Paying to Chunder

Appa



I can't imagine how people created their own holidays before the internet came along. I have spent a large part of my weekend with the computer mouse in one hand and a piece of plastic in the other as I surfed the net following up suggestions for activities in New Zealand courtesy of my Lonely Planet guide.

At the risk of making you jealous I'll splurge out the list quickly - swimming with dolphins sea kayaking and vineyard tour whale watching white water rafting glacier walking fjord cruising river boarding puking.

Okay, maybe puking isn't an adventure sport but if you look at those activities you may notice that an awful lot of them involve being on water. And if that's not enough then I have decided to literally take the plunge and set out on a big catamaran thing in Adelaide and offer myself as shark bait. Plus, at the last count I am undertaking 9 separate voyages by air of between 40 minutes and 20 hours duration. Oh yes, and there's the ferry from North Island to South Island.

For someone with my legendary spewing ability that could amount to an awful lot of vomit.

As some of you may know I chunder for Yorkshire and almost got into the England team. My personal best followed an ill fated trip to Alton Towers where after only one ride I was wildly sick. The Guinness Book of Records said I was just one carrot short of the national record.

If you read about my paragliding trip in Turkey then you will know that my credentials extend to international spewing. Although for sustained puking over distance we have to look to South Africa.

On that occasion the kids and I had travelled to Jo'berg and then picked up a plane to cross to the east coast to a small airport near Knysna. All was well with the world until 2 things happened. The world below appeared to be engulfed in flame and strong winds meant heavy turbulence. Round and round the plane went. Up and down. I soon got through two sick bags. Eventually the flames (a forest fire) and wind were deemed to make it too dangerous to land and we diverted south to Cape Town.

There's nothing like 5 hours in an airport arrivals lounge to make you feel better I always think. And so it was that I began to feel human again and my stomach stopped churning.

It became apparent though that in order to reach our intended destination we would be travelling via a courtesy coach and what had been a short hop in the plane would be a gruelling 8 hours by road.

Luckily there was a small jet going our way and due to some law of aero-physics that I don't understand it was deemed suitable to land in conditions that would destroy its bigger cousins. Naturally I did what any man would do in such a situation - I played the poor-single-parent-me-with-these-fragile-kids card, even though by this time my youngest was a strapping 12 year old. I think I may even have squeezed out a tear for effect too.

However appalling my tactics, they had the desired effect and I blagged the last seats on the tiny jet. An hour later and we were back in the skies with whoops of 'Enjoy your coach ride suckers!'

Roughly 10 minutes after that we were back in the turbulence and my joy at escape was replaced with the horror of being plunged back into the Technicolor yawn zone. Luckily I had had the foresight to refill my stomach with sundry junk foods at Cape Town so I was soon able to fill up another 2 bags.

Much as I have enjoyed representing my county at the carrot and tomato spraying championships I feel it is time I retired. With this in mind I have been out this morning and secured large quantities of my secret weapon - Ginger. So far I have got ginger capsules, ginger gummy bears and ginger chews in the fervent belief that this might just stave off the inevitable for long enough for me to actually enjoy some of the expensive water based activities I have paid for. I'm taking boxes and boxes of sea-sickness pills too, I'm not that stupid. At least if the sharks eat me I'll be well sautéed in ginger.

I'm organising a sweepstake on the number of times I throw up. It's only a pound a ticket if anyone wants in.

Before I go to search for more homeopathic nausea remedies (there's ginger chewing gum out there somewhere but I can't find a retailer in the UK) may I refer you to the picture above. This is Appa in his new school jumper. And jolly happy and handsome he looks too. In case you don't know, Appa is a boy I met in an orphanage in Uganda. Thank you to Crystal for the photo.

Live long and proper.