Our holiday in Ibiza was winding up. It had been a fabulous couple of weeks and now there was only a day or two left.
Have you seen the smugglers caves?
Asked Mad Sherrie the night before the day before the morning we were due to travel home.
Smugglers caves old fellow? Fo' real?
I sipped on my fake brandy and pretended to be Jay Z albeit without a giant arsed wife.
Yeah, just up the cliff path. You should definitely go. The kids will love it.
Mad Sherrie nodded sagely as if my kids were not technology addicted savages that only lived to binge watch shows on Netflix.
Hmm, sounds like a plan for the last day!
I necked my Frandy and threw a peanut at the barman to rack me up another. Which sounds rude but I had given him a fiver tip earlier on in the week so I patently owned him.
The next day dawned bright and warm. I marshalled the family together and we set off up the cliff path to the smugglers cave.
After much climbing we were very high and could see our little resort below.
The kids began the usual are we there yet nonsense.
Surely we were? We had been walking for half an hour.
But no, just as we got to the very top...
The path went downward...
And round.
And down...
And more down!? What was this, Jules Verne and the fucking Journey to the Center of the Earth!?
Then a corner. By now we were almost at sea level and my legs were starting to wish I had swam out to the bastarding caves.
And lo, we reached the entrance. Oddly enough there was a fucking queue?
I eyed the buggers in front of me suspiciously, was there a short cut?
We went in.
The caves were very yellow and narrow.
I was beginning to feel a little underwhelmed until we arrived at the buttplug stalagmite.
I knew then we were on to a winner.
Then there were more.
It started to get a little wet
The cause was soon clear, a gigantic vaginosaurus lurked behind a crevice.
There was a bit of a light show at the vaginosaurus crevice.
It started to get a little hot and sweaty so we moved on to the bone wall.
This held the kids attention for seven seconds so again, we marched on.
To the LIME POOLS!!!
Which were accompanied by dramatic music and lights.
And that was it.
We climbed a long winding path and eventually came to the exit.
Some hours later, at the bar, Mad Sherrie accosted me.
Did you go to the caves? Fucking amazing aren't they?
He beamed happily at me.
I looked at him flatly.
Naw, they were fucking rubbish. I would have had more fun wiping my arse after a shit.
Mad Sherrie blinked in astonishment.
Oh. Oh well. Do you want a fake brandy?
He waved at the barman.
I sighed.
Oh, alright then.
