Written by Herr Riballs
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Tags: Diary, Pope, travel

Tuesday, 21 September 2010

Just got back from a four day trip with the lads to the United Kingdom.

It was a holiday from hell from start to finish.

The Flight:

We booked with Ryanair from Leonardo Da Vinci airport. We were attracted by the promise of low low fares. However, with taxes and other hidden extras it came to nearly £300.00 each. One or two of the boys offered to only take hand luggage on which brought the cost down a bit. But that's not the point. We feel we've been ripped off especially as we were stood up for the flight and opted for only one engine.

Things didn't improve ... I brought a flask of holy water with me but was told that would have to be confiscated or drunk before boarding the aircraft. Nowhere in the small print did it mention this. Apparently you are only permitted to carry 100 millilitres of liquid. I had 2 litres. I didn't have time to drink it or bless anyone with it so I had to leave it behind. Then they took my lighter off me. Luckily they didn't find the 6000 fags I'd bought in Duty Free. And they had a lighter sellotaped to the cartons so at least I'd be able to smoke them at the other end.

Anyway, we took off on time, which was good, and I had a nap. I was then roughly awoken by a stewardess who advised we were now entering British airspace and that I would have to remove all my Christian regalia including the crucifix round my neck. I asked why, me being the Holy Father and all that. She mumbled something about Britain being a Muslim state now and that my Christian symbols would cause offence. I was tired and didn't want to argue so changed into my Fred Perry t shirt and a pair of slacks.

Day 1 Scotland:

Deary me. What can I say about this place ? Words fail me. The air reeks of booze and drugs. Everyone appears drunk or off their heads on something. There's a pervading smell of chip fat and Mars bars fried in batter. I needed a smoke but was told i couldnt light up until i was 1000 metres clear of the terminal building and only then in designated smoking areas. Fellow smokers were huddled round bins in the pouring rain. One of the bins even had a cat in it. These people are savages.

Next, we collected our hire car; a big ugly thing with reinforced glass and the word 'Popemobile' down the side. Can you imagine our embarrassment ? The four of us crammed into that thing. It wasn't the Mercedes we'd ordered. It didn't even have a cigarette lighter in it. We left the airport and checked into our £29.00 a night Travelodge in Edinburgh. We dumped our bags then went on the piss as there didn't seem much else to do. We took advantage of the 2 for 1 booze offers, ended up in a mass brawl and finished the night off with a large doner and chips. I can honestly say that's the only bit of Scottish culture we experienced.

Day 2&3 London:

Christ Almighty! What a toilet. A Third World country but without the weather. Gangs of hooded youths wielding knives, nobody speaking English, people having sex on war memorials in broad daylight.

It went from bad to worse when a hoodie on a BMX snatched my Duty Free. So I ended up paying 6 quid a pack. And there's only 16 in a pack, not twenty. Then some street cleaners were arrested for plotting to blow me up. Shit!!

What a Godless place. The arsehole of the world.

Day 4 Birmingham:

Jesus! It gets worse. Absolutely nothing to do here. Just appears to be a place where all the motorways meet and people pass through to go to somewhere better. Saw a comedian called Jasper Carrott. Not funny. Even the Pebble Mill at One set was disappointing. It closed down 10 years ago and is now a Wacky Warehouse.

Home Sweet Home:

Boy, am i glad to be back in Italy. Still, it could have been worse I suppose. We could've gone to Liverpool.

I can't think of one single thing that's good about the UK although I applaud the rise in child obesity rates in the war against child abuse.

No priest I know wants to sleep with a fat kid.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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