting to come off again so we got out to repair it. We'd pretty much just got it back in place when we heard shouts from inside the car...it was rolling down the mountain without anyone at the wheel - the handbrake clearly doing a fantastic job! One of the guys jumped into the driver's seat, yanked the handbrake up as far as he could and the car stopped once again. We went back to continue fixing the bumper and this time we heard a fairly satisfying click when we pushed it into place. It took about an hour to complete the short 7km stretch over the dirt road, routinely checking the bumper was still in place before we made our way back to the highway to drive the two hours back to our hostel. Thankfully the bumper held firm although the guy in the passenger seat did check the bumper every so often...we didn't stop, he just lent far enough out of his window to be able to see. One of the reasons for this was we were up against a time limit to return the car. By the time we arrived back in the town we'd started from we had one last check of the bumper and all seemed fine, the company didn't quibble it either, even if they had I'm fairly sure I would have been covered by the insurance...I wasn't drunk, I definitely hadn't taken any drugs and considering the bump occurred whilst the car was moving at 2mph, I think I qualified for the not excessive speeds part!

Just don't miss the boat....

There's a fairly common expression about the missing the boat to mean a missed opportunity or chance to progress your life in some way. I'm pleased to say that I'm fairly sure I haven't missed any boats in that way...I did however manage to miss a physical boat. It was during my 'mini break' from travelling, by which I mean I spent three weeks sat on a sunbed by a swimming pool with my very good friend from home; Sally. It's not really what people go travelling to do but then what are you supposed to do whilst travelling if you're not enjoying yourself and those three weeks were very enjoyable and relaxing...apart from perhaps the unfortunate luck with the boat.

It was at the end of the second week when we decided to go on a couple of boat trips, one up to the north coast of Kefalonia, the other to visit the island of Ithaca. The trip to Ithaca came first and we needed to catch the boat at 9:15 and we were told to wait at the port, I was given a fairly vague description of where to stand - 'opposite the ferry place' were my instructions. Knowing we had to be at the port for 9:15 we thought we'd get up in plenty of time to get up and out of the door so we didn't miss the boat. With this in mind we got up at about 7:30, considering our earliest wake up to this point had been about 10:00 it was a bit of a shock to the system. Anyway, we got up, got ready and left for the port at 8:15 giving ourselves plenty of time to amble through the quiet streets down to the port. It turns out we had completely misjudged the distance as we made the walk in about 15 minutes and had plenty of time to kill. We went into a small souvenir shop and had a look at the area around the port before we went to sit in a sheltered waiting area. The waiting area was next to the ticket offices for one of the ferry companies so I guessed this was the 'ferry place' from my instructions. We sat and waited for about 45 minutes before we heard the horn of the boat blaring out as it neared our location. I had a look out over the water and saw the boat so made our way to the water's edge which was 'opposite the ferry place'. We stood there and watched as the boat completely by-passed our position and was stopping on the complete opposite side of the port; realizing our mistake we set off walking around the port as the boat got closer and closer to the dock. We thought 'It's that far to walk and they obviously need to allow other passengers on, the boat will wait for us - surely'...surely not was the result. We got to within a stone's throw of the boat, just about to signal it down when it starts to back up, before we can walk another two paces the boat has swung itself around and is motoring off on to its destination of Ithaca. If we'd been late waking up or if we'd got lost on the way to the port it might have been easier to accept but the fact we'd been waiting in the complete wrong place for the best part of an hour definitely left a sour taste in the mouth. This was made worse by the fact that all the way back to our hotel we could see the boat slowly moving through the water, a boat that we could have been on if not for the fairly appalling instructions. When we got back to the hotel I rang up the company and re-booked the trip for another day, this time we knew exactly where to stand.

The new trip day arrived and we knew we could get up slightly later this time and so we did. We walked to the correct part of the port where we were intercepted by a drunk Greek guy - I say he was drunk but I'm not sure that's the right terminology when someone is quite clearly never sober! The reason I knew this was because it was just before nine in the morning, he was fairly well gone and his morning tipple was a bottle of homemade wine. He encouraged us to sit with him and chat while we waited for the boat so there we were sat at a table in the shade while a drunk Greek guy regaled us with stories of his homemade wine...he only stopped talking to say Kalimera (Good Morning in Greek) to a passing car that clearly wasn't beeping at him. Thankfully we heard the boat blow its horn and we hurried to the water's edge eager not to miss it this time. We started walking to the place the boat had stopped on our last attempt and were slightly shocked to find it pulling in to a completely different part of the port. It was at this point when a white haired man came running out of nowhere, literally, yelling 'Follow Me' so we did. The drunk Greek guy was hot on his heels and we weren't far behind...we weren't missing another trip! We boarded the small vessel and were told we could pay on the boat and that one of the staff would find us. The woman who had told us she would find us kept walking past, almost as if she'd forgotten we hadn't paid. Sally and I looked at each other to suggest that we thought we might be getting a free ride...that was until our good old drunk friend pointed us out, what a joy that man was to meet! I shouldn't begrudge paying too much as the trip was very good and we got to see some parts of the island we wouldn't have been able to see otherwise but after all of the confusion with the poor instructions and boat deciding to change its docking point everyday it would have been a sweet end to the day. I know someone who got a very sweet end to the day...our Greek friend, he disembarked and set off in search of his remaining wine reserves, I doubt he remembered much about anything by the time he went to sleep!