Tag: Holiday

7 Reasons My Italian Self-Teaching May Get Me Into Trouble

Hello. I’m on a plane. At least I am if you are reading this at 9am on Monday morning. If you are reading it at 9pm on Monday evening then I bloody well hope I’m not on a plane and if you are reading it in June 2014, well, I couldn’t really care less. I’m assuming, as I write, that it is 9am on Monday morning and I am currently on a plane that is destined for Italy. Yes, I’m going on holiday. I thought you’d be pleased. Over the last week, I have done a little language based learning. And, in what is quite a coincidence, I have been learning Italian. Unfortunately, I am not the best when it comes to languages. Partly because I always sound a bit Indian when speaking with another tongue and partly because I just can’t be bothered with it. Which, I admit, is an abysmal attitude to have, but I will gladly take any applause you are prepared to give me for honesty. As a result of these two factors, the Italians might be in for something of a shock. Here’s why:

1. Accents. My Italian accent isn’t very good. Unless you like Italian accents that sound Indian. I imagine the Italians don’t.

2. What A Mistaka To Maka. I can’t help it. Without a teacher I revert to learning my Italian from Allo! Allo! clips on YouTube. I keep adding the letter ‘a’ onto anything I say. Oh, and I’m speaking English.

3. Roma! Lazio! The only words I can pronounce with any confidence are the names of football clubs or, indeed, names of footballers. I may get away with randomly shouting ‘Cannavaro!’ and ‘Del Piero!’ but I imagine I would not with ‘Totti!’. And, talking about football, Italy are playing Serbia tomorrow night. Along with many people in the 1990s, I watched Football Italia on Channel 4. And, along with many people, I always assumed the phrase uttered at the end of the opening credits – ‘Golaccio!’ – meant…

4. ‘Goal Lazio!!’. That’s what it sounded like after all. You can see it here if you need reminding/have no idea what I’m going on about. Now ‘Golaccio’ may seem like a sensible thing to say if Lazio’s Sergio Floccari finds the back of the net for his national side. But it wouldn’t be. For the simple reason that the word is actually ‘Golazo’. And it’s Spanish. And despite finding this out, I know it’s not going to make any bloody difference. I am still going to shout ‘Golazo!’ if Italy score. Or Spain. Or Serbia. Or England. Because that’s me. And no one would have me any other way.

5. French. The only language I have ever learnt – apart from English and Latin obviously – is French. And, despite years of trying to forget such nonsense, I still seem to remember a fair bit of it. And the reason I know this is because unwelcome words keeps slipping into my otherwise expertly recited Italian phrases, ‘Buon giorno. Parla inglese, s’il vous plaît?’. If someone started asking me a question in English and then slipped in something about frogs-legs, I’d be furious. I would expect the Italians to be similar.

6. Hands. Whether it’s a myth or not, Italian’s are famous for their hand gestures. So I’ve been practising mine too. So far, I have the ‘bang on desk’, the ‘I’ve got the whole world in my hands’ and the ‘bunny shadow’ gestures in my repetoire. And they make very little sense with my Italian/French/Indian speil.

7. Pizza. I spent much of my time in the week before Rome, practising the pronunciation of pizza names using a Pizza Express menu. As a result I am unlikely to be able to eat anything other than pizza for the whole week. While this is not a problem in itself, the fact that I can only pronounce Margherita with any confidence, could be.

October 11, 2010
7 Reasons You Should Choose Your Holiday Read Carefully

There’s so much to think about when choosing your holiday read and so much can go wrong. Here are seven reasons that you should do it carefully.

1. The Cover. People say you should never judge a book by its cover. But they do. Which is why everyone who sees your choice of book will automatically form an opinion of you. And it will probably be the wrong opinion. Take Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange for example. The Penguin Modern Classic version depicts a glass of milk. If I see someone reading a book that has a cover featuring milk I immediately think, ‘Cows. The reader likes cows’. They probably don’t. In fact, had I asked them, they would have probably shrugged with indifference. But that’s the peril of the book cover. To me, that person will always be a cow lover.

2. Trilogies. These are a big no-no. No one reads more than one book on holiday, so never start on a series that is going to take you a further two holidays to finish. By the time the second holiday comes around you’ll have forgotten what happened in the first book. This means you’ll have to read it again, only for the process to repeat itself on the next holiday. Basically, you’ll spend the rest of your life holidaying with the same book. And you’ll never find out who kills who or what the wizard said to the pixie or why the girl next door is so addicted to sex with vampires.

3. Love. Lots of people meet the love of their lives (or their night) on holiday. The last thing you need – having plucked up the courage and charmed a beautiful lady at the bar – is for her to come back to your suite and see your copy of How To Talk Women Into Bed resting on your pillow. That kind of behaviour is strictly frowned upon by the fairer sex. Apparently.

4. Language. When you take a book abroad, it’s disrespectful to your hosts to read an English translation of a book originally written in their language. In Barcelona, several people were upset to see me reading a translation of Lorca’s Yerma, but that was nothing compared to the reaction of Berliners to my English version of Mein Kampf. Never read a translated work. They were livid.

5. Practicality. The Da Vinci Code is the ideal book to take on holiday. If the weather takes a turn for the worse you can use it as kindling; if you spill your drink on the table, it’s quite absorbent; if you need to hold a door in your villa open, you can fashion a papier-mache doorstop from it; if you find that people are trying to engage you in conversation, you can pretend to read it (they’ll soon leave you alone). There’s almost nothing that this versatile book can’t be used for. Except as reading material, obviously. That would be stupid.

6. The Lord Of The Flies. If you have teenage children, do not take this book on your island-break with you. Okay, so it’s pretty unlikely that they’ll put down their iPods and PSPs for long enough to read it, but if they do, they may descend into savagery before you know it. And savages do not make relaxing holiday companions. As anyone that has vacationed in Ayia Napa will testify.

7. Airports. A copy of Frank Barnaby’s How to Build A Nuclear Bomb and Other Weapons of Mass Destruction would be a particularly poor choice of holiday read. It’s sobering, serious and thought-provoking; none of the things that are conducive to the holiday mood as you attempt to relax and get away from it all in your detention cell at Heathrow Airport.

September 8, 2010
7 Reasons Whitstable Is A Bit Strange

I don’t know. Maybe I caught the place on a bad day, but my goodness, there are some strange people there. I mean really, really strange.

1. The Conversations. “Have you heard from your friends in Iceland?” “Oh, well not since the last time.”

2. The Stall Owners. “Would you like a picnic?” As chat-up lines go, this is quite forward. No introductions. Just straight in there, “Would you like a picnic?” I replied no, at which point the stall owner said, “Peppermint! Why did I say picnic?” She then stared at me. For far too long.

3. The Fish & Chip Shop Queue. Apparently, Whitstable adheres to the philosophy that states, ‘if you see a queue, get in it’. That would explain why I spent ten minutes standing behind two people who had absolutely no intention of buying fish. Or chips. Or even one of those small wooden forks. Idiots.

4. The Weird Family. A mother who screams when attacked by fake wasps and chucks drink down her top. A son who runs slower than he walks. Another son who gets in a strop and starts throwing stones towards his family. A father who sits down and bends the wooden bench. A youngest son who keeps going on about seeing a King Charles Spaniel. And when I say he keeps going on about it, I mean on and on and on and on. And on. Just shut up already! It’s a dog. Not a bloody Tyrannosaurus Rex.

5. The Dogs. There are millions of them. And not a single one gave me a whiff out of courtesy. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I wanted a dog to give me a whiff, it’s just that they usually do. As a rule, dogs do not like me. And because of this rule they usually attack me. What is wrong with Whitstable’s dogs?

6. The Mens. I don’t want to spoil anyone’s breakfast here, but Whitstable, it would appear, has the worst designed urinal in the world. And yes, urinal. Singular. Just one. Hidden round the corner from the entrance. That of course means any unsuspecting visitor would automatically assume there were a whole raft of urinals inside. And so in they wander. Only to be confronted by an old fella being held by an old fella.

7. The Holiday-Makers. You know when Daniel Craig walked out of the water in Casino Royale and 65% of the female population went a bit weak at the knees? Well, every single holiday-maker in Whitstable seems to think they are Daniel Craig. And as a result I felt weak in the stomach.

August 9, 2010
7 Reasons I Should Be Celebrated The World Over

Today I turn 27. I is Jon. Happy Birthday to me. Thanks. This very special day gives me a wonderful opportunity to indulge in a little piece of narcissism. Well, I say narcissism. It’s more a chance to try and make the world a better place.

Image Courtesy of Ceci Masters

1. Holiday. June 10th would automatically be made a public holiday. And just before you start thinking this could never happen, well it already has. In Portugal.

2. Statues. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not so vain that I think there should be statues of me in every town, village and hamlet. But one in every 50sq miles sounds about right. The simple fact of the matter is that there are 6.2 billion people on this planet and I can’t get round to everyone. A statue does exactly what I do. Apart from get injured when someone takes exception to seeing me everyday and knocks my head off.

3. Italians. As this short film demonstrates, they need to sort their attitude out. I am hoping that if the rest of the world celebrate me then the Italians might join in. Voluntarily or otherwise.

4. Common Denominator. There is a lot of bad blood between a lot of people in this world. What the world needs now is love sweet love, but if we can’t get that we need something else. Something that ignores borders. Something that ignores beliefs. Something that ignores opinions. Something that ignores The French. Something that everyone can agree is beauty. Maybe then, with common ground, we can build a better world for our children. That something, is me.

5. I Do The Things That You Don’t Have To. For the most part of my life, I have been getting on and doing the jobs that otherwise you’d have to do. Trying to become an international athlete for instance. Or deciding that I could take on – and beat – Australians at every single sported ever invented. Or spending three years of my life searching for my friend’s look-alike – and then writing a book about it. Or planning to catch one hundred London buses in one night. If it wasn’t for me, you’d have had to do all that. You’d be the one who was a bit…erm…strange.

6. You Again. Have you sent me a Birthday card for today? The chances are you probably haven’t. But that’s not necessarily your fault. It may simply be a case that you don’t know me. If you don’t know me you can’t be expected to know when to start looking at Birthday cards. If I was celebrated all over the world though, you would know. Clinton Cards would put adverts up and stuff.*

7. 7 Reasons. If I was celebrated the whole world over, I wouldn’t have to spend ages, in the early hours my birthday, trying to think of a poxy seventh reason as to why you should celebrate me.

*If you do know me and you haven’t sent me a card, I would like to know why. Thanks.

June 10, 2010
7 Reasons Not to Hate The British

We didn’t make this – the internet sent it to us, and jolly good it is too. If we were in the habit of coming up with an eighth reason we could add that we’re not French. But we don’t come up with an eighth reason. That’s not our job. We only do seven. Or, sometimes, five with with a lot of extra-shiny-words to distract you. Not eight though. That would be unthinkable.

March 20, 2010
7 Reasons To Holiday At The Airport

1. Anticipation. Getting on a plane is quite exciting. (Unless you’re going on a business trip to the middle of Russia. But let’s assume you are not). Let’s assume you are supposedly going somewhere nice. Kingston, Jamaica for example. That really is quite exciting. The thought of spending time on a beach and hanging around with people who say, ‘No problum marn’ a lot, is very exciting. Holiday-ing at an airport means you can experience this anticipation every minute of everyday.

2. Duty-Free. The airport is full of it. You can stock up on so many gifts. And let’s face it, no one can have too many AAA sized batteries or an adaptor for the electrical system in Outer Mongolia.

3. Joy. There probably aren’t many more wonderful places than the arrivals gate at an airport. Unless it’s in an airport in the middle of Russia and you are on a business trip. But you’re not are you? You are on holiday in Heathrow Terminal 5. Here you witness thousands upon thousands of people being reunited with family and friends. It’s a beautiful sight. One that makes you feel up warm and fuzzy inside. Incidentally, it is also a hotspot for the exchange of boomerangs, sombreros and ushankas.

4. Cheap Thrills. Apparently it’s actually illegal to holiday in an airport. Which makes it all the more fun to try and do it. The thrill of hiding in a cupboard in Sunglasses Hut hoping that no one will find you has no equal. I imagine it’s like having sex in a lift. But I wouldn’t know. I have always worried about what the other people in the lift would think. Especially the girl’s boyfriend.

5. Get A Job. Obviously you’d struggle to get a job in McDonald’s as you left your P45 at home, but, as Tom Hanks showed in The Terminal, there is always a bit of building work that needs doing. It’s cash-in-hand and you get to meet Catherine Zeta-Jones. Bonus.

6. Get On TV. People are always filming at airports. If they aren’t filming Paris Hilton then they will be filming a real man’s man in the form of Jeremy Spake. All you need to do is wander onto the wrong plane and suddenly he’s all over you. He could make you a star. Or make you go home. He’s like marmite.

7. Comedy. The queue for check-in is a remarkable place. On average people have to queue up for ten minutes. And in those ten minutes they check they have their passport about 40 times. Then they check their watch 50 times before looking anxiously at the departures board. Then they make sure the padlock on their suitcase is locked about 72 times. Then they get to the check-in desk and realise their passport expired three weeks ago. Oh, the look on their sorry little faces is a picture. Enjoy it.

December 10, 2009
7 Reasons The British Know Thanksgiving Must Be Important To Americans

1. Where the hell is Wichita? Whole Hollywood movies are based around the theme of trying to get home for Thanksgiving and feature scenes in which the lead shares a bed with John Candy. Most other films with the theme of trying to get home, feature daring escapes from Colditz and shenanigans with a French Resistance fighter called Michelle in a bunk-bed somewhere outside Paris. So yes, if they make films about Thanksgiving, we know it’s important.

2. Happy Thanksgiving y’all!!! Such words are dominating Twitter at the present time. We haven’t seen the like of it since Balloon Boy didn’t fly. Even that naughty Britney girl is having a day off from following people. Oh hang, no she’s not.

3. He’s over the 40…the 30…the 20…no one’s going to catch him! Touchdown! That’s right, the football is on. And it’s a Thursday. Everyone knows the football (the kind you use your hands to play) is a Sunday and Monday night sport, so playing it on a Thursday must mean it’s a special day. We liken it to the Boxing Day Test Match – a much more delightful event that doesn’t include spiking.

4. Phone in now. If you’ve been listening to Simon Mayo on BBC Radio 2 this week, you’ll know he has been celebrating Thanksgiving by getting people to call in and tell him what they are thankful for. I have no idea why he’s doing this. Simon Mayo is not American. Neither are his listeners. But anyway, if Britain’s most popular radio station is celebrating it, it must be big. Though incredibly frustrating for someone like me who very much doubts that American DJs ask people to call in on St. George’s Day and tell the nation about the last time they fought off a dragon.

5. The one with the Thanksgiving. Yes, in at number five is the ever popular sitcom Friends. Every sixth episode of Friends features Thanksgiving. E4 are almost certainly showing one of them right now.

6. Another slice? We all know that Americans eat everything, but Pumpkin Pie? Seriously? That is some commitment. Especially when you consider that just four weeks earlier, the pumpkins had been used for Halloween. It’s full of molten wax and wicks and all sorts.

7. Oranges. It’s bad enough that Americans have swapped perfectly acceptable English words for their own made up nonsense. Pavement for sidewalk. Trousers for pants. Boot for trunk. But at least they kind of make sense. On Thanksgiving though, logic apparently goes out of the window and any old word is perfectly fine. ‘Orange’ instead of ‘aren’t’ for example. What is that about? And why is it funny to some checkout girl called Rose? Only in America. Over to you Mr. Hanks.

November 26, 2009