Way back in the summer of 2012.
I had just spent the weekend in Ireland celebrating the wedding of my friends Ed and Leanne, whom I had lived with in Brisbane. My head was sore and I was counting the costs of the trip as I walked through Exeter Airport arrivals. Within moments of turning my phone on I had an incoming call. It was from the Moreton boys – a friend had just had his long term relationship break up, he was feeling down, so a holiday was being planned for September and did I want in? Perhaps I was still slightly drunk from the Irish celebrations. I said yes immediately and f**k the cost!
A week or so later we all convened for a trip to the travel agents to see what kind of deal we could find. One fried breakfast later we were all booked. 7 nights in Albufeira, Portugal. We promised ourselves we were too old for a boys holiday and for once, we’d be sensible. You know, exploring, sight seeing, tennis, golf, maybe just 1 night on the drink? Lies … all lies.
September came, off we flew and carnage almost immediately commenced. Needless to say, partying and drink featured heavily though I did manage to head off exploring on a couple of occasions at least!
Here’s some of the snapshots I think I’m safe enough to share. Countless others are for our eyes only.
Nowadays I’m solely a solo traveller and that’s unlikely to change unless I ever meet a nice girl. It’s good to remember those days though. Even if it took me a week to get over it.
