As we take a trip down memory lane at the Beacon Island Hotel [permalink]
I'm never driving to Plett again. A couple of weeks back we went by plane (40 minutes - give me a break) to George and hired a car for a four night stay at The Beacon Island Hotel in Plett, to attend the wedding of Mr and Mrs. Crazy Eyes. Flying is the answer. It actually works out cheaper. Split the rental car between the boys. Think about speeding fines, petrol etc. Oh and don't forget to take into account pad-kos as well. It adds up, guys.
The wedding was an explosion of excitement and one that will not be forgotten for quite some time. Thanks, guys.
But that's another story altogether...
The B.I. - PLETT
Nostalgia City
I was treated to a walk down memory lane as we wreaked havoc in the hotel for four days. In terms of room service, I am happy to report that the chicken mayo saamies are still top notch; best washed down with a double-thick choc or strawberry milkshake. And a chicken burger. And two Cokes. And a Fanta. And Tabasco. And vinegar. Make it two Fantas.
God it was fun. Memories of multiple annual timesharing visits as a child (only child) came flooding back. They still had those lists of the day's events next to the lifts.
10h30 Kids Mania! (Meet in the foyer)
12h00 - Bingo at the pool (Clickety-fucking-click SIXTY-SIX!)
14h00 - Egg throwing on the terrace lawn
and so it goes on.....
18h30 - Cocktails in the Sea Lounge - Meet the hotel staff and management
We weren't able to make it to bingo that day but, having a pool facing room, we were lucky enough to be able to scream FUCKING BINGO! out the window from time to time - thus having the best-time-ever without actually walking outside.
We even managed to catch (unintended) some egg-throwing action right below us. Some of these kids were soooo shit. GOD it was infuriating. They're like so fucking unco! Watch this video and keep your eye on the little prick in the middle at the top of the screen. Blue shorts, no shirt.
Christ. WHAT a revolting child!
You fucking thick IDIOT!
GOD!
And so it went on.
We blurred around town from The Deck to Cornuti's (hour-and-a-half it took for those fucking pizzas) and back to the hotel again. (We did this once in four days)
They don't have video games downstairs anymore.
That was a big disappointment. In fact I haven't quite stopped and thought more about this. I mean, what's your fucking problem? Why no video games? That's SO childish! I wanted to get like a hundred tokens and clock all the games.
There was a reduced quota of angels at the hotel, with the only eligible contender being the hotel's nanny. She's the one who plays with all the kids during Kids Mania hour. Little slut.
The dream couldn't carry on forever though. We had to come out of the haze. It was time to go home. We went for the Toyota Corolla Verso from Avis. That's quite some car. I'm not sure what the fuck they're trying to do with that model but it's a fucking conundrum to me. The Outside Centre got the same model of car from the airport (having realised that making us wait two hours for His Royal Highness to land was pushing it a bit) and agreed that the car confused the crap out of him. It's SUCH a crap car. It's like sooo long. And the dashboard is like so fucking huge and long. There are two armrests on the door side - one is too high and one is too low. Very bizarre!
There was a bonsella at the very end when we noticed that Avis had left a cooler box in the boot from the previous rental. Possession is nine-tenths so we held a quick competition. All the bell-boys (racist?) and door staff had to guess what kind of fish I was thinking of.
