"Fat to Fittie"

Well the day started how I expected, not good, no news on the room move but when I went for a shower guess what, no fecking shower gel, or any other product you’d expect to find in a hotel bathroom, I went downstairs and mentioned it to the girl on reception, only to be told it was nothing to do with her and was down to housekeeping, great, they’re not in for another hour, so I’m gonna stink during breakfast. I did mention my problem to the lady sitting next to me, who very kindly went and fetched me some of hers, not sure if it was kindness or because she couldn’t stand the smell, we sit close on the coach so guess it was the latter.

After a good soaping, I gave the tour company a call, hoping they could sort my problem, it was left with a promise to call me back later. The coach pulled up outside to take us to Mount Snowden, the weather was looking a bit crap, rain was forecast and a bit of wind, not great for a railway trip up Wales’s highest mountain. As we climbed on board the mountain train in groups of eight, the guide made an announcement, apparently we might not be able to make it all the way to the top, the wind was picking up, This caused me a mental dilemma, what about the group that’s at the top now, if it’s too windy for us to go up, then surely it’s too windy for them to come down.

There were some in the group who didn’t like my question, so I continued, So what if it’s us that gets to the top, then the wind picks up, we could be the ones trapped. “Yeah, you’re not helping” I was told, then I spotted two of our group who had turned up late, the guide had let others on who weren’t part of our gang so it was full, what’s gonna happen now? After a few minutes of budging people around, I’m glad to say they were allowed to join us, “I hope that doesn’t make us overloaded”, I said, something else that didn’t go down well,

I’m pleased to announce that the wind did drop and we got to the top, though visibility was absolutely nil. Walking into the huge cafe area was very strange, hundreds of people who had just spent 3 hours, walking to the top, put into perspective our dry 1 hr trip. Won’t lie, it smelt of a hundred wet dogs, everyone was soaking, I heard at least two guys in the toilet complaining that they had lost it, “was there when I set off” said one, can’t find it now,

I’d come all this way, there was no way I couldn’t go to the summit, it looked very dangerous though, lots of very steep, slippery steps, only an idiot would attempt this if he had a mobility problem, cue, said idiot. It was hard, if fact it was harder than hard, one of the most brutal half hours of my life, but also one of the most fantastic. I must have met nearly 200 people, all ascending and descending the slippery nightmare to reach the top. Everyone so polite, despite the shit windy, freezing cold weather, all congratulating complete strangers. I didn’t go to the actual very top, just 12 ft short, but trust me, the extremely dangerous crumbly steps to get there, really were not worth the risk for an overweight muppet with two walking sticks.

As I made my way back down, time for a quick visit to the toilet where after 30 mins in the freezing rain I realised I’d joined the disappearing cock club. As I finally entered wet dog hall, I couldn’t see any of my group, walking out to the train, only one minute late, the muppet in charge of the train was about to set off, despite some telling him I wasn’t on board. Apparently he said I was in another carriage and he’d counted me, yeah, clearly only thing he could count was the sheep he’d spent the night with. I felt a bit of comradeship with the group who had fought my corner when I climbed in the carriage and one said, “we knew you weren’t on board cos we couldn’t hear you.” Sure there’s a compliment there somewhere.

As we arrived at the next stop, I got a call from the tour company, they were really trying to sort my problem, basically the guy at the hotel we were staying was a twat, he put me in a totally inappropriate room, he had other’s available, but pretended he didn’t. He must think people are idiots, cos all I did in the morning was go on booking.com and saw there were two rooms available with sea views, despite the evidence, he still kept denying it to the tour company. Because of this, they offered to move me to another hotel, the driver, who’s a great guy said he’d come and pick me up, but the truth is, I didn’t want to go. I was getting on so well with nearly everyone in the group and despite the shit room, I didn’t want to leave them. Besides, if I’m going to take down Basil Fawlty, I need to be on the inside.