Food Poison

My ass isn’t going to last me my lifetime. A group of us went to the Causerie at the Europa Hotel in Belfast for lunch before going to See Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs at the Grand Opera House. The meal was overpriced for what we had. The kids had chicken gougons and chips that had to have been recooked at least three times beforehand. No garnish! They had to beg for ketchup. Myra enjoyed her Thai chicken curry although there wasn't enough. Kelly wished she’d had a kebab in the train station because her rib eye steak was smaller than her eye never mind a rib. The Cream was off in our puddings. Kelly is rather noticeably pregnant so one would expect a bit more care from a top hotel. The kids didn’t eat their chocolate brownies because there were nuts in them. What if one of them was allergic? No warning anywhere. I told the waiter the cream in our pudding was off. I had to stand for ages while they farted about with the till so I could pay. Although the waiter agreed he had tasted the cream and it was vile we didn’t get a discount. I have spent over a week on the loo barfing into a bucket. It’s terrible sore when both ends are going at once. I made a complaint on the Hastings Hotel web site but have yet to get a reply. The only noise I hear is my inside rumbling and grumbling. Even the dog doesn’t growl and howl as bad as this. While I am in this state he is giving me space for obvious reasons. The long suffering husband is in toxic shock. If he and the Rock had a holiday home they would be away to the hills. I am still not well. I want to barf now but I’m trying not to. I’ve visited the loo four times while writing this. Tiger says too much information! And what if I boke on the ‘puter and he has to buy me another one? I barfed in my peanuts because I couldn’t get up quick enough to get to the bathroom. I am not making this up.  

I stayed in the Europa just after it was bombed for the last time in the 90’s. The dining room had taken the worst of it and we got breakfast in bed. It’s funny how things change. Except it’s not always for the best!  The place was in bits back then but they did us proud. My best advice is to go to the Monaco off High Street or anywhere else for that matter.

I would have gone to see the doc but it now takes a week to be seen and there are not enough amenities between here and there. A&E only rush you in if you are having a heart attack and they can have fun with the electric paddle’s. It reminds we of an experience in Turkey. I knew where all the toilets were in Kusadasi and how many paces they were from each other.  

I am going to the hardware store where you can get a bung and a new bucket for less than a fiver. The husband just made me Bovril with a drop of Port in it to see if it settles my stomach. He is the kindest most caring person I have ever met. After that he says he’s leaving home and going back to live with his mum. There is only so much a man can take and a barfing, farting, groaning, moaning, shating wife isn’t one of them. It would have been okay if I weren’t doing it all at the same time.