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| #2  04-Dec-2006, 00:53 | ||||
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| Today was absolutley hilarious, We weren't allowed to stroke the dolphins on the nose, but I accidentally ****ted one on it anyway. It didn't let me get away with it though, and it smacked me in the ******** with it's tail as it swam past. V funny. Really cool day, got asked by so many "jewellery" sellers if we wanted weed, or cocaine. In the end we just told them that we had loads, said we were having a party, then invited them, It was hysterical to see their faces. This was after we'd had the biggest glass of Margherita you have ever seen in your life. We were hammered.  Can't wait for tomorrow. Cheers, Tim  |
| #3 04-Dec-2006, 21:32 | ||||
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| OK, So we found an internet cafe in Mazatlan. Not as huge Margheritas as in Cabo San Lucas, but ok nonetheless. Went for a little taxicab ride with a guy named Gustavo, pretty cool guy, we went up to the lighthouse (too hot for climbing!) and then watched some ejit jump off a cliff into a few feet of water. Me and Amy are confident we could have done the same thing though, it wasnt that impressive. The best bit was buying a batman kite sort of thing. (Don´t ask, I´ll explain later, we´re both slightly toasted and looking for more booze as I speak..how´s my spelling?) Have taken huge amounts of pix, there are some really cool buildings here, but its a strange mix of delapidated and rebuilt. We simply cannot work out why some of the buildings are in ruins and some are brand new right next door. The whole place must be going through a phase of money influx from tourism, but I thought Mazatlan had been a tourist spot for years. Weird. Have some great stories to tell of capers on and off ship, but they´ll be relegated to my usually huge reports with pics that simply cannot fit on here, even at one dollar for an hour. Tequila is a more important thing to find right now. Adios, Otei |
| #4 04-Dec-2006, 21:42 | ||||
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| Quote:
I thought it was an inexpensive clothing boutique!! You poor northerners are easily pleased. Tourist spot my arse!  Quote:
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| #5 11-Dec-2006, 19:54 | ||||
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| Right then, back from Mexico. Here are the reports: Day 1. San Diego and cruise launch: So then, the day of our cruise to Mexico. We had to drive a couple of hours to San Diego (which in German, means “A whale’s vagina”). The drive was pretty cool, It’s amazing how quickly time goes when you’re not in your own country with the miserable weather bringing you down. The weather was much more like Southern Cali weather, in the mid 70’s and was lovely. Sadly, the highlight of the freeway journey for me was seeing a big yellow Hummer..no really, It was. I’ve always wanted to see one in real life. They’re not as gigantic as they look in films, but I think it’s safe to say that you wouldn’t want to play a head on game of chicken with one, not unless you were Ben Grimm from the Fantastic four anyway.  When we got to San Diego, we found a park and ride that we’d booked for the week. Four quid a day isn’t bad I guess. We had our luggage loaded onto the van by a pony tailed dude that looked like he had just stepped out of the Woodstock festival. His knowledge of the local breakfasts seemed to be almost encyclopedic. Now the reason he had been asked about this, was that there was a highly intelligent guy sat next to him along with several others that were going on the cruise. He was to provide us with one of several highly amusing “American” moments that were to come. The brainiac in the front passenger seat asked which park and ride lot we had come from. The ponytailed geezer told him that it was number 4. Holding his hand up, the Mensa candidate blurted “So that’s one hand, four fingers, without the thumb!”. Genius. Shortly after, the nobel prize laureate in the back seat inquired for directions on how to get to the car park that he had already successfully navigated his way to, and that we had just left. We got dropped off at the check in and after being ****ed about by a couple of clueless buggers that didn’t actually know where we were supposed to be going, we got our baggage onto a cart and into the ship. When we went to check in, we were stood in a queue of people. I looked behind me, and there was a young boy in a sailors hat. “Alright, Sailor!” I chirped at him. “How did you know his name” said his confused Mother. His father then confirmed that it was in fact his name. Having gotten over the fact that someone would actually name their son that and not expect them to be beaten daily at school, I asked them if they wanted me to do any more psychic stuff for 5 bucks a pop.  As we were waiting in line to check in, I decided to nip off to use the toilet. As I was in there, A guy was holding his dick in one hand, and his mobile in the other. Talking about doing deals on the stock market. I guess business doesn’t even wait for the call of nature. He should be careful though, his train of thought might wander one day and he might end up buying into a different kind of flotation. We smuggled our sandwiches and Budweiser on board and sat in our State room, waiting for the boat to sail. There was no way we were going to be allowed to get away with that though, and an announcement came over the tannoy that in 15 minutes time, there would be a practice drill for emergency evacuation. We were instructed that we would need to don our life jackets, which I found difficult to the point where I would probably have drowned if it had been a real emergency. We all waddled down the aisles like embarrassed florescent orange penguins and mustered at our, erm...muster point. We were then lined up outside under the lifeboats and suffered the ignominy of the occupants of the cruise ship opposite laughing and taking photos of us all lined up like berks. marvelous.  We headed out of port and the band started playing on the top deck. It was pretty special, and San Diego looked spectacular at night as we drifted slowly away from it. We got a beer and a bite to eat, then started to explore the ship and its facilities. You can imagine how happy I was when I came across an old skool Galaga and Pac Man machine in the arcade, I envisage spending many happy, ****ed up hours there growling at annoying American children. Superb! The rest of the ship is spectacular, with a Casino, Theatre, Cinema, Library, online access, a Bank, Gymnasium, Spa, massage centre, hairdressers and more bars and restaurants than you can shake a stick at. Quite mind boggling, and I simply cannot imagine the level of logistics involved in keeping this thing stocked up and maintained.  We got an idea of just what is involved in running a ship like this when we went to dinner that evening. Each couple that walked through the door was assigned a steward to escort them to their table, and there were waiters of all different types running around in a barely synchronized ballet, with trays just missing heads left right and centre. Unfortunately, we managed to be seated on a table next to Mr and Mrs. Snoozington, from Dullsville, America. The conversation with our wine waiter was far more stimulating, and Amy and I indulged in a little game that we created, whereby we have to guess the sexual preferences of a certain individual. We labeled this pastime “RUG” Antonio, our wine waiter was, let’s say...very enthusiastic, with a superbly maintained mustache. For me, the mustache was reason enough to give him a resounding yes vote in the RUG game, Amy wasn’t so sure. She also wasn’t certain what his accent was, so I told her that he was from Portugal. “Are you sure ?”, said Amy with a surprised look on her grill. “Why don’t you ask him?” I said, and bet her the cost of the expensive bottle of wine that I was right. It was only as the words slipped from her mouth that she instantly noticed his name badge, with “Portugal” in large black letters underneath it. HA!, Hilarious!...chalk one up to the Otei.  We went back to the cabin, but before we did, Amy wanted to go and have a look outside. We peered over the side and I instantly felt really weird, just looking at the dark, brooding expanse of open ocean. Hmmm, chalk one up to the Sea. I went to sleep. |
| #6 11-Dec-2006, 20:05 | ||||
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| Day 2: At Sea. I can’t believe how much I slept, the weird couple at the dinner table must have slipped something in my wine, or maybe there was something in the revolting orange and apple soup that they mistakenly served me. Whatever the case, I woke up at 10:30, which was effectively 9:30 as we had moved our clocks forward an hour to take the time zone into account. Food is served all day long here, and considering that, I’m surprised that there aren’t more of the overly obese Yanks that you tend to see so much of. Still, there’s plenty of time for that to happen. Maybe this is where fat Americans are created, on a floating Calorie farm in the Pacific Ocean. It’s easy to get disoriented when you’re at sea and on such a huge ship, even for an experienced Mariner like myself (I once owned an inflatable Dinghy on holiday in Malta, when I was aged 4). I woke up, looked out of the cabin window and said to Amy, Wow, with the effect of the water turbulence, it feels like we’re going sideways. “No sweetie”, she replied, “we’re at the Butt of the boat”, and so we were...Doh!  We stepped out for breakfast as I was still waking up and joined the line of people spoiled for choice as to their brekky. I decided to have some scrambled eggs and bacon, and some fresh fruit. Amy thought the scrambled eggs were cheese potatoes, but then she’s not very bright.  We went downstairs and I logged on to the internet, only to find Dom being his usual facetious little self on the DD forum, but put it down to immense jealousy and carried on regardless. we checked out the cigarettes, which worked out at an unbelievable eight quid for 200. I haven’t made my mind up yet whether to bring any back, as I’ll get taxed on them if I get searched and it might not be worthwhile. Whatever, I don’t smoke anyway.  After a difficult bit of self motivation, we went to the gym. It seemed just like normal, as there was the same equipment that i use at home. The weirder thing, was that when i’m using the cross trainers in my local gym, the swimming pool is directly below and in front of me through the glass windows. The swimming pool was somewhat larger this time, and contained whales and dolphins. It didn’t seem quite right that I was moving in a forwards motion, but that the vessel was plowing along to the left. Very Odd.  We went to dinner again (this time it was formal night and time to dress like gangsters!), and sure enough, we were seated next to the dull couple again. We had already devised a cunning plan to amuse ourselves by pretending to be Alpaca farmers, and listing a host of disgusting facts about these camel/llama looking critters, including the fact that their hooves were used in the very desert that one or both of them might be eating. Tragically, they both came out of their shells and proved to be decent enough, if not scintillating characters. Therefore, the Alpaca story was put on hold.  We got a little toasted and had our pictures taken by a South African photographer who was a pretty cool guy, and seemed to know what he was doing..to the point of arranging us so that you couldn’t see where Amy had spilled salmon down her dress, the klutz. We retired to the cabin to catch some zeds, but were awoken at around 1 am by what surely must have been the back of the boat disintegrating. We absolutely shat ourselves, but I have to say that I was out of bed so fast and ready to get into a life jacket, that my previously awful practice attempt at saving my own skin seemed like a distant memory. After half an hour or so, our heart rates slowed below 150 and we managed to get to sleep, after all, there were dolphins awaiting our arrival in Cabo San Lucas in a few hours time. |
| #7 11-Dec-2006, 20:09 | |||
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| Hummers?? Pah, you didnt need to fly all that way Timmy, you could have just popped up to 'lil ole Woking and seen the 2 in Dukes Court front car park.  The company (THQ) uses them for advertising the latest 'puter games  and the staff take it in turns to use them as 'pool' cars |
| #8 11-Dec-2006, 20:25 | ||||
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| Day 3: Cabo San Lucas: We waited to get a sticker, then we were called to line up and wait for our tenders. Tenders are also known in other situations, as “lifeboats”. That’s right, we were going to have to get to the land, via another little boat. I hadn’t been too keen on this idea, as I’m not too keen on boats in general (I know, i know, I’m on a bloody cruise!). However, once we’d waited in line for what seemed like an hour, we finally got onto our little vessel. It was pretty cool seeing the giant cruise liner disappear behind us, and I really did get a feeling of what Captain Bligh felt like as Fletcher Christian and the other Mutineers s******ed and waved at them as they were cast adrift. Fortunately though, we had an advantage over Captain bligh and his crew, an engine..and a bloke to steer the boat...and a wallet full of dollars. Yeehaaa!  We came in to moor at cabo San Lucas, and there were Pelicans everywhere, and it was an awesome sight to see them in the wild, not in some zoo or bird sanctuary. After being greeted by a couple of fake pirates, we trotted off in the direction of the dolphin centre, which had numerous real pirates trying to sell jewelry and other such trinkets. this would turn out to be a major source of mirth later in the day. We were guided to the dolphin centre and after receiving wristbands that were similar to a track day, we were then required to sign a waiver..er..just like a track day. I was wondering if we were going to be racing these dolphins or something. turns out that it wasn’t too far from the truth.  We had ben told by the instructors not to touch their heads and faces (although Amy managed to touch some faeces as ours swam by..yuk!), but as the dolphin was circling us, I accidentally smacked it in the face whilst trying to maneuver myself in the pool. I had a feeling it wouldn’t let me get away with it, and I was right. A little later it swam past me and flicked me in the knackers with its tail. B a s t a r d. In all seriousness though, the whole thing was incredible, and every bit as good as I had imagined it would be. The highlight was the belly ride, where the dolphin laid on its back, you grabbed its pectoral fins and it motored off around the pool as you tried to wipe the inane grin from your face. Typically, being a racer, I asked if it could go any faster, but it seems you have to tuna dolphin to get any more power out of it *Badoom, Tssshk!” We bought some pics and a DVD, and in all fairness, the pics and especially the DVD were highly impressive given the 10 minutes they had to edit it and create it. Very good indeed my Mexican Spielberg wannabes. We didn’t have to be back at the boat for a while, so we wandered round the front to grab a bite to eat. Every few yards, we would be accosted by jewelry sellers, but we must have looked slightly “street” as most of them would also mutter “want some weed?” or “wanna get high?”...”Cocaine?” Personally, I put it down to Amy’s tattoos and several Mexican guys shouted “Hey, do you wanna know where the tattoo shop is?”  On the way back to the boat later on, we had gotten tired of being asked if we wanted any gear, so when one young lad asked us again, I told him we had loads of drugs, that we were gonna have a crazy party and that he was invited. His face was a picture, it went from streetwise young geezer, to shocked and surprised teenager faster than you could say “ 2 loopy Gringos”. Quality. In-between amusing ourselves with the local drug dealers, we went and had a bit to eat at a place called Margaritavilla. We had some quesadillas and some fajitas, but the decisive factor was the huge, and I do mean quite titanic Margaritas that we were served. They were like buckets, I s h i t you not. We were pretty toasted after these, so we staggered around the little town for a while taking pics.  The trip back to the boat was as cool as the trip away from it, and I took a bit of video, whilst simultaneously taking the **** out of a group of Canadians in a South Park style. We had booked a massage each before we left, so we got our asses in gear and went to check that out. We had a very nice, tiny little South African chick called Riki doing our treatments, and although she was small, she could suck like an experienced hooke...I mean, her massage pressure was impressive to say the least. The day was flying by, and it was time to head to dinner once again, with our mildly less dull friends. The boat was pitching about quite a bit and the lightweight majority had stayed away from any intake of food aboard this floating roller coaster. This included Gerry, the wife of our dining table partner, David. He seemed less uptight when she wasn’t around, I can’t imagine why that might be, as her whiny, nasally tones had endeared her to us no end. He asked how our day with the dolphins had gone, and we both broke straight faced into a yarn about how a woman in our group had gotten in the way of one of the dolphins and been knocked unconscious by its tail as it splashed out of the water. I added that we thought her teeth had been knocked into the water, but that it was just pieces of polystyrene from her flotation vest. I also tacked on the fact that the Mexican trainer had been in floods of tears. Amy assisted ably, and we managed it without cracking up. Ironically, David then told us how their son had fallen over and knocked his teeth backwards, requiring a trip to the local dentist in the process. Irony?, or was David smarter than he looked and giving us a bulls h i t rebuttal? We’ll never know I guess,. The previous day, we had ordered a bottle of wine to go with our meal, which was served to us by Antonio our wine waiter, who was a real character and a sterling bloke. Amy had done some wine tasting previously, and did a thoroughly convincing impersonation of someone that knows what the hell they’re talking about when it comes to drinking wine. She slooshed it around in the glass, then stuck her beak in it and had a good whiff before finally tasting it and proclaiming it fit for consumption. I took the **** a bit and she told me that if she hadn’t liked it, she could have sent it back. The next night however, was a different story. Once again, our resident wine swiller sloshed the claret around, gave it a quick snort, but didn’t look too impressed. Antonio, said that we would try to find something with a bit more body about it for the next night, and promptly hightailed it. I laughed my ass off and said “Well so much for sending it back then!” After a few more drinks we were even less impressed than when we first started, and this really shouldn’t have been the case, as everyone knows that it doesn’t matter what you drink when you’re already ****ed. I collared Antonio and asked him what the point of swilling the booze around and sniffing it like a bunch of daisies, then having a thimble full if you couldn’t send it back if you didn’t like it? He looked a little stumped for a second, then, like the true professional he is, he explained that it wasn’t really anything to do with the taste of the wine, more to ensure that the wine was in good condition. I told him that I was no wine expert, but that I really didn’t think that this was a $48 bottle of wine, in anybody’s language. There was a good glassful left that we’d attempted to palm off on David, but he wasn’t having any of it either, so i asked Antonio if he was able to taste it for us. I wasn’t sure if he’d be allowed to drink on duty, but to my immense surprise and incredible amusement, he stood upright and boldly stated “Of course Sir, that is why I carry this!” and proceeded to pull out the biggest Hip hop looking chain, which had what can only be described as a silver plated, shallow ladle without the handle, attached to the chunky ghetto necktie. He put a Portuguese sized portion in his pimpin’ metal booze pouch, and gave it a swill. His face started to look like a bulldog that had licked some **** of a stinging nettle, and eventually declared that it really shouldn’t taste like that. Amy looked very pleased with herself. good skills, wino.  Antonio, who we now very aptly named Flava Flave, promised to give us a free bottle of wine for the next evening, which was certainly mission accomplished, and without having disrespected the guy in any way shape or form. We staggered around the sloshing ship before retiring to bed, safe in the knowledge that we couldn’t have had much more fun that day if we’d had the entire Monty Python team as our tour guides. |
domski
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