I do have to apologise. It’s been a while since I’ve updated my bloggy blog but moving to the other side of the world is slightly stressful and somewhat time consuming. Now that I’m a bit more settled I’ll have more time to write more regularly. But the journey to this point has been quite interesting and one for another blog…
Now… where were we? Oh yes, just hopped of the ferry in Ios, drunk, ready to party. The buzz was killed slightly though as the group of us staying at the Far Out Beach club were waiting in the sweltering sun for our shuttle bus four about an hour. For those of you who know me, I’m white. Like white white. Solar panel white. Strap me to a roof and I could power your house and heat your rain water. So by the time I arrived at Far Out I was in a hallucinogenic state somewhere between intoxication and sun stroke.
The remedy? Tequila!
The scene was pretty mental. The Far Out Beach Club is pure hedonism anyway but at about 4pm each day a wild pool party breaks out and here I was smack bang in the middle of it. It wasn’t long before I realised I was the only gay in the village and there was no chance in hell of picking up that night. Awkward!
The remedy? Tequila!
The next thing I knew I woke up naked in my bungalow with the light still on and a bottle of vodka next to my bed. Surprisingly I felt quite fresh and decided to spend the day by the pool reading (read: perving on hot Euro boys in their Speedos).
That afternoon after eating my weight in Gyros I was enjoying a quiet Long Island Ice Tea by the pool when two girls came up to me:
Them: Were you on an Etihad flight on the 5th of July to Abu Dhabi?
Them: “We were in the same row as you, we’re the girls who went to the wedding in Santorini
Me: No way! I met Ashleigh the hairdresser who did the bride’s hair in Dubrovnik with her friend Danielle!
(The girls from the boat cruise in Part One!)
Such a small world, but I love when things like this happen while travelling so I spent the rest of my time in Ios with the guys doing what one does in Ios: shots! Shot and more shots. I’ve also not done so many beer bongs in my life, but when the successful completion of one ensures your next drinks are free you can’t bet on the fact that I’m deep throating that thing and taking it for every last drop.
The next stop was Santorini which was beautiful but largely uneventful. Met some cool Aussie and Canadian girls, went on a boat, climbed a volcano, swam in the hot springs, was sexually harassed by a mule as it charged up some stairs with my on its back and watched the sunset. Saw some more beautiful scenery, ate more Gyros and saw another sunset. As I said, beautiful but uneventful so we can skip forward to my next port: Mykonos.
Mykonos – sunny, windy and finally some gays! Finally it was worth having wifi, my Grindr was finally getting some decent action. Like a new puppy in the neighbourhood. All the dogs were lining up to give it a good sniff. I generally consider myself to be a non-NSA sort of guy but holidays are all about relaxing and so why not relax the rules slightly at the same time?
So vodka fuelled and sun-skinned, I was ready to hit up Jackie-O’s and was prepared to stay until the wee hours of the morning. Well that didn’t work out quite the way I had planned and I spent most of the next morning trying to get rid of a big problem: a major case of the clinger. Don’t get me wrong, I like snuggling. But after a couple of hours I was laying there staring at the ceiling thinking to myself, “really? Is this what we’re doing? All day? Ummm… I want a sandwich.”
After I got rid of it, I spent the day listening to DJ Grind while checking out the talent at Paradise Beach. European men really like wearing Speedos. Unlike the Brits and most Aussie men, they have no qualms letting it all hang out – warts and all for some of them! Luckily I was in Mykonos and the majority of them were quite buff and well worth the perv. Thank God for tinted sunglasses.
That night I ventured up the steep ass hill to Elysium (a gay boutique hotel and bar) to watch the sunset which was beautiful. The place was full of older, perfectly preened and rich gays. There I was already half pissed and looking a nice shade of lobster after spending most of the day in the sun. No wonder I’m single…
I was soon befriended by some beautiful Greek ladies whose friend was a waiter there and was giving us free drinks. I think you can tell where this is going: Thom got draaaaank! Soon it was dark and the show was about to begin. We were in for a real treat that night: the world’s most famous Shakira drag queen impersonator herself was there and let me tell you – those hips don’t lie. They were vibrating so rapidly it looked like someone has put the Energizer bunny up her butt. In my drunken state, I felt it vitally important to let the ladies know how well they stacked up against our own Tora Hyman, etc and invited them to Sydney to perform. Standard.
I don’t actually remember getting home that night, but I did have a grazed knee and a really sore toe when I woke up. Most have been a good night!
The next day it was onto the grand finale: Circuit 2012 in Barcelona. Barcelona is seriously beautiful and I would go back in a heartbeat. The architecture, the men, the Sangria, the weather and the food (I don’t think it’s normal to eat as many croquettes as I did), all stunning.
I’ve already written my ‘official’ recap on Circuit (check the news section of guidetogay.com) so I won’t reinvent the wheel, but I will say this: after a fairly intense but brief holiday fling, being caught in the middle of the act on a roof top, tolerating the inhuman sounds emitting from the apparent sex den next door to our hotel room and ten long days of pure homo hedonistic partying (thank you Tang Airways), I was ready to get back to London to start my new life… And a detox which still hasn't happened yet.