Boys' Weekend Away

The Giant's Causeway, Northern Ireland

The biggest room in the World is the room for improvement.

Japanese proverb.

On Friday I will embark on what has become known as 'The boys' weekend away.' An annual event where my good friend Peter is granted permission by his wife to share my company for a few days and enjoy eating, drinking, walking and sight seeing.

In writing the above I have to admit that I am a little bit ashamed of myself because I couldn't resist doing what I always do when Peter and I go away together - emphasising the fact that he is a married man and by inference that we are two heterosexuals and very secure in our sexuality, thank you very much. If it wasn't for the fact that I am the father of three children is plastered on the front page of this blog, then I would have undoubtedly thrown that in for good measure too.

You see, despite Peter and I both being strapping chaps, about six feet three inches tall, I am convinced that we look like a gay couple and I have this disgusting urge to tell anyone within earshot that we are not. I guarantee that within 10 minutes of Peter and I sitting down for breakfast at the B and B on Saturday morning I will have mentioned his wife and our collective five children as loudly as possible. I apologise in advance.

I think it all goes back to our first weekend away together. I had won tickets for two to Paris on Eurostar and invited Peter to accompany me. We had a very nice afternoon in Paris and decided to find somewhere to stay just off the Place de la Concorde. We found a small hotel and in my school boy French I inquired of the hotel keeper if we could have a twin room. 'Mais non!' was the answer. Deux single rooms , oui, but you are not sharing une chambre. Even in translation there seemed to be a clear inference. My manhood was challenged and paranoia set in.

Since then I have shared many a twin room with Peter and I am sure that everyone accepts us for who we are - two good friends enjoying a few days away from home. And even if they don't who cares? Well, me apparently. Sorry.

On this particular weekend we are venturing to Northern Ireland. For some time now Peter has been banging on about how much he'd like to see the Giant's Causeway, so we have decided that this will be the focal point of our trip.

As this week has worn on I have become very excited about it. Partially this is due to the fact that a plane journey is involved, so there the feel of a real holiday about the whole thing. Mainly though it is because I love Ireland so much. As the saying goes - God invented time, and then gave Ireland more of it. It's a really special place.

Of course it's not just the place, it's the people. The Guinness helps too.

I've packed my walking boots but the forecast isn't good for the weekend. I don't care. I just love being in Ireland. It's gentle, restful ways seep into my spirit. I've packed a couple of books too, just in case we have to sit in a pub, sheltering from the rain for a prolonged period.

Peter doesn't know it yet but this weekend will involve a degree of planning for next year's trip, which, if I get my way, will be our most spectacular one yet. Some time ago Peter said he had long yearned to visit New Zealand, but his wife doesn't fancy such a long haul journey. One for us when I retire maybe, he said.

That time is almost upon me (50 days left) so it's time to make the dream a reality.

Should you too be making your way along the beautiful highways and by-ways of New Zealand in early 2010 and spot two large, but slightly effeminate-looking blokes sat by a camper van whilst one of them proclaims loudly that he is the father of three children, then please stop by and say hello.

Live long and prosper.