Ron and Eff on holiday
You’ve all had the pleasure of participating at the Christmas disaster of our heroes, Ron and Eff, a charming couple, who live a life far flung from the hustle and bustle, but somehow or other “things happen”. Things which make life bearable for us, looking in, and things which Ron often thinks make life intolerable, until Eff points out all the positive things to him.
Now don’t think that they only have Christmas adventures, oh dear me – NO! They go on holiday as well!
I will repeat, any resemblance to people living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental, and the content should be treated as purely fictional, until proved otherwise! (Ed note).
“Look Eff,” moaned Ron, “it’s not that I dislike swamps and things, I can even put up with one or two flies or mosquitoes, but when we booked up for this local safari, I thought we’d see some of the more exotic things, I mean, bloody flies and things we’ve got loads of at home. We don’t have to go hundreds of miles to see them, and I’ll tell you something else – if that damned guide points once more at a bloody frog and says “look – a frog”, I’ll break his bloody neck”
“Oh Ron”, sighed Eff,” I’m sure things will buck up, when we get a little bit further into the wilds. There’s probably too much activity for the rare species. Let’s wait a while, and then we’ll see some exotic things, I’m sure!”
Crack! Ron’s hand descended on a small, innocent mosquito, squashing the thing flat on his new virgin white T-shirt, and squirting a red streak of somebody’s blood down the front.
Ron felt a sensation of satisfaction and Eff just looked at the red streak before saying “Right, my lad, you can take that T-shirt off right now, I’m going to soak that stain in water, it’ll be easier to clean later!”
“But Eff, I’ll get eaten alive. Look at the clouds of the little beggars just waiting for fresh, white flesh-we’ll just throw the T-shirt away if we can’t get it clean. Besides, we haven’t had lunch yet, and that mayonnaise stuff that comes with the chips is a bit runny.”
“Ron, it only runny because you put so much of it on your chip sandwiches, and anyway, I wanted to talk to you about that – we’re in France, they don’t eat things like us, they don’t have brown sauce and ketchup and good stuff like that, that’s why we come here every year – to have a change!”
“Well, I reckon they’d be a sight more friendly if they did eat better stuff, and anyway, I saw bottles of HP and Ketchup in that great Restaurant yesterday.”
“Yes Ron, but that was a Macdonald’s. I didn’t know that they had restaurants like that in France, and it wasn’t as good as ours, back home.
“Yeah, Eff, the burgers were probably made of frogs’ meat or something like that. Mind you, the coke was all right.”
“Well Ron, I think we should leave restaurants like them alone whilst we’re on holiday, and we’ll start this evening, we’ll try that place just down the road from the campsite – it looks all right.”
“OK Eff, if you think so. I can’t understand half of what’s on the menu, but we might find somebody who speaks a civilised language!”
“Oh – don’t worry about that, Ron. I’ll translate for you, I’ve got my little book of phrases, and the rest of it’s quite easy, really. On top of that, I know what you like, so it shouldn’t be too difficult!”
“Oh Christ – Eff he’s found another bloody frog – why don’t we take it with us this evening, to the restaurant, that way we can show ‘em what we don’t want!
So it was that Ron and Eff found themselves, that very evening, sitting on the veranda of the restaurant, just down the road.
Ron seemed a bit cheesed off, and when Eff said, “Well, my love, that all went off very well, didn’t it?” he had difficulty to respond, being busily occupied in scratching various parts of the anatomy, at least those bits he could reach and still remain within the domains of decency.
“Well, Eff,” he finally responded, “ If you can call being left in the middle of the bloody swamps because we had only booked a “half-tour”, being picked up an hour later by something which resembled more a Calcutta bicycle taxi, being eaten alive by beasts I never even knew existed, and finally being told that if I did it all again, but the full tour this time, I could have a 10% discount – well, if you can call that a success, then OK. I can tell you though, Eff, my love, the absolute hammer was getting back to the camp-site and finding our stuff 100 yards away from where we had left it this morning. What did he call it again? A mini-tornado? How come these bloody things always find us?”
“I know, I know, sugar, it was all a little bit trying, but we did see a little bit of nature, and I got some lovely pictures of some birds, flamingos I think he called them.”
“Yeah, Eff, I don’t know, but I reckon one of them roasted and served up with some roast tatties and Brussels and a bit of your lovely gravy might have been better than whatever it was I ate this evening.”
“Oh Ron, now you’re being spiteful, after all, it was quite difficult to understand the menu, but I thought the meal was very good- really - wasn’t their fault that little mistake about frogs. Obviously they thought that was what we wanted, with you going on about them all the time! Your imitation of a croak and a jump certainly was convincing. Anyway, once you get over the shock, they tasted quite nice, really, bit like fishy chicken, on a smaller scale of course.”
“Yes, Eff, for someone who doesn’t eat either chicken or fish, you made a great choice for me there, and I reckon the cats in the garden are still enjoying my chicken gizzard salad you ordered as my starter! At least we didn’t get those slimy snails we saw climbing up the wall, as a dessert!”
“Hang on, Ron,” said Eff, mischievously, “we haven’t ordered our dessert yet, what would you like?”
“Eff – I think I’ll just have a coffee!”
To be continued.
weather at Vauvert, France
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