Well more crime to report in the leafy suburb of Aigburth and a horrible incident over the road were Joan had parked her car partly over Albert’s disability space in Lugard Road. I could hear the commotion from my back office. Before I knew it Albert’s wife Marigold was having a right old go at Joan using industrial language from the 40’s. Then Sid (Joan’s husband) came bolting out of the house like Usain Bolt at around the speed of 2mph and he had come out to back his wife up over the parking tooled up with his walking stick. Anyway after a few minutes and all the dirt being dished up about a bingo win in The Aigburth Peoples Hall back in 1973 that was never split correctly between the two couples it had calmed down enough for Sid to fix his combover which had flew off in the barney. I popped over and we laughed about the incident and all retired into the parlour for some tea and Battenberg cake twitching at the curtains awaiting the next murder to hit L17.
I knew the kids were up to something with the I love you Daddy talk and sure as hell I was right. I was invited into the living room to watch a powerpoint presentation which was all about why they should be allowed to buy a hamster. Wow I just cozied up to my mum to ask my dad if I could have a packet of footy stickers. Here was I (And Mrs Fay) with a five minute presentation including a 7 bullet point slide on “Why we should be allowed” ha ha ha. Have to give them full marks for trying. Anyway after a bit of time being on best behaviour I allowed them to buy little “Toffee” and it was pointed out to me that it was an Everton name to which my reply was I dislike rodents anyway so “Toffee” is a spot on name. I might pluck up the courage to hold Toffee one day as I am scared of them types of things. The only hamster for me is X-Hamster but don’t look at that on your works computer. The hamster is a boy though to that now makes the score willies 4 (ME, Banny the dog, Zuma the dog and Toffee the hamster) vs “Narnies” 4 Mrs Fay and the three kids. After a mention on Twitter of the kids cunning plan I got a Tweet back of the official Microsoft Office Twitter account “What a great use of PowerPoint! The question on everyone’s mind is……did it work?” Well it did in the end.
Two final musings of their short blog is that in the Iraq town on Mosul IS, ISIS, Isil, Deash or whatever you call it have been overthrown and there were jubilant footage of Iraqis jumping around in celebration of the fact that IS. ISIS, Isil or Deash had been overthrown and that they could now smoke again as it was banned under the rule of IS, ISIS….. (You get the point) Grown men leaping around waving boxes of 200 cigarettes around with almost tears in their eyes acting like they had just had a free supermarket sweep at a mega supermarket in Calais. Do we not spend millions of pounds a year trying to keep the good people of Great Britain (Not Europe) off the old cancer sticks and yet here is the news proudly showing us that all you need in your country is the freedom to have a fag and this is best way to convey this to us on the evening news after years of oppression ? Just needed one Iraqi like the fella below to truly take the piss.
And finally whilst waling the dog up Mersey Road today it was half time in an amateur football match and the team nearest the fence were obviously getting beat. There was an inquest going on and one lad said ” For fucks sake a couple of them are still carrying last years chrimbo dinner” ha ha. I wonder if towards the end of my non illustrious career when the kits seemed to shrink on me if I was ever described as that ?
Fay x x x x x x x x
So what would we make of The Lisbon a vibrant city centre venue, based in Victoria Street, in the heart of Liverpool’s gay quarter. The Lisbon is a grade 2 listed Victorian building with an ornate ceiling that will take your breath away! Ok Ok thats the Lisbon gag out of the way early lets get down to the serious stuff and up at 3am on Friday and onto Liverpool airport for Sausage on toast and a Desperados at 3.50am and the party had started for the second annual football trip away to Lisbon. With a couple of more drinks including a Magners on the plane for purely thirst purposes (Honest) we landed in Lisbon just after breakfast and after a wild cab journey through the crowded streets of Lisbon we managed to survive without a major road traffic accident and as we were early for our room we headed over the road to a small park and sampled some continental cafe culture in the guise of 5 large Sagres times two. At this point we seen a woman (Yes I know) do some of the best reverse parking we had ever seen. Finally up to the splendid apartment we had I managed to nail the best bed though for some strange reason wasn’t allocated a bedroom door. To stop us fully going on the piss we decided to head up to Benfica’s ground for a tour though still managed a bevy up there. We decided to venture up there via the Metro and what a great idea that was as we continued using the metro all weekend. The ground itself housed a great museum with what can only be described as the best trophy room I have seen which was over several floors which you could stand at the bottom and look up. There was so much to do in the museum (including a great bit on Eusebio and some boss original Adidas items) but we had the actual ground tour to do as well and had to rush off.
All the run of the mill stuff on the stadium tour and now completing the circle of the great Ronaldo and me having occupied the same space though sadly Ronaldo never quite reached his potential but does have a better figure than me. I spotted a lovely retro Benfica top but Ronaldo has the last laugh on me as it didn’t fit ! So we had a pint and headed back via the Metro deciding to get off at the waterfront for some more cafe culture though we soon sussed it was bit rough and ready with some shady looking meff’s offering to help people reverse park for money and we quickly drunk up and headed up what can only be described as hills totalling the height of Moel Famau but with the added dimension of slippery vintage tiled pavements covered in the early evening rain falling from the Lisbon sky. With five half pissed scousers attempting this summit it was fun at times. We stopped off on the way and some more cultural bars and even ended up all having a glass on wine each and yes we did hold our little fingers out as we drank. Watching the sensible people of Lisbon getting the tram we continued up the hills and steps eventually making it to base camp and the Irish bar called “The Corner Bar” after a couple of more drinks we headed for a scran over the road and on leaving me and a mate would be hemmed him and decided just to turn around and drop the six inches out of the window. The man on the door politely said “That is a window not a door” to we we looked at him drunkenly bemused and said so it is. Boozed up Brits abroad jumping out of six inch high windows. Cant take us anywhere. Around the corner to a bar we didn’t get the name of the DJ banged some Beatle songs on and away we went. We did try and leave this bar but it was pissing down and we got about two metres out of the door and turned around to party on and one particular lowlight was a pint of Mojito. Fuck me who puts leaves in drink and the only thing I like mint is an Aero. A picture paints a thousand words part one.
We fell in about 2.15 so I narrowly missed out on a 24 hour drinking session but I think it was a world record. Come Saturday morning I was feeling pleasantly OK and after a lovely morning lounging around the house we headed out for brunch AKA burger and chips. I had a blue Adidas top on with yellow trim and one local walked past me and said ” Ahhhh Swedish and give me a big up” We strolled around the sprawling streets of Lisbon (Downhill this time) and found a square with a few bars the first of which didn’t sell beer just wine. We weren’t in full on “Quilt” mode at that point but the next bar done large Sagres. Finding another Irish Bar and a power cut and then a British Bar (Yes we are culture vultures) we then headed up to the Sporting Lisbon match a man down who stayed and then went to bed as Friday night had caught up with him. Sporting stadium itself was nearly the same as Benfica’s but just a touch smaller. The hotdogs were not a nice as Barcelona’s last year and even came with mini chips crisps on ?? The football itself was shite with Sporting going one nil down in the final 20 mins of the game. We headed home on 80 mins to beat the match rush to The Metro to get back on the ale as it was alcohol free in the ground. We did miss a Sporting equaliser in about the 97th min. Highlight of the game was a rendition of “My Way” just before kick off and I must remember to use Sporting Clube de Portugal as their name.
So we headed back to the Corner Bar and it was about 9pm and never mind boozed up Brits abroad but this was boozed up French abroad. I have never seen French people having so much fun apart from the odd dodgy VHS video I was passed in the early 90’s. They had the DJ putting on some French classics and had the whole bar including us with the “La La’s” in the song but never fear this was a marathon not a sprint and we would prevail in the end as he had the French singing “Hey Jude” with us and I done my bit to mend European relations after Brexit and voting to leave myself (No I am not a fucking raving racist) We had been offered drugs several times walking the streets of Lisbon though the best effort was from a man who signalled to me through the glass door of the corner pub doing a snorting motion. Sadly I just said no and waved him away but then just seconds after thought I should have done the signal back to him of me tightening a belt on my upper forearm and then tapping my veins and inserting a needle. The joke that got away. It was back on the wine for a few quegs as I switched to vodka red bull. One old French man wanted his missus to take a picture with the two young girls serving drinks and they were not overly keen to snuggle up to him so we dived in front of the french man and invited the whole pub to get in on the photo which most of them did much to our amusement. Not sure of he ever did get his pervy picture as overtime he then tried somebody would jump in on the picture. I managed to avoid a game of limbo in the pub and as the bar shut we asked for our bill and it was about 5 foot long and totalled 330 euro’s though in fairness we were in the bar about 6 hours and every 100 euro’s we must have got a shot each (Two Jameson’s and a Samuka) the bar manager kindly let us leave last and we headed home having to carry somebody again. We dumped him in his bed and had noticed opposite our house there was a house with some disco lights in that as you can see by day light just looked like any other building in Lisbon.
There were no signs on this house and you could just walk in for free but there was a room with a Dj in and a bar with a strange system where you had to go back the door and order your drinks and pay and then go the bar ?? We ventured up the beautiful double stairs and found another Dj and a chill out room. So we danced away and then had a time out on a few beanbags before dancing until the Dj ended his set. Highlight for me was “Da Funk” by Daft Punk. We managed to just about let the DJ get a picture and a picture paints a thousand words part II and look at the joy on our faces. It was 4.30am and time for bed. Take that the French and your 9.30pm peaking. Though with smoking allowed in the bars we had been drinking in we all had a croaky voice and stage 1 cancer.
Another lazy morning in the house and we walked down to the front and the power cut Irish Bar as strangely the belter Corner Bar didn’t open until 5pm and we wanted to watch some footy and come across a small square overlooking a valley in Lisbon and an amazing view helped by a busker playing some blues music. I managed to get a special burger as the bar man told me (No lettuce, cheeses or anything just the burger and the bun naked) We noticed a drink called the Irish Car bomb (Guiness and Tia Maria, no we didn’t have one) and walking up yet another fucking hill via a cocktail bar and a Cuban bar, which was showing fashion TV. Forgot how good that was we made it back to our spiritual home the corner bar. A quieter night tonight and after one of the lads had a pint spilled on his Martin Bell covered chino’s (Must not smirk, must not smirk) I headed home in bed for 10.45 after hitting vodka red bulls early. We checked on one of the lads who didn’t make it out at all on Sunday who’s name will be withheld to protect the guilty (Dave) and that was that. Monday Airport via the Metro and not a life threatening cab and then home feeling just tired not hungover I was met with a passionate reception from my two dogs and the wife and three kids were just wondering what gifts were in my bag. Perfume for Mrs Fay as I need to get the credits back up as we had decided that day that the venue for the third annual football trip will be held by the city of Berlin. Had to go for the perfume as I wasn’t sure how I would get this home with just a flight bag ?
Thanks for a top weekend lads and that house party we fell into will be remembered forever. As will the Lol application we discovered on our iPhones.
Fay x x x x x x x x
So still have the lingering after effects of my manflu I caught after having a day out at a geo-thermal spa in Iceland added to this was me injuring my wrist playing footy just under a week ago and Mrs Fay’s current sympathy level is about that of my overdraft near maximum minus level possible. On October 6th 1986 Adam John Fay was born. Adam was the golden child that made me an uncle having just turned 13. My dad was in such a good mood that when he got in from the hospital around breakfast time he declared it national Adam day and I was given a day off from Calderstones school. My dad indeed must have been drunk on emotion. Well me, I wasn’t that arsed and was most probably busy tape recording the number one song from the time “True Blue” by Madonna. I would soon be arsed as I was getting kicked out the big bedroom in the house into the box room for Lord Adam to live in. If truth be told I remember no effect whatsoever on my life on having a crying, shitting baby land in the house and as he grew up he was always a good excuse to play endless games of footy and cricket in the garden and then later on Mario Kart on the SNES. So fast forward 30 years and October 6th 2016 and a surprise party on town in some gaff off Hanover St that has table tennis tables ? Adam has the added charm of being a fanny magnet when I went up to the local shop in Aigburth so was often dragged up there on the promise of a milky bar as a 16 year old me tried to cool in front of all the girls ha ha. Adam didn’t have a clue about the party and was genuinely surprised. Happy 30th birthday to my not so little nephew. So below is a picture from what must be early 1987. I was obviously scared with delicate Prince Adam on my shoulders as my hair is sticking up in shock though my fringe seems a bit more chilled out. One scary thing is that I can see how I look like my dad in this picture something strangely you just don’t see when you are younger.
This Sunday it was a trip to Clitheroe to start sorting out my late mum and dads house so it can be sold. Unlike my sister Clitheroe has many happy memories for me over the years (And some sad ones) with most the happy memories involving rather large drinking sessions, many a late stay behind and also even drinking in The Conservative Club. What I hear you say a fully paid up member of the Labour Party since the rise of Jeremy Corbyn. Well my soul is sold very quickly and it was the cheapest pint in Clitheroe and after buying a council house I can only call myself a plazzy socialist ha ha. So we went into the bedroom that was mine and even had a small Neil sign on the door. Truth is though I never lived there deciding instead as a near 19 year old in 1992 that Liverpool and my mates was a much better option than living with the parents in Clitheroe. In one way it was great and I had the time of my life in Liverpool, had a new style relationship with my parents changing from them telling me off and getting on my case to one of happiness and many visits up there having fun. Though in hindsight it was sad that my parents left not knowing that within 4 years my mum would be ill and then after that my dad as well. Though their guilt of leaving me in Liverpool they sponsored me well in beer tokens though I soon spent what was given to me. Anyway back to my bedroom and my two youngest daughters were helping me strip the walls and asking me questions about the room and Clitheroe. I must admit I was nearly reduced to tears several times and the old lip was wobbling as I explained to them about nana and gaga. Sadly Holly (4) and Charlotte (9) never got to see Nana Fay and Gaga fay only seen a few months of Holly. I was overwhelmed with what we had all missed out on as a family. Me missing parents and the relationship my kids and parents would have had. Even after 4 years since my dad died and 11 for my mum it still the thing that most hurts me about them not being here and seeing my kids grow up and how happy and proud they would have been and how good it would have been for my three daughters. I went for a walk around Clitheroe with my eldest and it was nice she had some memories of Clitheroe. Well me I was disgusted to see two pubs had been turned into shops. Oh well it was not meant to be for my mum and dad and soon (Hopefully) the house will be sold and the final link to Clitheroe broken. I will pop up there now and again if only to go to the cracking sausage shop “Cowmans sausage shop” and to bring back some happy memories as when my mum and dad moved there I was just a young man and now when the final link is broken I will be a 43 year old middle aged man with a middle aged spread and balding bonce to go with it.
So Lisbon on Friday with the lads and expect another “Cultural Review” in other words how many hotdogs were eat and how many pubs we went to. Expect that next week once I recover !
Fay x x x x x x x x
So the second half of the Iceland trip and this time it was up fairly early for a trip to The Blue Lagoon. No better way to shake of a 4am finish on the grog then to go to a lovely geo-thermal spa. The Blue Lagoon geothermal spa is one of the most visited attractions in Iceland. The spa is located in a lava field in Grindavík on the Reykjanes Peninsula, southwestern Iceland. The warm waters are rich in minerals like silica and sulfur and bathing in the Blue Lagoon is reputed to help some people suffering from skin diseases such as psoriasis. The water temperature in the bathing and swimming area of the lagoon averages 37–39 °C (99–102 °F). The Blue Lagoon also operates a research and development facility to help find cures for other skin ailments using the mineral-rich water. So on entering the lagoon you are given a swanky wrist band that pays for everything and we also went deluxe and paid extra for a towel and bathrobe. Lets face facts the old red Speedo’s were making their public debut and needed covering up most of the time. So I derobed myself and the normal outside temperature was about 10c and there was wall to wall glorious sunshine. Due to the thermal heat you I could quite easily stand in just my Speedo’s. So I entered the lagoon and it did look beautiful with steam rising off the top of the water and if anything the water was too warm for me and last nights grog started to sweat out of me. It was a lovely relaxing experience though I drew the line at getting the free face pack. I did however go to the bar in the pool but opted for a diet coke as I remembered the adverts “Don’t drink and Spa” Soon the heat and chilled atmosphere of the lagoon had me feeling very tired and I went for a lie down in just my robe and managed to get about an hours sleep ! The only downside for me is that the lagoon was man-made. I was expecting it to be a natural spring like feature but it is really just the waste geo thermal water from the power plant next door. We spent the whole day there and everybody was suitably relaxed and freshened up feeling a bit younger all apart from me who had developed early onset manflu. Only I could go to a get thermal spa and catch a cold. Obviously too much goodness going on for my pie arse body and immune system. It was a quiet night in and I was just about to go to bed when I checked out the back of the house and there were some feint northern lights on show. Me and James legged it down to the darker sea front about 5 mins away from out house and were treated to a spectacular display which I caught on my good camera. To think I might have gone to bed and missed that. We really had struck lucky with a third night out of three display of the lights.
So our final official full day was Wednesday and I took the chance to have a nice 5 mile walk out to a lighthouse on my own taking in the brisk Icelandic morning air and seeing some stunning natural beauty despite coughing and spluttering after my day of health before ! We spent the day on the traditional red open top tourist bus that most capital and big cities have. Though no open top due to the weather. We stopped of at an Icelandic shopping centre but such was the price of everything you couldn’t even begin to think about buying everything. I reckon Iceland’s pound land is about £5.86 per item. We seen the house where there was a summit on nuclear peace talks involving President Reagan and Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev. To top the bus trip off we seen an Iceland supermarket in Iceland !! That evening the lights were being dimmed in the city as a spectacular display of the northern lights was due. We finished off with some Icelandic fish and chips (Just chips for me) and had a few drinks then headed down to the sea to watch the northern lights so their stuff armed with a few cans picked up from our house on the way home. The lights appeared again (4 out of 4 nights) and though not as good as they were hyped up to be I managed to get a few snaps on my camera and we headed home to warm up and kill the last of the Viking beer we had in the fridge. Bowie hour was brought forward to 12.30am as we were feeling the pace. It genuinely is hard work being a piss head and a tourist ! (Click on an pics for a larger version)
So Thursday and home day. Thankfully we got the keep of the house on for free so had until 6pm to potter about. I decided to go on my solo walk in the morning this time taking in the sights of Reykjavik city centre and its beautiful architecture. I was on my way home and waling through a wooden tunnel that had been created for pedestrians as there was building work going on and no pavement. I heard an alright crash and men shouting. I looked up but couldn’t see anything but heard a collapsing noise. Fuck me was the building coming down ? I was ready to jump over the barrier into the road if things got worse. Just in the distance at the end f the walkway I could see people running away and more crashing. It then went calm and numerous men from an adjoining building site came running towards us. As I got out of the wooden section of walkway I could see that a giant crane had collapsed and come down just missing a hot dog stall and two young girls were in tears ( I later read they had to jump from the bench they were sitting on to miss the crane) Luckily nobody was injured but I call that a lucky escape just a bit earlier and I would have been coming out where the crane was collapsing and who knows what might have happened. In my life I have had six lives (Ask me when you see me for more details) and I class this as number 7. I am only 43 and have two lives of my nine spare. Jesus Christ ! I got back to the house and told them about my near miss and was laughing saying “How long would it have been before you all started moaning where has he gone we want to go out for the day and the inconsiderate bastard isn’t back form his walk” I would have been squashed under a fallen crane ! So the pic below I took later on when we all went down for a nose and I relived my seventh life. I was to come out the wooden tunnel on the left a few seconds after the crane had fallen. Scary shit la !
So me and Mrs Fay went up Hallgrímskirkja parish church in Reykjavík, Iceland. At 73 metres (244 ft), it is the largest church in Iceland and had breathtaking views though it was just a large concrete block and showing visible signs of wear and tear at the bottom. The church can be seen on the right of the picture below and view from one side of the top also below. We headed home and it was time to chill before our airport transfer and back home in Liverpool for about 2am. By now it was full on red alert manflu and I am still trying to shake it off over a week later. Never going a health spa in my life again ! So thanks to my sister for organising the trip and to the in laws for looking after the gang (3 kids, 2 dogs and 4 fish) Thats the passport packed away well until two weeks and a trip to Lisbon. All go eh !
For the record it was cracking house we stayed in with all mod cons and we believe the daughter of a famous Icelandic photographer/author Sigurgeir Sigurjonsson. Any boss fridge, cracking wifi and Apple TV. What more do you want ?
Fay x x x x x x x x
So last Sunday it was a 3am early start and a 4 night trip to Reykjavik in Iceland. I have always wanted to go to Iceland and nearly did for my 40th but it didn’t come off. The inner geography nerd in me would love it and if I had a bucket list then to see the Northern Lights would be on it and going to Iceland increases your chances. The excuse this time was the 18th birthday of my twin niece and nephew (Lily & James) and my older nephew’s 30th (Adam) Despite the 6am flight it was not going to put me off and I had a couple of Desperados in Manchester Airport. We had read into ale prices in Iceland so my sister purchased two large bottles of gin in case of emergency when we landed. The flight time was about 2 hours 20 and with our watches going back one hour we were in Reykjavik handy and the sun was shining and the strange feeling of instead of going on holiday and walking down the plane steps being hit by the heat it was a bitter northerly wind cutting through me. It was about a 45 min drive to our house in Iceland and we took in the bleak countryside which was just like when you drive over the moors on the M62. Building wise everything seemed square though this did change as we entered Reykjavik. Our house was a lovely town house with three floors and I avoided the basement bedroom as I knew my 6 foot 3 head would have had a fight with the roof at some point after a bevy. A quick visit to the local Neto to stock up on crisps and biscuits ! (The cheaper Bonus supermarket was closed) We then chilled out for a bit and then headed into Reykjavik city centre which was about a 10 min walk from our house. Reykjavik is the smallest and most northern capital on the planet and has a population of just 120,000 people. After a good walk around and finding the Hallgrímskirkja church which I would eventually go to the top of later on in the week. Enough of tourism it was time to venture into a bar. Beer was banned in Iceland until 1st March 1989. By the 1st of March 1989 I was already into Tennant’s Super and Thunderbirds (Not mixed !!) We had an app on our phone which pointed out the current pubs having happy hour as the prices where indeed not so happy outside these times. So we landed in the “Bravo Bar” where it was happy hour and it was about £5 for a large beer and we stayed for a few as it had a nice vibe about it. Lily & James where still 17 at this point but that was irrelevant as you had to be 20 to drink in Iceland but we had no problem. We took in some more bars at happy hour prices and even found a few Irish Pubs. We headed back home and after a 3am wake cup and an early afternoon start on the ale I hated to bed for 10am as it was up early for the twins birthday on the morning and then off on the first of our planned tours. There was crying cat outside the back door and we assumed it must be the owners cat so we give it something to eat. As if by magic we then had a nose in the back yard and up in the sky where the Northern Lights. Thank you very much cat. Some people never get to see the lights when visiting Iceland but we nailed it on night one.
7am and it was time to give Lily and James their presents before we headed off on out “Golden Circle” tour of Iceland. It was now time for peak geography nerd time. In the distance we could see a volcanic Island called Surtsey. Surtsey was formed in a volcanic eruption which began 130 metres (426 ft) below sea level, and reached the surface on 14 November 1963. The eruption lasted until 5 June 1967. Today only a few scientists are permitted to land on Surtsey as it is studied to see how nature develops from nothing. This was the bit I was always fascinated by as a kid and now here it was in the distance. We then stopped of at a small earthquake museum and for around £2 I got to experience a 6.6 on the Richter Scale earthquake in the dark. Lets just say it was a lot more powerful than I expected and now know how Mrs Fay feels when I jump in bed pissed at 1am in the morning. There was a bonus supermarket here and I was ready to stock up on munchies but it didn’t open until 11am so I missed the Bonus for a second time.
Next up where some beautiful waterfalls and again some amazing Geography which I wont bore you with but the scenery was breathtaking. Twas time for lunch soon and we took time out at a small complex which was by a geyser. Luckily the geyser went off about every 10 mins so we got to see a few spurts and it was Icelandic chips for lunch. Rounding off the golden circle was a trip to a rift valley. Geography nerd alert warning. A rift valley is a linear-shaped lowland between several highlands or mountain ranges created by the action of a geologic rift or fault. Today I was seeing the North American plate moving away from the Eurasian plate. Well not moving but the effect of many many years of this was clearly visible. The tour was over and the mini bus was trying its best not to fall asleep after a hard day walking as the man was telling us that in Iceland hell was cold as seeing it as warm would be a treat for them ! All God bollocks whatever the local climatic readings of your made up hell. In true scouse style we got our bus driver to drop us off at the offy AKA The Vinbuo. Not a Bargain Booze but a state run monopoly and the only gaff you can buy ale over 2.5% With strict opening times and still on the pricey side it was much cheaper then the pubs and I grabbed a few Desperados at about £3.50 a bottle. We headed out for a meal and again as if by magic the Northern lights appeared. Two nights out of two. We had a few drinks with our meal and then finding a pub with a dart board in and much to my disgust my nephew Adam beat me and my brother in law Jimmy was crowned first Icelandic darts champion. We headed home to drink out state bought booze and have an 18th birthday party with the last fuzzy memory being David Bowie hour at 4am in the morning ! A day of health at The Blue Lagoon planned for tomorrow but you will have to wait for part 2 and how I nearly died !
Some pics below, click on for a larger version.
Happy 18th Lily & James lots of love Uncle Knobhead
Fay x x x x x x x x