Bucko's World

Entry Date: Saturday 8th August 2009
Come on, admit it. We’ve all done it. It’s a cold, drab, depressing mid-winter day and the Seasonal Affective Disorder (or SAD for short; never has a condition been so well named) is kicking in and you can only see one way out. On your way home from work you make a quick diversion into the Travel Agents and grab yourself a handful of glossy holiday brochures to while away the hours until the sun shines properly again.

Flicking through the pages whilst nursing a cup of Lemsip, you’re seduced by photos of swaying palms, aquamarine seas, and smouldering sunsets framed by beautiful people touching cocktail glasses and looking like they’re about to go off and have sex as soon as the photographer has packed his tripod away.

And then you see it. The five-star, luxury hotel room with all trimmings. Sea views, rooms with beds that would comfortably sleep six, Olympic swimming pool sized baths, Olympic swimming pool sized pool even. It looks the absolute business. Before you know it, the credit card is out and you’ve booked 2 weeks B&B and a mid sized, four door, family hatch to haul you and the sprogs around in once you get there. The excitement builds from here.

Unfortunately when you’re kicked off the Tour Operators’ coach several months later it’s all a bit of a let down. The hotel isn’t quite as flash as it looked in the brochure. The pool maybe not quite so big. The beds, the room perhaps and even the view are not quite as impressive as the glossy pages had you imagine. It’s fair to say you might be a tad disappointed.

And so as we pull up outside the house that is to be our home for the next two weeks we are all just a little apprehensive.

And we were right to be. The house isn’t vaguely similar to the one in the brochure. It’s EXACTLY the one in the brochure. Down, as it happens, even to the number. It’s fantastic, and we sit parked on the drive for a full five minutes just staring at the loveliness. The spell is soon broken and we leg it indoors to see if the inside is as good as the out. It is, It’s marvellous. Four beds, three baths, two big sitting areas, dining room, breakfast area, kitchen. Even some place where women go to do stuff to clothes too! Fuck me, it’s better than home. But it’s not until we throw back the living room curtains that the piece de résistance is revealed. A huge patio area containing the bluest swimming pool and bubbliest Jacuzzi any of us have ever seen. Job done!

As we all dump our cases, don our trunks, and slip into the inviting blue waters beers in hand, I can’t help but think - It may have been twenty nine hours long, but at least it seems the day has ended in paradise.