Holiday Highlights Past and Present - Part Three

 Part Two finished on a bit of a down note so let’s get back to Happy. 

For the best single night’s entertainment whilst on a holiday we have to go back to 1988 when we stayed just outside Puerta del a Cruz on the island of Tenerife. Our hotel Rep had advised us of the various extras we could book and the one that seemed very appealing was an evening at the Tenerife Palace where we would get dinner, see a top class international bill the stars of which would be The Drifters. We booked immediately and Pat was advised to wear flat shoes because the track leading to the venue was a bit rough. Just a tip but it did raise an eyebrow or two. We had a week to go before the evening and in that time we walked into the town almost every day by the same route but somehow we never took the same route back. This was not intentional but did allow us to see something different each time. On one return trip we were on a track on the edge of the mountain which was hard going úntil, to our relief, we found a hole in the mountain which was being used to sell drinks and small snacks. Whether this enterprise ever made a profit is unlikely but we sat at the only table with a fine view down the mountainside. Our interest was piqued by what appeared to be an arena with a circle inside it so we asked the entrepreneurial owner/waiter/dishwasher what it was. He told us it was where the Spanish Dancing horses were trained. “And what about the big building with the corrugated tin roof next to it” I asked. “That’s the Tenerife Palace” was his reply. Gulp. Corrugated tin roof! Rocky track unsuitable for high heels! What had we let ourselves in for? Too late to back out now. Our evening of entertainment duly arrived and our trepidation had not diminished. The track was definitely rugged but the entrance to the venue looked presentable enough. We entered and to our astonishment the interior was as good as, if not better, than any nightclub I had seen in London. Things were looking up. All the tables seated four and we selected one not far from the front with a good view of the stage and a while later were joined by a couple from Kent who’s names I can’t remember but we’ll call them Fred and Freda for the purposes of this post. We couldn’t have expected more cordial companions. The meal was fine and the drinks flowed and the entertainment was, as promised, top quality international acts, along with scantily, but respectably, clad dancers. The Drifters, including several of the original members, were excellent. Finally the evening was over but, in fact, it wasn’t. Fred decided he needed to go to the Gents before leaving but it was ages before he returned and explained that he had been chatting to the Drifters (not in the toilets I hasten to add, but at the bar). “Come and meet them” he said ushering us to the bar where  the Drifters and the dancers, now dressed in their everyday attire (big sigh), were gathered.Time went on and it was only when we noticed that the candles had been extinguished and the chairs placed upon all the tables except ours did we realise it was time to leave. It was a great ending to the evening and our last sight of our cordial friends when we exited the building was Fred, supported by Freda, weaving his unsteady but merry way down the rugged track whilst we made our way up the track towards our hotel. Unforgettable.

My final category is the most perfect single day of any holiday and for this I have to take you back to our 2011 tour of Australia. Our coach had motored north from Cairns on the coastal highway towards our destination of Port Douglas where we were due a two night stay at the Rydges Sabata Resort on the outskirts of Port Douglas town. We were late arriving and the restaurant had closed so we made do with an enormous pizza. The following day, 27th January 2011, we were due to visit the blue mountains but the schedule had been quite gruelling and Pat and I decided to skip the excursion and have a more leisurely day exploring Port Douglas. Having waved off our fellow travellers early that morning we enquired at reception for directions and were offered two alternatives, either take the direct route along the coastal road or the scenic route along the beach. It was a beautiful sunny day, not too hot, and a very gentle breeze. We opted for the scenic route, after all we had all day to ourselves. We followed the direction’s: turn right out of the hotel, walk as far as the tennis courts, cross the coastal road, take the small path  through the bushes and trees to the beach then turn left along the beach until you reach Port Douglas. We came out on the aptly named 4 mile beach just over a quarter of a mile from the town. The beach stretched as far as the eye could see, it was wide and the sand was pristine. The sea was a proper blue, not the grey colour often seen, and it was hard to distinguish the horizon as the sea merged almost perfectly with the cloudless sky. The only human activity was a couple of people walking their dogs and throwing sticks in the sea for them to chase. We hadn’t got more than 50 yards when we noticed a young lady on the grass verge playing a guitar and singing. Quite isolated for a busker I thought. She told us her name was Eliza and she was rehearsing new songs with which to entertain some of the folks in care homes. The song she was practising was ‘You are my sunshine’ which Pat and I knew the words to so we formed a singing trio accompanied by Eliza on the guitar. I don’t suppose that the Everly Brothers or The Beach Boys would have been impressed by the harmonies but it sounded good to us. We said our goodbyes and walked the extra distance to the town. Port Douglas straddles a strip of land that protrudes into the ocean so the Main Street starts at the sea and meets it again at the other end. The left side of Main Street was dwellings and B&B’s while the right side was a continuous row of top quality shops, Jewellers and Ladies clothes amongst others which was a surprise for what we considered was a sleepy town. We spent time in every shop not just looking at the goods on display but also chatting to the staff or owners and, believe it or not, Pat set her heart on a Black Opal ring which, after some haggling, we bought. Having asked if there was somewhere really nice to eat we were directed to ‘The Tin Shed’ which was at the far end of the Main Street. Not the first tin roof we had ever encountered. This establishment turned out to be the local United Services club and although we were too late for lunch and too early for dinner we were invited to have a table and a fewdrinks while we waited. We sat on a wooden veranda and watched and waved as various small yachts passed by within feet of us. Wonderful. We engaged in conversation with an English lady who now lived in Port Douglas and the afternoon drifted by along with a few drinks. Our meal was worth waiting for and we enjoyed it along with a few more drinks although when you consider the time we were in the club our  drinking wasn’t excessive although it might have seemed that way. Actually, maybe it was one or two more than normal but I’m sure the sun soaked some of it up. Gradually the sun went down and darkness started to descend so we had to consider making our way back to the hotel which we could do either by walking back along the coast road or take the hotel shuttle. It was still warm and I favoured the walk, that is, until Pat mentioned the pythons. Yes, pythons. Our coach driver on the journey from Cairns had advised that he could not drive any faster in case he ran over a python which are protected by law. At the time we hadn’t really taken him seriously but with dark descending that evening and me being the heroic and brave soul that I am I quickly changed my mind and opted to take the shuttle. To be honest I’m not too keen to meet up with a python day or night. It had been a wondrous day and all the pieces fitted together perfectly. The best holiday day by far. I wish I could bottle it and live it all over again.

That’s the end of this trilogy and I hope that it entertained you and you enjoyed my little trip down memory lane. If you get a spare minute why don’t you sit back with a glass of your favourite tipple and cast your mind back to your favorite holiday times. Relax.