Honeymoon in Bali – Pt 1


So, my honeymoond estination was the island paradise of Bali! Carla didn’t have a clue where we were going until my speech at the wedding. I had it planned to unveil in huge grandeur. It was going so well, I handed over the piece of paper saying “Bali”…… She said in an excited voice “Bail……. Where’s Bali?” My heart sank.

Never mind. Once I showed her pictures on my Iphone at the airport and we arrived, she loved it.

Flight was good. Change at Kuala Lumpur. We arrived about midday local time and were collected by the travel agent driver. I’d booked us into this lush hotel, top suite etc. What I hadn’t banked on was that it was 5* and they would do everything for us! They took the suitcases, were making drinks, cold towels to freshen up, everything but wiping my arse! I’m not a person who lets people do this and I felt incredibly uncomfortable because I didn’t want them thinking I was a fat, slobby, stuck up prick.

Anyhoo, the hotel staff were lovely and so friendly, as were pretty much the entire population of the island! As it was our honeymoon, we went into our fantastic room to find petals on the bed in the shape of a heart and petals in our bath. The wife certainly appreciated that touch!

Our first day was spent trying to get over the jetlag and relaxing poolside. On our second day, we ventured a little further out. Now the hotel where we were staying was within a huge complex of other hotels. But about a 5 minute walk was the local village, with restaurants and shops (much cheaper than in the complex) So we went for a stroll.  This was what I liked to do. Leave the tourist part behind and go and try to experience local Bali.

Anyway, we basically got lost. We were walking for miles, past all the houses and what appeared to be local shops (some no more than garages). more than a few times we’d pass a group of men sat around on a wall or in a door way, few teeth missing, tattoo’s, very rough looking….. The wife got very scared. She needn’t have. Every time we walked past, these same scary men turned and gave a huge smile and all said hello in the friendliest many. It turned what could have been a long, worrying walk into a great afternoon. The chickens on the path were probably the most worrying thing (apart from the drivers and the motor bikes going the wrong way and often than not on the paths).

Still, that was our first day in Nusa Dua, Bali. So as not to drag it out, I’ll post a few other stories and bits in different posts, otherwise this will be fucking massive!

The Wedding!


The day finally came. The big day! I had been panicing all week as the weather report was for rain! Luckily, the sun shone through and all was nice and warm that day.

I finished work on the Friday about 7. My mum and a few of my family were staying at the hotel I work in, so I met them in the bar. We had a drink (which was well needed after the shity day I’d had) then went over to the venue for the reception to decorate. This got a little awkward as my dad and his side of the family were also there and my mum and dad have never got on since seperating years ago. Luckily, they were polite and tolerant, so things went smoothly.

My best man was my best friend Wigg (Heir Vigg). We finally got out of the reception about 9 and moved to the hotel we were staying in, coincidentally located right in the middle of the bars and clubs in town! Needless to say we stumbled in about 2am, so still nice and early, with kebab in hand.

I woke up the next morning feeling rough as shit. A bloody mary and a few pints later, I felt better, although writing a speech on a hang over wasn’t such a good idea.

We got dressed and walked over to the church. It was lovely. So many people there. Faces I hadn’t seen in ages, people coming from all over the country and some even from Canada, my brother in law passing round the hip flask with some slow gin in it. Then we filled into the church and it started. She looked stunning!! Funnily, I had no nerves whatsoever!

Everyone was milling around outside afterwards while pictures were taken. We managed to move them all off and we were soon in our car on the way to the reception. As Carla doesn’t drink Champagne, I had to finish the bottle myself………

We had all the obligitory photos, then sat down for a meal. Everyone commented on how good the food was. Then came the speeches. Carla’s dad was terrified, said about ten words (literally) then sat down. Up I pop. I gave a sterling speech! Very proud of myself considering it was wrote that morning with a hang over. I mentioned everyone, got everything in, comments on how good she looked blah blah blah. Perfect! Wigg was worrying about his all day, but gave a brilliant show. Even my brother, who is normally quite critical of Wigg, said how great it was.

Then the evening came round, the drinks started flowing some more and my memory fades a little. Suffice to say, I was the last one ot leave the bar about 3am for the marital bed. Surprisingly, the wedding was consumated and no brewers droop occured!!

Bring on Bali!!

Berlin Stag Weekend


What a weekend!! Some serious drinking was involved, quite a bit of cash got flashed about and spent, several calls on the porcelein phone were made and one cracking weekend was had!!

The merryment started Thursday evening. Our flight was at 6am on the Friday, so beer was being drunk on the Thursday night. Needless to say, I had 1 hours sleep before the taxi arrived to take us to Stanstead. This was fine as on the way, we had a crate of Tiger beer to sup. We stopped to collect my brother and best-man and continued on the journey. We were all given the obligatory Hats and Sunglasses to accompany our suits, however the hats were made of plastic and were so uncomfortable!!

We landed in Berlin early doors and proceeded to drink. We marched up to the Brandenburg gate as we were told by my brother in law that all the bars were up this direction. He lied simply so he could go sight seeing!! By this point, all 9 of us were busting for the toilet. Serveral went to various shops and cafe’s, but 4 of us decided to use a public toilet cubicle. We only had 1 Eruo between us. So we crossed swords…… Someone lent against the door button…..  Two little old lady’s had the shock of their lives as 4 English drunken bums were crossing swords in front of them……..

The rest of the night passed in a drunken blur. To our astonishment, there were “lady’s of the night” everywhere!! Very attractive they were too. 50 euros for quicky in the park, 80 euros for comfortable fuck in their flat and one even suggested she would shit on us!! My best man spent most of the night outside one of the bars talking to one of the lady’s. This pisssed her off as he wasn’t actually going to pay, but felt big that he was “chatting up” a prostitute. He gave up in the end when she threatened to slit his throat if he didn’t leave her alone….. We called it a night pretty much after this (26 hours straight on the lash will make you tired). At some point during the night, my mum’s husband managed to find himself out the front of the hotel in nothing but his underpants….. No more questions were asked…..

Following morning half of us were up bright and breezy at about 8.30 am and went to a Mexican restaurant for breakfast. The only reason we stopped here was because we saw they did cooked breakfasts and tequila was about the only thing that would save us! We sat there in the cooking sun for  the next 9 hours and proceeded to drink them out of Gold Tequila, pick up several people who decided to sit with us and drink, have some guy offer to sell us his daughter (only a joke of course) and spend over 600 euros. During this time, I was dressed in a stripey outfit ala convict style with handcuffs.

We decided to move on after this and walked off in, what we thought, was the general direction of the bars we had found the previous night. We passed the Holocaust memorial (dressed how I was didn’t seem evry appropriate!), Bugatti show room (drooling over the Veyron) and after an hours walk, found the bars.

Again, the night passed in a drunken blur. My dad ended up asleep in a chair at some restaurant by about 7, ended up going home early doors. We went to several bars/clubs/drinking establishments before the beer scooter came to collect us. We went back to the hotel, where we had a few nightcaps before turning in.

The flight home was awful. I was throwing up left right and centre and Ryanair doesn’t believe in spacious toilet facilities. As we landed, I had to make a mad dash for the toilet. Most people could see I was in trouble and graciously moved out of my way. Except one German woman who obviously wanted to be first of the plane. So I proceeded to hold my hand over my mouth, retch a few times and then breath on her. She soon moved!

All in all, it was a cracking weekend. More stories and events took place, but as my previous post explains: WHAT GOES ON STAG, STAYS ON STAG