It was our first lads holiday. We were 18 and the year was 2000 and all we wanted to do was drink. Drugs weren't invented in Ireland yet so life was simpler. Kos , the small island off Greece was our destination because the flights were cheap. More money for drink. The first port of call was finding our accommodation. It was as basic as the first world would allow but on the bright side you could not really break anything.
So once the bags were dropped it was time to find the local watering hole. Usually Irish people like to go on holiday and search for Irish pubs for some reason. When we get there , there is always a charming token Irish person who knows somebodies cousin. Once the chain is confirmed then we would usually spend the rest of the holiday in that Irish pub. It is the golden rule. When on holidays go to the place that is most like home. Anyway the first journey from the hotel to the pub is always an important one. Some Irish cut a hole in the pocket of their shorts and leave pebbles drop as a guide so they can learn their way back. The shorter the journey the better. Now on this occasion the shortest route between our flat and the pub was through this little green area with a playground. It was more of a square with high railings around the perimeter. You see them in Europe quite a bit especially the likes of London where people go to eat a sandwich on their break. Let's call it a miniature park. We would walk in one gate, walk through the park to save us having to go around the square which would take a minute longer. After you left the park it was a solid two minute walk to the Irish pub. Sit down. 14 hours later, pub closes and you crawl back home.
So after a couple of days we had the route down to a fine art. On one occasion myself and my friend Flood started talking to the barman Vassilis in the hotel and he started pouring us shots of the finest Greek spirit. Ouzo. Kinda like liquid liquorice. I'm a fiend for liquorice so I was enjoying these shots immensely. The others decided to head to the Irish pub. Myself and Flood waved them on. We were too comfortable with Vassilis serving us this delicious substance.
"Let those Irish philistines go to their Irish pub". Myself and Flood are immersing ourselves in the culture of this great country. "Another Ouzo Vassilis.....".
4 hours later........
Vassilis ran out of Ouzo and the lads were ringing asking of our whereabouts. It was now 8pm and it was time to go. We helped each other walk to the entrance of the park falling in the gate and then falling back to close the gate. We started walking towards the exit but Flood spotted a gecko so we stumbled off track. But once we went a bit wayward we could not for the life of us find the exit again.
The park became the bermuda triangle of our drunken little Irish adventure. We could not find the exit. The railings around the park were round 12 foot high so the park became a sort of prison. We sidefooted around the perimeter like a baby would walk in his cot. If anyone saw us , they would think we were insane in the membrane.
"Let's just go back to the entrance and walk around." Flood said. Good Idea. We made our way back to the entrance and again we could not find our way out. It was like a mini Blair Witch project.
2 hours later.....
The effects of the Ouzo was getting worse. It creeps up on you that stuff. After 20 laps of the park Flood decided enough was enough and started to scale the railings. The top of the railings had the pointy spikes on top to stop hooligans accessing the park.
"Dam those hooligans" shouted Flood as he reached the top to throw one leg over toleave his genitals in quite the predicament.
One false move and he was a Johnny One Ball. A label that you would have been stuck with for the rest of his life. There's a Johnny One Ball in every town in Ireland and they always struggle to get married. Quite the stigma in Ireland to have only one working testicle for some reason. Juggling one ball is alot less fun.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins. We needed to get out of this park. It was getting dark. I jumped up and managed to reach the top of the railing. I threw my leg over so we were both sitting on the top. Face to face. I rested my testicles down through a dip in the pointy bits for a much needed rest although that left my rectum exposed to the spike. Better than Johnny One Ball. I think Flood was doing the same.
"This fucking park" said Flood. "Someone must have locked the gates just as we went in." We were both covered in sweat from the 38 degree heat and our 2 hour walk around the railings of the park. While we were still sitting at the top ready to make our jump, we both saw a little girl and her mother walking towards us. She was skipping happily along. They didn't see us as we were up quite high. The little girl then opened the gate right underneath us. While she opened the gate, it swung and we swung with it looking down at the little girl and her mother. The mother realised that there were two shadows above them and looked up. "Kaló apógevma" said Flood which was "Good evening" in Greek. Vassilis had thought him a couple of words to impress the native women no doubt.
The mother just shook her head in despise as we looked down on them over the gate. In a panic that the woman would call the police , we both jumped at the same time. I made it down in one piece. Things did not go so swimmingly for poor Flood. Bootcut jeans were all the rage back then and when he jumped, a leg of his bootcuts got tangled in the top spike so it yanked him back while he was in full flight and he smashed his face into the railings. He dangled upside down with his jeans caught in a spike like he was in an elaboret trap.
"I'm fucking stuck" cried Flood as blood dripped onto the ground from a bloody nose after impact.
"I'm still in danger"
"Reach up there and lift my jeans off that spike."
I jumped back up on the railing but the weight of Flood was too much.
"You are gonna have to lose your jeans Flood".
"They're me bootcuts," he retorted.
"Only way," I said.
Flood unfastened his belt buckle and opened his button to continue his fall to the ground. He landed on his neck with a thud. I grabbed his jeans and he put them back on.
"Let's never talk of this again", Flood said as we continued to the pub.
When we reached our friends they asked us where we were while one of them tended to Floods bloody nose and the bumps on his head.
"What the fuck happened to you?" asked our friend Anthony.
"I was jumped by two Greek lads" replied Flood.
"I'm fine, I got a few digs in myself"
"Look at the state of the two of yee" "Ye couldn't bate eggs with state of you are in. Someone needs to bring these two home"
And with that we were escorted back through the dreaded park and into our beds. We swore never to speak of the park again. The rest of the holidays involved myself and Flood walking around the square while the lads walked through it.
"This must of been where they attacked Flood."
"Has his nose healed up?"
"No he broke it. The doctors will have to reset it when he gets home"