Tenerife 2018: Baba O'Neill's

There’s an (in)famous saying: “a drunk mind speaks a sober heart.” Perhaps unsurprisingly, this would soon enough be ratified when me, Anthony and Oliver decided we would like to go on holiday together whilst sipping an eighth pint in Plymouth (http://shaybottomleyblogs.blogspot.com/2018/05/anthonys-graduation-and-fancy-dress.html). Sure enough, after I had undressed as Ali G, the three of us Ollie and his dad, John, booked a hotel in Tenerife with three seats on the plane. Handy that!

We’d be joined by a fourth warrior in the form of Josh, who makes his Shay Bottomley Blogs debut. Josh had booked much later than us, but since the hotel was already booked we only had to make one phone call to inform the Club La Costa Monterrey staff that there’d be four residents instead of three. He’d be on a different flight, transferring from Wycombe to London Stansted via coach, which in my mind gave him the award for most courageous man of the holiday before we’d even set off!

Friday

Back in Maidenhead, me and Ant, who had spent five out of the seven days prior to departure drinking together to varying degrees of responsibility, were picked up by the Baldwins as we set off for the airport. A pleasant journey, highlighted by Ollie slating Audi drivers before realising his own father was one! Oops.

We were greeted at the airport by a great sense of irony as the predominantly Ryanair departure board was sighted at the same time as a text from John stating it had cost £3.50 just to drop us off. We met Josh, who was suffering from a stomach bug, before checking in with little hassle. Ant was stopped at security for leaving shower gel in his bag, but aside from that nobody was interrogated and we made it through without hassle. 

Bingo!

I’d flown TUi, formally Thomson, before to Tenerife, but I did not remember being told I could not lay down or sleep in the aisle last time! We all chuckled, although the temptation of having a snooze in front of the food and drinks trolley was certainly increased when I realised my seat refused to recline. Four uncomfortable hours later, we landed at Tenerife South Airport and met back up with Josh. Due to arriving at 8:00pm, we had no time to kill whilst our room was made. A quick stop off at the supermarket to collect essentials (mainly beer) and food for the week.

We’d be spending the evening inside our apartment as we were all rather tired from the day’s travels; a game of drinking Monopoly was in order, but the side effects of this included all four of us being too tipsy to do any maths. We’d hit the hay at roughly three in the morning, not before Josh fell through his own bed! #MadeMeLaugh

Beer wasn't the only thing in the fridge... a pillow and Monopoly would also end up in there!

Saturday

A relatively hangover-free day due to the early night, which meant we could enjoy a sober afternoon in the sun by the pool. Being a mere 2,000 miles from the equator meant that sunburn was inevitable, and soon enough Ant would be the first to be cooked to medium-rare. Fortunately, Ollie brought some after-sun, which ultimately meant I would not go 15 minutes without seeing one of my closest friends rubbing himself in cream for the rest of the holiday.

Before anyone else could declare war on the sun, we headed back and prepared for our first night out. A few drinks in our room to get through some of the 60 or so lagers we’d bought, and a quadruple rum and coke for Ollie (genuinely, there was more spirit than coke in the glass).

Dinner would be at restaurant I first went to with my family seven years ago, but I could not help but feel tense at being ‘coined’ by one of my fellow peers. This ‘genius’ creation was the brainchild of me and Ant whilst on the M3; it effectively meant that anyone who had their hand on their glass could be forced to neck the remainder of their pint should someone put a Euro coin in it. Josh, thankfully, would be the only victim at the Restuarante Tango, until we set off to the main strip.

O’Niell’s would offer us the best value for money, with 10€ buying five pints of San Miguel alongside five shots. The ‘Irish’ bar received a 9/10 on mine and Ant’s bar reviewing Instagram account @bars.tards, and was one of the better bars along the Veronicas Strip. We didn’t stay for too long, as the coining rule meant that we all drank our pints rather quickly!

Our oldest trooper of our group would be the first to struggle with the rather cheep booze; combined with the zinc from all the euros which had been placed in his drink, Josh would be the first to call it a night at around 3:00am. Me and Ant kindly watched as Ollie struggled to find Josh a taxi home before spending 20€ on a shisha, which would not be fully consumed as we would be following an hour later... 

Oh Anthony!

Or so we thought! To our shock and horror, we’d arrive home to an empty apartment as Josh and Ollie had still not arrived home over an hour after they’d left. Our concern was short-lived, as two mysterious figures made their way up the stairs to our room. Thankfully, the pair made it home, not after paying 20€ for a taxi that should have costed a fiver. Me and Ant, still drinking at this point, helped Josh into his (sofa) bed before heading off to sleep.

Sunday

Ollie and I would be the first two up with thanks to a gust of wind from the previous night’s dinner; we would commence ‘Toastiemania I’ on our own, as the other two spent the afternoon in bed. Unaccompanied by a responsible adult, me and Ollie would spend much of the day investing time (and euros) into the pool table. It was great fun, despite the roll towards the top left pocket. Soon enough, we catch the attention of the activities lady who decided to invite everyone to join our session at 7-4 to me.

Toastiemania I was a great success... just don't remind the chef!

After losing a game of killer pool to the kids, we retired to the room to discover movement as the other two had finally woken up. We were due to be heading out that night, and after some athletics (watching, in case there was even the slightest bit of doubt), we left towards the same area we’d been to the night before.

The previous night’s activities affected some of us more heavily than others, although credit to Josh as he did stay out until past midnight given the damage that had been done. More food, a pizza for me, before heading off to the Anchor. Not to be confused with Maidenhead’s own, the Tenerife Rip-off offered expensive, flat drinks and an awful karaoke set up, which to the joy of all in the bar prevented me and Ollie from singing out Wonderwall and Back in Black respectively.

The remaining three of us headed to the same strip as the night before, looking for similar deals to the previous night. This time for 10e we were offered 4 bottles of Stella (get in!), 4 shots, a fishbowl (which turned out to be my mum’s missing measuring jug) and a bottle of ‘Southern Comfort’ that had been opened and was in fact red.

Our 'quiet night,' me and Monsieur Osborn (right) would arrive home 8 hours later.

It appeared someone had taken advantage of the deal on Stella Artois a bit too heavily as we were witnesses to a fight. I say fight, I think we shut the door to the apartment with more pushing power than what was witnessed in McGregor v Mayweather Tenerife Edition. Ant guarded the whisky cranberry juice whilst the bouncer politely asked the ‘fighters’ to leave.

Ollie would be the first one to call it a night at approximately 3:30am, just as a girl tried to sell me and Anthony some shots and then proceeded to call us ‘quite fit’ before offering again. Without giving her business advice on sales pitches, we left for another bar, which granted us 4 bottles of San Miguel for a tenner. Not the best deal, especially since the place shut ten minutes after we went in. Not content with 7 pints, the two of us made our way to a club called Tramps. It was alright, a wee bit too empty and the drinks weren’t the cheapest, so we headed home for the night. It wouldn’t be until 6 in the morning until we went to bed…

Monday

Things start to get a bit fuzzy here, as two days of heavy drinking began to take their toll. We opted for a quiet night, with me and Ollie making a quick stop at the supermarket in the hunt for some sliders. We couldn’t find any without re-mortgaging my house, and instead had a go on the simulator - judging by my driving, I think Ollie won.

As it was a quiet night there really isn’t much to write home about, other than the fact that we played card games such as Spoons, Chase the Ace and Bullsh*t. We had a throwback to our childhoods with discussion mainly revolving around who had watched the most Thomas The Tank Engine episodes. Ollie’s beloved Plymouth Argyle announced a Chairman change at quarter past midnight, leading to the neighbours being treated to some Green Army-inspired jubilation from half of Argyle’s support base. 😉

Tuesday

Part of the reason for the early night was due to the fact that the cleaner(s) would be on their way to clean our room. As such, we’d use the day to visit Siam Park, one of the largest water parks in the world. I’d be sporting my Maidenhead United shirt in an effort to attract supporters as well as prevent sunburn. We done most of the rides, spending almost 90 minutes in the lazy river, and all of us bar the now-peeling Anthony tried the Tower of Power.

Despite Ollie’s concerns, the Siam Park staff didn’t raid our lockers or keep us hostage whilst we queued past closing time. Well worth doing, and a relative bargain at 37€ per person considering how much you get for your money – certainly a necessity for anyone visiting Tenerife.

Back to the hotel and normal service was resumed. We finished the rest of the Estrella signifying that we were now half way through our collection of beverages and headed down for a pizza that we could take away and eat once we’d got home many hours later. Ollie decided he would stay in for the night and do some exercise, two concepts that were certainly alien to myself.

Josh and Anthony would be joining me on the crusade through Playa de las Americas, which included a quick trip to the beach. We spent just under an hour wandering aimlessly around in search of a bar before heading back to the one place we knew best – O’Neill’s. Heavy drinking once again on the agenda, where we were joined by some German lads who we were able to communicate with through Google Translate. In bed for 4:30 in the morning to end another great night out.

Wednesday

Wednesday would follow the same structure as the previous days; wake up at 1:00pm, a ham and cheese toastie, some pool and some drinking. Me and Ant continued the tradition of waking up to a can of lager, but it soon became clear that the cleaners would be in for a treat judging by how much Dorada was left in the fridge once we left.

The following day would be mine and Ollie’s A-Level Results Day, so Ollie took the decision to stay in for another night. Me, who had received an unconditional offer to Portsmouth in January, was relatively tipsy by the time he made his decision, and with a bit of persuasion I would convince Josh and Ant to join me for a second night in a row. 

The barmaid at O’Neill’s seemed concerned for Ollie’s well-being considering she’d only seen all members of our group of 4 on the opening day of our holiday. This failed to distract us from ‘Have Maidenhead United Played Here?’ leading to disbelief from Anthony that my beloved local team had played at Coventry’s Ricoh Arena [link]. We made good friends with some Icelandic tourists on their second night on the island, yet their stronger Icelandic tobacco was no match for Britain’s own Anthony Osborn.

With money running out (and into overdraft in some cases) we left early to find Ollie still awake at 3:30am, no wonder since the air conditioning was down to a nippy 22C. A quick beer on the balcony as always for me and Ant, and we returned to find the ‘Polar Bear’ as I drunkenly named Ollie in his artic-like conditions still awake. I had no such problems falling asleep, partly due to the fact I’d hidden the remote for the air con and partly thanks to lager; this was the final straw for Ollie, who quickly decided it was time for me to leave the room.

I didn’t last much longer in the main room with Josh and Ant who figured that three in a bed that was struggling to fit two was not going to work. Thankfully, for his sake far more than mine, Ollie had finally fallen asleep by the time I’d gone back into the room for bed. 

Thursday

“You’re the worst person I’ve ever shared a room with,” argued Ollie on the morning of Results Day. In all fairness he probably had a very valid point after enduring five days of my snoring and breaking win - I’d woken him up with a Shay Bottomley Special more than once within the previous 6 days.

Nevertheless, Ollie done very well in his exams, well enough to get into his first-choice university, just down the road from me (the M27 to be exact) at Southampton. (I wouldn’t know my results until Saturday as I’d forgotten to hand the form in). We decided to celebrate by challenging the kids to round 2 on the pool table with similar results as Sunday’s match up; before Ollie could “test her [the German event organiser] knowledge of World Rules” on the pool table, we left for the room and prepared for our last night on the Isle of ‘Rife.

Ollie wasn't best pleased with me calling him out on a Non-Standard foul

Ant had begun Stage Peel of his sunburn and Josh had recovered from his alcoholic adventure on the maiden night, and so the last night was sure to be a good one. We gave it our best efforts, but it looked like the cleaners would be treated to the best part of 20 cans of lager once we had left.

We headed for a final night on the town, and despite looking around we really couldn’t find a better deal than O’Neill’s. We redeemed old vouchers collected over the previous week and made the last night a one to remember. None of the Irish or country music to mine and Ant’s disappointment, but that may have been due to our early departure from the newest entrant on the Shay Bottomley List of Great Bars, Pubs and Nightclubs.

Despite arriving at a fairly modest 3:00am, the neighbours weren’t best pleased with our rendition of The Who’s Baba O’Reilly. A last Dorada for the lads to wrap up a full week of drinking.

Friday II

The last day was relatively uneventful, other than our neighbours confronting Ollie (who I believe was in bed during Baba O’Reilly) about last night’s music concert. Another day in front of the pool and a final match up on the pool table which we now own a 20% share in before setting off to the airport. Landed by 1:00am, and despite Theresa May’s best efforts not to let me back into the UK, we were in bed by 3:00am at the Baldwin household.

‘A fantastic holiday with fantastic lads,’ is what I wrote on Facebook, but in reality, that was an enormous understatement – I loved every minute of our time away, a trip which contained memories I’ll keep until the day I die. I said to Anthony soon after that this, much like England’s World Cup performance, was only the start of many, many good years to come

I wish I could write more, more descriptively perhaps as this unedited version of the blog has just surpassed 2800 words. There are memories which you’ll have to ask me about outside of this family-friendly blog (which so far has been about nothing else apart from drinking – might need to change that!), and I’ll leave it to Ant to tell you the quote of the holiday! 😉 The fact of the matter is though I couldn’t have asked for a better week away with three top fellas… same time next year chaps?