8th-13th December 2007 - Viva Las Vegas

Talk to anyone who’s been there, read as many books about it as you can lay hands on and watch all the TV travel features and you’re still not ready for Las Vegas. It’s a place like no other; a 24 hour playground where anything is available, whenever you want it and in bucketfuls. A hedonistic paradise on a massive scale where not one dollar has been spared in making the first-time visitor’s mouth drop open in amazement. The same probably applies to the second, third, fourth-time visitors and beyond too. Vegas is a living entity that slowly renews itself as time goes on. Older hotels are pulled down and replaced with even grander multi-billion dollar themed pleasure domes containing designer shops, theatres, restaurants and bars. There are nightclubs, swimming pools, exotic animals and much more, and certainly not forgetting Casinos. I can’t begin to adequately describe the place here, only really what we got up to during our brief stay.

Of course like just about anywhere else in the world there are some who won’t find it at all to their taste, but unless you have compelling religious or financial reasons not to, I’d sincerely urge everyone to visit Las Vegas at least once before passing judgement.

This trip had been masterminded and expertly planned by Rollie who from the moment we decided this was the trip for us twelve months ago, had spent hours making sure everything from booking the flights, hotels, transfers and shows was as smoothly efficient as if carried out by a German!

And so Lynda, me, Rowena, Rollie and two debutantes to these pages – Sue & Martin - boarded a Virgin Atlantic 747 full of Ricky Hatton supporters and left Gatwick bound for LAS – McCarran International Airport. Sue & Martin are very close friends of R&R’s but we’d only really met them a few times before the holiday. Enough times though to know that we were going to enjoy their company on this trip, a premonition that turned out to be spot-on.

Because Mr Hatton was fighting in Vegas at the MGM Grand that night, our travelling companions were primarily fight fans heading either to the arena itself or one of the hotel big screens showing the event live. No surprise then that roughly halfway into the flight, the crew were forced to close the bar as they were in real danger of having no alcohol to serve on the return leg.

We arrived at McCarran feeling surprisingly refreshed and in high spirits. It was after all only lunch time and although the others had been to Vegas before on more than one occasion, Lynda and me were Sin City virgins and as such were like kids at Christmas in our anticipation of what was to come. After persuading the courtesy coach driver that (a) We had booked him to take us to Treasure Island, and (b) we weren’t real pirates, we and all our luggage were safely aboard and a few minutes later after much 'oohing' and 'aahing' at the hotels and casinos we passed on the way, we were standing outside and admiring our home for the next four nights.



The check-in formalities complete, we arranged to settle in and then meet a bit later on for a drink before dinner. Although the rooms weren’t the ‘King Size’ that we’d booked, we couldn’t have been more pleased with the enormous twins we were allocated instead. It seems that the weekend we arrived was not only a pugilism-fest, courtesy of the Hatton fight, but it also coincided with Vegas hosting the US National Rodeo finals. This explained the vast number of cowboys milling in and around the hotel, which was one of the designated Stetson friendly hotels for the duration of the event. It also explained why rooms were being chopped and changed. Our four travelling companions were delighted with this turn-up, all of them being keen riders (although I don’t think any of them have bucked a bronco) and had not long come back from a riding holiday in Montana. They immediately regretted not bringing their Stetsons; I regretted not bringing chewing tobacco.

Our room was big enough and contained enough double beds for Lynda and me to have slept in a different configuration for each night of our stay!! We should have smuggled you onto the plane Amy, there’d certainly have been enough bed space for you.



Totally confused by the time difference but not caring about it at all, we checked into our extremely comfortable rooms, unpacked, eventually worked out how to use the safe, showered and changed then re-convened for the first Margarita of the trip. ‘TI’ has about six restaurants, two night clubs a massive theatre and loads of other things including probably a rocket launch pad. One of its noted eateries is ‘La Isla’ – top of the range Mexican food. Perfect for helping the Margaritas go down. A few drinks and a meal just finished us off. Little surprise really as it was around 5am for our bodies, which were wearily flung into one of our many beds. Food and drink are a very important part of the Las Vegas experience, certainly a very important part of our Las Vegas experience and we started as we meant to carry on.

The next morning, fit and only slightly fuzzy, we woke to a bright, crisp morning and flung back the curtains to take in the unique view. It’s not beautiful in the rolling hills or seaside way, but it’s impressive nonetheless. A little bit spoilt by the large number of cranes busily engaged in building new multi-billion dollar pleasure palaces but for all that it’s a view like no other.


This being Sunday morning we’d arranged a slightly later start, fuelled by the hotel’s Champagne Brunch and a marvellous choice it was too. $20 for the brunch and champagne, $17 for the brunch on its own. The cashier unreasonably however refused let us just drink champagne for $3 so we stumped up the twenties and boy was it worth it. It’s not often any of us turn down champers but at eleven in the morning we had to admit defeat after four glasses and so reluctantly turned the waiter away. We had these super breakfasts every morning (minus the champers), the favourite being at Wynn’s across the road - superb. Not only are they great value but we also filled up so well that we didn’t want a lunch, leaving us with more time for sightseeing and more money for beer.





We’d decided that we’d really just spend the days looking at the different hotels, the evenings eating and drinking and a show, then at some point near the end of the stay fit in a bit of shopping. Vegas, for us anyway, has an almost unreal quality to it. We felt as if we were in a giant film set, an adult Disneyland. That’s not for one second being critical though as everything is done very well and everywhere is spotlessly clean. The hotels, casinos and boulevards may not be to your taste but you can’t fault the complete customer orientation of the whole place. Yes it’s designed to take your money, it doesn’t pretend otherwise but it makes sure that you’re supremely comfortable, impressed and well fed and watered while it does it.

The highlights of Sunday included the Venetian, a $1.5 billion dream, themed on the canals of Venice, complete with authentic Gondoliers, The MGM Grand, where the fight had been the previous evening, The Luxor – pyramids, Anubis, Sphinx naturally, and The Hard Rock Hotel with its fantastic collection of rock memorabilia. The hotels were amazingly impressive and soon Rollie and I were deep in conversation pondering how we could replicate one at home using MDF and ‘No Nails’. This is still a work in progress. The biggest kick though was the Roller Coaster at ‘New York, New York’. Rollie had been dead keen to have a go even before we left the UK. Lynda was up for it too, as was Sue. I’m not noted for my love of looping the loop but thought ‘what the heck’. Rowena and Martin – wimps – were left to hold coats, bags, glasses, false teeth, etc while the rest of us went for it. Bloody hell!! The ride was pretty hairy, especially that pull up the first big climb, but it was great fun and Sue screamed out a few words I’d never heard before so it was educational too.



That night we wondered up to Fremont Street for its music and lights extravaganza. A fine meal washed down with equally fine Margaritas at Tony Roma’s first, then out into the street to gaze up at the incredible computer generated canopy that covers the street and that on the hour flashes gigantic images to a big, loud soundtrack. We finished the evening off with a whiz around the Beatles themed bar in The Mirage, then shivered in front of the hotel’s incredible volcanic eruption – yes that’s right, a volcano that erupts on the hour – before falling back into TI.


We kicked the next day’s tour off with a look around the inside of the Venetian. Amy had stayed there earlier in the year mainly because it stages ‘Phantom’ – her favourite show. She’d told us how amazing it is but we’d no idea though until we saw it for ourselves. St Mark’s Square, blue skies, Italian arias sung by Gondoliers as they punted romantic couples through the Grand Canal. You do have to remind yourself you’re really in the middle of a hotel in America. From there we dropped in at the Bellagio, famous for its incredible fountains whose nighttime displays set to music are spectacular. Caesar’s Palace followed and then Paris. We’d not long left Venice and we were now taking photos of the Arc De Triomphe and Eiffel Tower, the latter we went to the top of for some spectacular views of the strip and beyond. We then wondered around the Planet Hollywood Hotel before going back to TI. That evening Lynda & I had tickets for Cirque Du Soleil’s show ‘Mystere’ whilst the others were off to a Beatles Tribute Show at the Sahara. Lynda and me tried another Amy recommendation first for dinner – the Bellagio buffet. We weren’t disappointed; they have everything on offer and at a very reasonable price. I did have a good go at eating everything but after the third visit my trousers couldn’t take any more. Back to TI via the exotic car display at Caesar’s and settled in to our seats for the show. A quick word about the Theatre. Why do Americans tolerate our West End? We love the London theatres but there’s no escaping the fact that the seats are ridiculously tiny, the legroom virtually non-existent and the proximity to your neighbour bordering on intimate. The bars are stupidly small and packed and the whole thing woefully lacks air conditioning. Compare this to our Vegas experience. Comfort and dimensions of an armchair, independent reclining backs, legroom that would please most basketball players and the need for a mobile phone if you want to speak to the person in the next seat. Air conditioning, perfect views and totally audible sound system topped off the experience. I’d have even sat through three hours of Celine Dion in those circumstances. The show by the way was staggering. The talent of the performers was awe inspiring and even we with the Bellagio’s buffet bubbling away inside our tummies watched in complete comfort.

Tuesday started with a monorail trip to mop up some of the hotels we’d not yet seen properly, including Wynn’s. That was followed by a trip – chauffeur driven – to a nearby retail outlet centre. We managed to grab some real bargains, particularly in Timberland before making the trip back to TI. Our car was a Lincoln Escalade; the closest thing to which we have in the UK is Mount Snowdon. This thing is massive, has a 6.2 litre engine and is like being driven around in your favourite sofa. So impressed were we that we booked it to ferry us to and from that night’s treat – dinner at the Stratosphere. Towering over Vegas and commanding the city’s best views, the Stratosphere is crowned by the Top of the World restaurant, where we were eating. The restaurant revolves very gently, a complete revolution taking around ninety minutes giving diners stunning 360 degree views of the city. We arrived and were whisked up to the top in the high-speed lift during which the lift attendant gave us stats on the tower, none of which I can remember. Go yourself if you want to know how tall it is, etc. We kicked off with a marvellous cocktail each and then were paged to our table. The food, service, wine, company and views were fantastic. It was a real experience to remember, our only mistake being that we ordered far too much food. A twenty-ounce steak is huge, trust me.

From there we were chauffeured to Mirage where we hit the Revolution nightclub. The 60s detail was spot-on, even down to the Go-go dancers in the shortest of dresses and white boots gyrating on the bar. The only thing we could fault it for was the band they had on. Not a bad band, but totally not in keeping. Didn’t spoil anything though, it was still a great night.

The next day was our last and so we really whizzed round a few places in the short time left before we had to head off to the airport. We just had time to see the wonderful lions, tigers, leopards and dolphins at the Mirage. Fortunately they don’t keep them all in the same pen as not only would that be very silly, it would also prove quite messy. In a scrap between that lot I can see the dolphins wouldn’t come out too well at all, despite their incredible intelligence and supreme ‘aah’ factor – especially the baby Sgt Pepper, they lack large pointy teeth and razor sharp claws.

At McCarran we had a farewell row with the check-in staff who due to overbooking wanted to sit three of us in the baggage hold, two on the flight deck and one in the outside loo. Roland was magnificently British and his very impressive authoritativeness, and my menacing scowls ensured we all got to sit in the plane and all together. Not before though security was called - loads of guns it must be said for six quite non-argumentative tourists - and we were threatened with being kicked off the flight.

The trip was a triumph. We’d had a great time, seen some brilliant things, drank some splendid cocktails, lost thirty quid on the slots and were almost deported. It’ll take some doing to top that mate! Thanks Rowena, Rollie, Sue & Martin for the company and the laughs and a special thank you to Rollie who did a fantastic job of putting the whole trip together with ‘No Nails’ and MDF.

November 2007 - Happy Birthday Dear Blog

A year ago this month I decided to start keeping this record of mine and Lynda's travels and the wonderful people we've been with, or met on them. In some respects this year (as they always seem to when you get older) has passed in the blink of an eye but looking back over the posts on this blog I can't believe we've managed to do all that we have in just twelve months. Sorry Ron, I wish I'd started it before the New York trip !!!

It all started with the Lobs trip to St Cezaire last November and so much has happened since that trip to Bryan & Sandra's lovely home on the Cote D'Azure; places we've been to, what has been going on in all our lives, family additions, milestone birthdays and how much weight we've all put on. I hope you've all enjoyed even a little bit seeing yourselves immortalised in this obscure travelogue.

For me, the blog has been a great way of cementing in my memory the details of every trip we've made since it started. It's also been the perfect place for looking back and laughing when I start to take things a bit too seriously. But best of all it's been a constant reminder of how lucky Lynda and I are; firstly to have had the opportunity to do the things we've done in such wonderful places, but more importantly to have you all to do them with.

So, there it is. Thank you so much every one of you. Lynda and I raise a glass to you all and keep our fingers crossed for many more such times in the future.

14th Nov 2007 - Madrid Madness

So we've just wrapped up this parcel of magazines to send out to Ana in Madrid. Lynda weighed it and we were looking on Royal Mail's website to see how much it would cost to send it. £26.50. Sounds a lot but it was to be fair a pretty hefty package. 'I bet I could get a bloody flight out there for the day for not much more' says I. A few deft clicks later and we'd left Royal Mail and were now checking out Easyjet. Early flight out, late flight back the same day, £32.00. So for £5.50 more I could deliver the parcel personally to Frank & Ana and even squeeze in a couple of hours with the kids. 'Excellent, do it' was Frank's assessment when I rang him up the next morning, so I did.

'Shame Lynda's not coming' said Frank & Ana a couple of days later. 'It is' I agreed 'but if she booked up as well then it would certainly skew the original business case'. 'Shame I shan't be seeing everyone' said Lynda a couple of days after that. So, what the heck, we booked her on the same trip. Never let it be said that we knowingly do anything sensible. But if life was about being sensible, well, we'd all shop at Lidl's.

That’s why we found oursleves in the very familiar circumstances of being in the departure lounge at Luton Airport, very early in the morning, waiting to catch a flight to Madrid. Lynda eyeing up the handbags and me dribbling over whatever supercar was being raffled that day. Plenty of people moan about no-frills airlines; they’re basic, poor customer service, etc. But we love them because they’ve made the world so accessible, and if for the sake of flying to Krankenschunakker for three quid you can’t go two hours without a complimentary bag of nuts or a Coq au Vin from a 4” x 2” foil container, then you have to be pretty desperate. Ok, there’s the green debate. There we are then, we’ve just had it. Job done

It was damp and bloody freezing when we left Luton but the Madrid morning, although cool was bright an sunny. No hold luggage meant whipping straight through Passport Control to the waiting Ana and Frank and minutes later we were speeding away from Barajas Airport. Frank had planned a day in Alcala de Henares, an attractive medieaval town half an hour out of Madrid, famous for being the home of Spain's oldest university and more so for being the birthplace of Cervantes - he of Don Quixote fame.

We spent the morning catching up and laughing as we wandered around the lovely old palaces and squares in the sun, stopping for a coffee and churros. Come lunchtime, Frank unveilled the day's culinary highlight. He had booked a table in the town's Parador. http://www.spanish-fiestas.com/parador/alarcon.htm should tell you all you need to know about Paradors, and this one in particular. An inspired choice on Frank's part as it turned out because the meal and service were absolutely first class. Better than that, at 29 euros per head for the three course set lunch it was incredible value too. Even better value was that Frank & Ana very kindly picked up the tab as an early birthday present. Thanks chaps - marvellous!

We had lingered over lunch (well it is Spain) and then shot back to the car to go to collect the kids from school. We found a place to stop in the school parking scrum that's the same the world over, then Lynda and I went off to hide while Ana fetched Pablo, Sofi Carla & Andi. The kids didn't know we were coming and so we planned to surprise them when they got back to the car. Our cover was almost blown when they came out of a different gate than planned but we still managed to creep up on them at the car and spring the surprise. Their faces were a picture and after some huge cuddles we piled into the car and went home. The shame is that they thought we were joking when we told them that we were only there for the day.

There we exchanged groceries - our traditional English for their traditional Spanish - handed over the magazines and then enjoyed a couple of hours going wild with the kids. Bass playing, twixie floor mops, quizzes, it's amazing what you can fit into such a short space of time.

Eventually though time did run out for us and it was with huge regret that we took our leave of Ana, Pablo, Carla & Andi to head back to the airport with Sofi & Frank.

A quick wander around the shops then we were boarded and off. The day relied heavily on Easyjet playing their part with regard to the flight times and they were spot on. We were back home and tucked up in bed by midnight, still almost incredulous at what we'd done that day. We'd had a fantastic time and anyone that thinks it's too long, or means getting up too early, or they'd be too knackered the next day, well, just think again.

Thanks to Frank, Ana and the kids. We love and miss you all but now we realise you're a good deal closer than we thought.

2nd-4th November 2007 - It's Football-tastic Up North!!!

Blackburn. Not a destination that most people would first think of when planning a weekend trip away. But did you know that in Blackburn you can step back in time to an earlier age and discover the treasures of a bygone era? The history of Blackburn travels back many centuries: Bronze Age people lived here and the Romans certainly took a passing interest. A fine Roman museum now exists at the village of Ribchester to the East of Blackburn in the Ribble Valley.


When travelling through Blackburn, an ancient Roman, Marcus Hughesius, dropped his leather water pouch and bending over to retrieve it accidentally kicked it. A fellow Roman kicked it back to him. Marcus bought it under control, flicked it up in the air and volleyed it back again. Loads more Romans joined in and all had a splendid time kicking the pouch around an open field for around 90 minutes. "I shall call this game footius and the park we played it on Ewoodium". To this day the game has continued in Blackburn, but not just as the preserve of Roman nobility with their motto ' Ponis mei caput filius’, it's even been known for a Savage to play it there too.

Lynda and me, together with Lynda's splendid brother Neil, his equally lovely wife Maz, made the what should have been 3 hour'ish trip to Blackburn - actual time 5 hours thanks to the roadworks all the way up - for a weekend of football, fun, food and one or two drinks. Lynda had made sure we were properly fuelled for the trip, having picked up four massive pasties on her way home that day, which were soon demolished.

Our first appointment was at 7 o'clock when John our host was picking up Neil, or Lightning as most people know him as, and me from the hotel to whisk us off to a Sportsman's Dinner at Ewood Park, the home of Blackburn Rovers. John is yet another splendid fellow whose only fault is that he supports Blackburn first and Liverpool second. Thanks to the slow trip up we only made it to the hotel with five minutes to spare before we were being collected. A record-breaking shave and change later the boys set off for Ewood leaving Maz & Lynda not entirely sure what their evening would bring.

Once at Ewood we met the rest of our table guests, including Norman, Tony and Davey - all great company and able to drink to Olympic standards. It wasn't long before we were putting those skills to the test as we eagerly laid into the very acceptable beers and wines on offer. The excellent meal over and our guest speaker got to his feet. Footballing legend John Aldridge. 'Aldo' has had a great career to draw on for his material; Newport, Oxford, Liverpool, Real Sociedad, Tranmere and the Republic of Ireland. A brilliantly funny and thoroughly engaging speaker, John was the perfect after-dinner speaker. Lynda, Maz, Lightning and I share a joke that everywhere he goes Lightning knows someone. Well clearly we knew our table guests but what I hadn't realised is that he also knew the speaker! He and Maz had holidayed with 'Aldo' some years back so off he skipped up to the top table for a spot of reminiscing with the great man.

By the time he got back to us the comedian, Sean was just starting his turn. This guy is brilliant. A scouser whose non-stop delivery had us in stitches, he’s one of those brilliant comedians that don’t tell jokes but just remark on what they’ve seen and what’s happenning in the room. By now we were all, to use a medical term, bollocksed. The drink had caught us up and Neil was trying on the jackets of just about everyone else on the table, including Davey’s who is half Neil’s size! Neil looked wonderful of course and no-one except him dared stand up and go for a pee for fear of having it mercilessly ripped out of him by Sean, which is exactly what happenned. At almost six and half feet tall, wearing a jacket six sizes too small for him, his shirt covered in red wine and his tie tied like a bow tie, he wasn't going to be easy to miss. We don’t remember much about getting back to the hotel, but we were grateful that we managed it in one piece and in the correct bedrooms. An excellent night.

The next morning, after the mother of cooked breakfasts and catching up on what the girls had been up to last night – a pretty dodgy meal in the hotel, a couple of drinks and a bit of TV - we headed for Preston to do a bit of shopping. Neil and I ‘shopped’ for about an hour then dived into the Corn Exchange to watch the Arsenal v Man Utd game on a giant screen. After the previous night though we were slightly fragile and consequently were the only blokes in the place nursing cokes during the game. A good game and a predictable draw, although Arsenal left it till the dying moments to bring it back to 2-2.

We met up with the girls who were now toting a reasonable number of carrier bags, grabbed a bag of chips and shot off back to the hotel. Once again John and his wife Beverley kindly collected us (all four of us this time) from the hotel and took us back to Ewood, this time to watch Blackburn play host to Liverpool in the Premiership. Again there were a number of us going to game but we were in separate parts of ground. We four sat with Sue & Norman – parents of Balckburn mid-fielder David Dunn and thoroughly enjoyed what was a pretty thrilling 0-0 draw.

After match we all met up in an excellent Indian restaurant close to our hotel. By now Neil and I had our beer appetites back and we all enjoyed an excellent evening’s food, drink and company.

If Saturday’s breakfast was the mother, Sunday’s was the mother, father and grand-parents. We needed it to be as we were heading straight off for home afterwards. The journey back was a breeze – apart from Lightning’s car breaking down on the M6. Thankfully it turned out to be something very minor and so we made it back home in three hours. Safe, full, tired but very pleased with the whole weekend.

Thanks to everyone that made the weekend as good as it was. To our hosts for their hospitality and especially to Neil & Maz for their excellent company.

21st-24th September. Trouble in the Tyrol

Despite being a smaller band than set out to last year's Herbsfest, those making the pilgrimage to Maria Alm on this trip were definitely no less enthusiastic !!

Over a good lunch with Bryan & Sandra sometime back in April we decided that we'd definitely go back to this Tyrolean beauty spot. So there and then we spun up the Ryanair website and booked our seats. Bryan once again took excellent control of accommodation and transport details, and within days of us deciding to go we had the flights, hotel and hire car all sorted out.

Phil was the only Maria Alm veteran who was definitely up for a return and so he booked the same flights for himself a couple of weeks later. We were five strong, eight down on last year but no less confident of a great time. I say Phil booked the same flights. What he actually managed to do was book himself onto the 6.30 am flight out of Stansted, not the 6.30 pm flight that the rest of us were on. As it turned out it worked well for him as he hired a car, and in the twelve hours between him arriving at Salzburg Airport and us turning up he managed to drive around most of Bavaria and Salzburgerland. There are lot worse ways to spend a day.

Maria Alm is about 45 minutes drive south of Salzburg and our base there was once again Pension Niederreiter in the centre of the village - www.sbg.at/pension-niederreiter/niederreiter_mariaalm_en.html.

A gem of a place run by an incredibly nice young husband and wife team, the Niederreiter is spotlessly clean, in a great location and incredibly cheap. We 'checked in' at 11.15, tossed a coin to determine that Bryan & Sandra got the best room - they're all great, this one's just a bit bigger and has a sofa - ditched our bags and decided that despite the hour we'd take a short stroll to unwind. Phil was understandably knackered and hit the pit hard, saving his strength for the next day's festivities. The four of us walked down the main street getting only as far as a hotel bar thirty yards away, from which we emerged at about 2 am a good deal unsteadier than when we walked in !!! A tip: Sturm (unfermented new wine) makes your legs very wobbly Lynda.

Lynda's first of many


Right: Ditto

"Hello Mum, Hello Dad" Bryan and his Nokia Marrowphone


Left & right: a photo opportunity around every corner in Maria Alm

Saturday arrived in a blaze of sunshine, clear blue sky and with a real sense of anticipation in the village for the coming celebrations. It's the author's experience that Tyroleans need very little excuse to throw a party, especially if the reason for it involves agriculture. This weekend is all about the cows coming down from the higher pastures where they've grazed for the summer months. What a shame then that cows don't drink huge quantites of chilled lager and eat very big portions of meat, sauerkraut and sausages, as they appear to be the only ones not getting stuck in.

Whip crack away and loads of oompah - they do it so well !

After breakfast we sauntered down to the village centre, passing tables and benches laid out for the expected visitors, food and craft stalls, bars and oompah bands. Although events are centred in the town square, the same thing was repeated all over the beautifully decorated and pristine village. Around mid-morning we made a bee-line for an empty table and benches and made them ours for the day. Shortly afterwards we were joined by Bryan's brother Clive, his mum Gladys and her best friend Liz, all of whom had been in the village for a few days already. Clive is a complete Austrophile and with his wife Rose (who sadly couldn't make the trip for family reasons) is lucky enough to have owned an apartment in the village for a few years. Five had now become eight and very quickly became ten when Bryan's other brother Trevor and his wife Lorraine surprised us by turning up for the weekend. They also have an apartment there, making the non-Maria Alm property owners almost in the minority !

"I'm telling you I left my beer right there!"

The day's entertainment unfolded and included music from several bands, dancing, displays of horsemanship and whip cracking, parades of various animals and of course loads and loads of marvellous food washed down with one or two beers and the odd schnapps. All of which was executed with great humour and enthusiasm. The day became progressively warmer, we all got more relaxed and giggly and the beer remained ice cold. By around five, glowing with the day's fun and alcohol we sloped off to our various hotels and apartments. We five dragged out sun loungers and collapsed in the hotel garden for an hour or so's improptu and very light-hearted German lesson.

Dinner is always an excellent experience in Austria, especially if you're not vegetarian, and we were not disappointed that evening. Next to the food our main concern was how we could fix Phil up with the attractive and extremely efficient blonde waitress who was single-handedly running the whole place, including the bar. She'd served us in the same restaurant the previous year and we'd had the same discussions then, Phil opting on that occasion that beer would be far better company. Despite our efforts, tonight ended the same way. Another tip: identifying Austrian girls as 'that blonde' is futile. They all are.

The next day we breakfasted and piled into the car for the short trip to the lakeside town of Zell am See, a few miles west of Maria Alm. Staring down onto the town and lake for no doubt several millenia, Schmittenhohe is a fairly hefty mountain. At Clive's suggestion we took the cable car to its top and marvelled at the views, made all the more beautiful for being bathed in bright sunshine. We were lucky ebough to be there at the same time as some paragliders leaping from the top with their yahooing passengers dangling in front of them. Definitely put us down for that on our next trip.

Just before getting into our paragliding gear

Bryan & Sandra lead off



Click the play button twice, slowly - This really looked and sounded like a whole lot of fun

That afternoon Clive was taking Gladys and Liz to part two of the village celebrations, this time held at Jufen, a guesthouse/bar/restaurant in the hills over Maria Alm. A drive up a very steep winding road and a successful hunt for a parking space later we turned up and joined them, as too did Trevor and Lorraine. The pastoral setting, incredible scenery and weather, local band and makeshift but more than adequate wooden staging made for an even more enjoyable experience than the previous day in the town. We wasted no time in once again finding a free table and tucking into the excellent food and yes, a few beers. We were also surprisingly captivated by a game involving a hammer, a tree stump and a bag of 4" nails - yes, all that with loads of beer !!! A short uphill stroll not only gave us a glimpse of Maria Alm from above, but also into Bryan's latent 'Sound of Music' fantasy when he treated us to a Maria-moment, running round the hillside, singing something about lonely goat-herds. This was a highlight in itself. Little did we know though of the two highlights still to come...........

Bryan Von Trapp

We're the kings of the castle......

Bryan sensibly opting for beer over that nail game

Highlight number one - Andy Arnold. Never heard of him? Neither had we but we won't ever forget him. A local boy, Andy is a Europopper at his Europoppiest. We felt sorry for the poor lad belting out his sub-Bee Gee disco tunes to a polite but pretty disinterested audience. Fair play though, the boy's a trouper and sang enthusiastically over the pre-recorded backing tracks regardless, wandering amongst and shmoozing the audience courtesy of a radio microphone, possibly thinking about changing his agent. Check him out at http://www.andy-arnold.com/ and see us on his gallery page !!

Andy in the striped shirt and to his left his probably now ex-manager

Highlight number two - This also involved Andy. A reliable source revealed that by around song 5 or 6 a drunk audience member - let's call him Helmut - was clearly no longer appreciating Andy's set. Believing himself to be invisible, Helmut wandered over towards the stage to put an end to the performance. Andy, possible fearing a thump, edged away but Helmut had spotted a more technical means to undermine Andy. He needed only to pull a plug out of the extension socket at his feet to stop Andy mid-song. Helmut pulled but Andy sang on. About 30 feet to the left however was a small comotion amongst some of the local kids, whose bouncy castle had inexplicably and unexpectedly deflated. Realising he'd actually un-plugged not Andy's sound system but the castle's air compressor, Helmut quickly ran off. The kids you'll be relieved were rescued by a quick-thinking barman who put the plug back into it's rightful socket enabling the bouncing to continue.

That night, by luck rather than arrangement we all met up in Dorfcafe in the village for very good (and garlicky) pizzas and wine, served by another blonde and efficient waitress, running the place on her own. We had an early start for home the next morning and coupled with being flaked from the day's exertions, we decided an early night would be a good idea. After a quick tour of Trevor & Lorraine's apartment we went back to the Niederreiter and fell into bed.

Frolics on Trevor & Lorraine's balcony

We should have been up at 5.30, but for Lynda and me it was 6. We didn't fancy a lie-in, I just made a bollocks of setting the alarm on my mobile phone! Our hosts had very kindly laid breakfast on for us specially despite their usual start time of 8. Tip 3: Remember Austria is an hour ahead if setting an alarm on a device that's still on UK time.

We said a rueful goodbye to Maria Alm, drove back to Salzburg, dropped off the hire car and took-off only ten minutes later than scheduled. We touched down on a wet but sunny Essex runway, none of us really having wanted to leave Austria behind. Bryan very kindly supplied the transport to and from Stansted and all points North, for which we're very grateful.

Another excellent trip to a wonderful place with great company. Thanks to all for making it special - a holiday's only as good as the people you're with, and this one was super.