Finished the previous post, bounced over to The Guardian, I saw Volcano in Iceland has left us trapped in Tenerife

“What’s this then?”   Click!

Gill Hornby writes about her holiday in Tenerife, a volcanic island, has turned into a nightmare because what a gwan in Iceland.

Read, read, read.

Our quick dash to “paradise” lost its charm when the ash cloud lost its funny side – about teatime on Thursday.

We’d started packing first thing, with the usual vague sense of apprehension. Four young children, easyJet, too many bags, a sister-in-law with a hernia: what could possibly go wrong? The list was lengthy, and yet Iceland volcano, and ash cloud were not even on it. How naive we all were.

Since then, the resort has changed its identity. No longer guests, we are captives. We’re bored of chips – imagine! – and Sky News, and sun.

Eh?
‘sick of chips’

She’s here, on holiday from England, and she’s staying in a hotel that serves what she eats everyday at home.

Now she’s sick of them.
Serves you bloody right, typical English busman’s holiday type.
Bet your first meal when you finally get home will be paella!

Reminded me of the guy seated behind me on the flight here to Tenerife, when I moved here.  It was a British Airways flight, and they served breakfast meal that included cheese with apricots in it.  Upon receiving his tray, he looked at the cheese, then raised his head and his voice said, “Ain’t there no fucking English cheddar on this plane?”  Why don’t you get off this motherfucker right now, and shut the door on your way out.  Man is barely out of English airspace and he’s balling for his typical chow down material.

Stay home.

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