Saturday, 5 February 2011

The Maltese Chronicle 2010 Part 4...

Tuesday 30/11/10...

Warm sunshiny days followed by super cool evenings found us wanting more and more. Each new day promised welcome experiences usually wrapped with mountainous volumes of laughter. Today though my brain screams ‘Retail Therapy’

Tuesday already! After breakfast we find ourselves at the hotels reception, luxurious spa treatments booked... Then it was time to Shop, shop, shop, till ya drop, drop, drop ... along the way we book our planned day trip to Gozo. Tuesday’s turning out to be a day of decisions and being super duper organised. Continuing on our shopping trip we giggle, tell jokes and talk about plans for the evening. After much discussion we wonder whether we should give the strictly come dancing team a miss. It’s unanimously decided that we’d go in search of different entertainment in the beautiful town of Sliema... Later that day, I was amazed to discover just how many disappointed faces there were when they realise, we’re going out and about for the evening.

As we glow from lots of sun, sea and relaxation we make our way to dine in one of the many extensive restaurants situated within the hotel. A beautiful evening meal followed lusciously with many glasses of magic juice, we trot off on our journey through the darkness in search of pastures new... Now if I tell you we walked for an hour and fifteen minutes without finding one single pub, you’d be forgiven for not believing me... loads of restaurants but, not one sound of music or laughter hits us as we roam through the beautiful old town. Off the beaten track at last we find one nestled on the corner, we also scarily observe a few dodgy looking people outside leaning against the old building, watching as we approach... talk about feeling uncomfortable. However, our shoes were pinching so in we went... the tiny pub held a huge, plasma TV. Approximately eight people stood around the tiny bar watching football. All eyes turn in our direction... there’s a hunger within their eyes, as if they’ve never seen a female before.

The barman bright and friendly politely asks,

“What can I get you ladies?”

Drinks ordered I hear Miranda whisper,

“If he touches me one more time, they’ll be trouble”

Needless to say we didn’t stay long...

I had to laugh as we left the rough establishment, because even though I know we’re totally lost, our shoes are killing us, we are god knows where in the dark... all of a sudden, the old fogies ball didn’t look quite so bad.

“Shall we get back and dance our butts off?” I announce brighter than I felt,

"Yes" came three very tired replies.

Landing back in the hotel, Friendly faces glow as yells and whistles went up. Toe-tapping music blares as we walk through those familiar double doors to the warm welcome of the bar... If truth be known, It definitely feels like we've come home.

“I thought you were out to venture to livelier places” Selina grins,

“Let’s just say we couldn’t find any decent pubs” I winked.

“Great stuff” smiles Selina.

“Who’s the captain?” I nod towards a small, white-haired guy who fast approaches.

“Oh this is Charlie, I’ll introduce you”

“Charlie this is Carrie Brad-Shaw, she’s a writer”

Charlie took my hand eagerly, kissed it gently... as he did, I felt myself spin strangely back through time. My senses told me as a young man Charlie was in the RAF, I could see him so clearly as he stood so proud, so very handsome; tears prick my eyes because, I know he’s one of the good guys.

“Hello Charlie, so pleased to meet you” I beam.

Wow I thought, a real English gentleman... I later discover, Charlie is a fabulous 90years young. For the rest of the week, Charlie takes to joining us whenever he can.

It was on this evening we confirmed to friends, that we’d decided to hold a fancy dress party on Friday, our last night... the news spread through the bar pretty fast.

“Yes” I confirm for the umpteenth time, “We’ll all be wearing outfits, each outfit will hopefully make you smile”

Still deep in conversation about the forthcoming Fancy dress night, who should walk in? Yep, you guessed it, Mr Young-Blood and his mates. The chemistry so visible... I watch with wonder as the little blue bolts of lightning fly between Samantha and her stud.

In the last chronicle if you remember, I said ‘we’d be in trouble’ the comment was said with a sort of tongue in cheek attitude... If you knew Samantha, you’d know, she was more than capable of looking after all of us put together, but it was our opinion, not with a bottle and half of wine inside her.

I’m sure you will understand when I tell you, my actions were of a protective friend... after her discreet disappearance my protective senses are alerted. I decide to search the vicinity, just to make sure she's ok... at the same time, I felt a little upset that she’d not disclosed she was going. On the gorgeous terrace which is totally surrounded florally, by potted palm trees and exotic flowers, a vivid colourful display which genuinely took your breath away. I scan the perimeter but, see nothing, apart from the shimmer of the sea, lit so romantically by a gigantic silver moon. Pausing just for a second, I wonder warmly if my own Mr Big is missing me.

Giggles alert me. From within the darkness of a shadowy doorway I hear the unmistakeable sound of sloppy kisses mixed with heavy breathing. From out of the dark doorway, I see Samantha’s bright red shoe, confirming it was definitely her. Smiling, I sit down quietly, cross my arms and wait. Samantha and her young man are engulfed in the throes of passion. Eventually they fall into the light, it’s then Mr Young-Blood jumps in surprise...I witness his overwhelming embarrassment, he makes a quick exit.

Samantha also surprised by my presence asks a little to sharply,

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m looking out for my friend” I state firmly.

“I’m doing ok thank you very much, or I was”

“I can see that, I’m making sure you stay that way”

With hands firmly on her hips she stamps her foot and hiccup’s.

“Your cramping my style Carrie, cramping it big-time, I was doing ok then”

“You’ll thank me tomorrow”

With that sentence hanging in the air between us Samantha stomps off to the bar like a two year old.

Back with the girls and feeling much more relaxed I order more drinks. Looking around, Mr. Youngblood and his mates had thankfully disappeared.

Samantha didn’t scowl for long, five minutes later we were dancing with our Jerry’s.

I hear Samantha giggle and watch as she seeks-out her next victim.

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