All Guts, No Glory Vol. IV

A Summer Special

Lads holidays, they're a thing of legend. Months of planning and saving to head somewhere hot and spend it all on booze. I'd missed out on the whole 'gap year travelling' thing and hadn't really done the big Ibiza lads thing either so when my brother and a few work mates decided we should get together and head off for a week, I was well up for it. We had a few issues with people dropping out and ended up having to introduce an honorary lad into the mix in the form of co-worker, Lilly. We decided to head to Magaluf, Majorca and stay in the Majorca Rocks Hotel. A self-serve hotel of debauchery and carnage. In-house parties with artists like Sigma and John Newman, pool parties with over 200 people and bars serving all day and night; it was epic.

We arrived at Bristol airport early in the morning, 'Magaluf '14'

T-shirts on and already hyped to get there.

We set about with the obligatory pint in the pub upstairs before boarding the flight. The banter had been flying all morning, Pricey and Jack being the main recipients of any abuse being thrown about.

We got on the flight, found our seats and settled in for the flight ahead. There happened to be three girls on our flight sat next to some of the guys. A couple of the lads had set their sights early on and were joking around but not actually having the courage to speak to them at this point. After an uneventful flight, we touched down and got on the coach to our hotel, the girls happened to be on our coach too. This wasn't unheard of as the coach serviced a number of hotels in the area. We arrived at our hotel, however and they were in front of us, we looked like we were stalking them. The hotel looked exciting, neons logos and reps everywhere all presumably on their gap year, earning some money before heading back to the real world of adulting that inevitably awaited them at home. We got our room keys and settled in, a couple of the guys having a nap to recover from the fact we hadn't actually slept the night before, the rest of us hitting the pool and bars. This week was insane. Possibly the most insane week I've ever had. The first proper day was known as The Induction. If you survived this, you could survive anything! I don't condone excessive drinking but I don't preach either because I'm definitely guilty of having a binge or two in my life. Our first day consisted of a booze cruise in the afternoon, followed by a bar crawl early evening and then seeing Tinie Tempah live at the super-club, BCM which was a free bar provided you bought a wrist band and stayed open until 6am. I don't remember getting off the boat... I made it through to the end of the night though apparently, despite us not seeing Tinie Tempah due to the person holding our tickets deciding to go on a wander.

While out there we made some friends, because we're friendly like that. We actually got chatting to the girls from the plane and discovered they were from Bristol and we spent a fair bit of time just chilling with them the rest of the week and we remain in contact still. We also met a group of Irish girls the first night we were out.

This is a beautiful story by the way. One of the lads, Jack, was quite taken by one of the lasses, Kayla. They hit it off and spent the night doing what you'd expect on an alcohol fuelled holiday. It was just a shame I shared a room with Jack at the time. There are some things in life you just can't unsee or unhear...

They were inseparable though, this wasn't just a one night stand and it seemed that Jack, previously a man who could go out seven days in a row and wake up in the morning with a different girl each time, had been punched in the heart by Cupid.

Surely this couldn't work though, he was from Swindon and she from Limerick. It was a fleeting romance that could never last. It came to the time for the Irish girls to go home as they'd arrived before us and it was clearly emotional for them. We had barely seen Jack all week during the day, the nights were a different matter. However, at the time of writing this, I can proudly say they're still together! Who says you can't find love on a Lad's holiday?

We'd also met a group of ten Scottish girls and their friend Daniel. A great bunch, all there for a good time and a good laugh. It was nice to meet some genuinely friendly people who were complete strangers at the beginning of the week and at the end, genuine friends. I stay in touch with a couple of them and we chat often. We had some great nights and some very chilled days. We even all went skinny dipping one night, a first for me but something hilarious and somewhat liberating. I highly recommend it at least once in your life.

Tattoos are for life, not just for bets.

So at the end of the week, Pricey had decided it would be a great idea to place a bet with Jack. Something that those of us who knew Jack also knew would be a bad idea, the guy has no limit or lines he won't cross. The bet was set and the rules were laid out by the rest of us also as to make sure it was fair and punishments would be carried out. The deal was, whoever lost had to get a tattoo. The design would be our choice as collective neutrals and the location would be the choice of the recipient so as to allow some form of dignity.

Story short, Pricey lost. It was always gunna happen to be fair but you make your bed, you lie in it. We went out for Chinese food before heading to the tattoo parlour to see out the punishment. While eating, we discussed ideas for designs. One involved a date of birth, girls name and weight implying he had a baby girl... another was just a list of obscenities. The final decision though was one of pure evil genius. He would have the phrase 'Property of Jack Gray' tattooed on him.

He accepted, (idiot), and he chose the location to be his ass cheek, the most sensible place to have ownership stamped I guess. We got to the tattoo parlour and Jack decided he would write the tattoo himself for the artist to trace. He even signed his name. Technically, in a country where slavery is still present, I'm pretty sure Jack could sell Pricey to the highest bidder...

While there, I decided to get my first tattoo as well. Yes, I was suffering from 6 days of heavy drinking but I wasn't drunk at this time and the design I got was something I found hilarious and I'm proud to say it still makes me chuckle to this day.

The Welsh are crazy.

One day, we were chilling in our apartment when we started hearing some yelling from a few floors above us. We came out onto our balcony to see what was going on only to be greeted by a hairy arse hanging over the stairwell above us. Attached to said arse was a particularly hammered and loud Welshman by the name of Smithy. We know this because he spotted us gawping up at him and invited us up. Naturally Jack bounded up the stairs to see who this nutter was because they seemed to share the same abnormalities in mental capacity. We followed because it seemed hilarious. We were greeted by a guy that seemed to be a Welsh Dan Bilzarian. He greeted us with hugs and we got chatting. He regaled stories of how his mate, who was currently passed out on the hallway floor outside their apartment which they had found themselves locked out of, had spent all the money saved for him and his girlfriend's honeymoon in just 24 hours... and how he'd passed out one day only to wake up discovering his mates had injected syringes filled with absinthe into the aforementioned arsehole which he was so proudly parading to the entire complex. He was clearly blowing off some steam out here. He then blurted out that he was dying for the toilet. Jack, somewhat smitten with this guy and looking at him the way a child would upon meeting his hero, declared it was fine for him to use our toilet downstairs. He ran downstairs, shouting at the top of his lungs "Scenes! CRAZY FUCKIN' SCENES!" We were in fits of hysterics, this guy was as mad as a box of frogs.

We got back to our apartment to find Pip was already in the loo.

The door didn't have a lock on it, presumably because someone had passed out in a pool of their own vomit and died in one previously so the hotel took them all off to prevent this from happening again. The same way that they had to specifically warn us about not room hopping via balconies...

Anyway, Pip being on the toilet didn't seem to perturb Smithy from running into the bathroom, stripping off and jumping in the shower. All we heard was "Guuuuys? Who the fuck is thiiis?" As we all piled into the bathroom. Jack decided to join him in the shower as did Dan and Pricey. They then pulled Pip in with them after he'd flushed the loo. I then took my seat upon the throne as Lilly popped her head in and took a photo. This photo appeared on social media for all of 20 minutes before it was promptly taken down. I am trying to source the original, don't worry.

Like I said, the guy was a head-case.

After the weird and very surreal shower scene was over, Smithy discovered his room key was in his pocket. He bid us farewell, thanked us for our hospitality and left. Shouting his "Scenes!" cant over and over as he climbed the stairs to his unconscious friend, still asleep in the hallway. This was all at about 12 in the afternoon.

Who needs friends?

Now, onto the main event. We had an onsite shop to get provisions, like more alcohol, pot noodles and crisps to keep us going. Myself, Dan and my brother, Pip headed off to get supplies one afternoon. To get to the shop we had to traverse the main centre of the hotel where the outdoor pool area was situated and through the main building, past reception. We got everything we needed and the boys went through the checkout while I pursued the different flavours of absinthe on offer. While wandering the aisle, I let off a fart. Never trust a fart with gastric problems. It's like playing Russian Roulette with your bum. I lost this round. I stopped. Stared at the lads. Dan looked at me and instantly just said "Oh no", "What?" Pip queried. Dan pointed at me. "I farted. But it wasn't a fart" I responded. We were in such a giddy, excited and slightly constantly drunk state, they instantly started laughing. Loudly. Like, howling. Instead of dropping my shopping and getting to the nearest loo though, I proceeded to buy my goods, bag them up then head back to the room. They both found this hilarious. I was wearing swim shorts at the time, which was somewhat of a blessing as the inner netting had acted like a safety barrier and protected the floor from my alcoholic payload. I waddled back through reception and past the pool to the rooms where I could get myself sorted. This would've been painless had I not been paraded through the hotel by the two jokers who accompanied me. Declaring to everyone they saw, "He's shit in his swim shorts!" Followed by fits of hysterics. I found it funny myself however. It's hard to walk in flip flops with poo in your swim shorts and not look obviously awkward.

The rest of the week was incident free for myself. I won't go into too much detail as you know, what happens on a lads holiday, stays on a lads holiday. Except the above. They're out their forever now. I hope you enjoyed.

Special thanks to Nick, who got spiked one night, had a selfie with a guy in a gay bar but doesn't remember anything from that night.

To Dan for being the shoulders I could sit on so I could watch Example live at BCM and wave a glow stick like it was 1999.

To Jack for showing all of us his penis way too many times, vomiting over the balcony while the ENTIRE hotel block chanted "Jack's a fucking wanker, la la la la, hey!" over and over and even high-fiving me during sex... thanks.

To Andy for being there and being sensible but such a great laugh and even stepping out of his comfort zone and getting his top off in public, proud of you pal. Also, the foam covered Honey Monster look was great!

For Pricey who disappeared one night for us to search for him and for him turn up in the morning on the balcony with a bucket of KFC saying he fell asleep on the beach and allowed us to pay for him to have a legally binding tattoo of ownership.

To Lilly for being an honorary lad and putting up with poo talk, farts, too much cock and general lad banter.

To Pip for being a hero on the booze cruise... and being an awesome laugh throughout the week despite disappearing in the middle of the busy strip to have his club stamp redone but not telling us.