Sick as a Parrot

Nowadays I only have to hear that phrase: ‘sick as a parrot’ and it takes me straight back to one of the most fun-filled family holidays I can remember. I suppose it was that way because for us, at that time, foreign travel was new. It was a wonderful novelty. It must have been in the good old 1980’s. The first time in Majorca, that glorious, sun-drenched island (well, some of the time!), we woke early in the morning after a late night arrival at our new hotel. We drew back the curtains and looked out of the window at the scene beneath us. It seemed like a film set in some exotic location – maybe a James Bond movie - and we pinched ourselves to make sure it was really true and not some fantastic dream. White fairy lights still blazed out over a huge empty swimming pool surrounded by neat rows of sunbeds. The cool, pristine walls of the hotel gleamed and there were flowers on the balconies. It was very early and no-one in the hotel was stirring. The lights were still on. The pool was a very deep blue and the sun was coming up. In the distance were the mountains. It was just how we had dreamed, but not dared to imagine. The Villa Concha – our own island paradise! Could this amount of luxury really be meant for us?

The second time we stayed in an apartment block closer to the centre of town and not far from the stylish waterfront with its mix of bars, restaurants, marina and palm-fringed beaches. Just opposite was a typical tourist bar, tweaking the Mediterranean cuisine that we were still getting used to into subtle tourist shapes and offering chips, burgers, salads and the most amazing gateaux, light, fluffy and full of chocolate, cream and strawberries. As a family we were hooked. The restaurant owner, Pepé, was keen to please, of course, sparkling with fun and humour and oh, so sweet to our small daughter. She drank it all in, the excitement, the laughter, the other families, our special table to which we were ushered as if we were honoured guests and, best of all, the parrot! Pepé’s parrot was his trademark, on a perch just outside the door. We went back year after year and business was good. Same menu, same décor, same merry banter and (probably) same parrot!

We were new to travel, new to sunshine and sand Mediterranean style, new to garlic and olives and new to large bottles of very drinkable wine. Each evening we ordered a bottle of Pepé’s wine to stand on our table during the meal. Each evening we drew a little closer to the bottom of the bottle at the end of the night. As we ate we retold our day – the hours on the beach, the car we had hired to drive through the mountains, the fish we had caught in the little green fishing net, the state of our sunburnt bodies… We ate, we drank and, most of all, we laughed! The holiday brought out the best in us. We relaxed, laid back, enjoyed each other’s company and enjoyed our small daughter.

Holidays are funny. For a while normal life is abandoned, routines are relaxed, normal rules don’t apply. We let our hair down. We stayed up late. It was a holiday full of laughter. At some point during the meal, every night, it seemed, our daughter would turn to her much-loved daddy, and say: “Say it again, daddy! You know, the one about the parrot…” and he would bring out the same old joke again – clowning about and saying “as sick as a parrot” in that silly, Freddie Davies voice and we would fall about laughing. The more often he said it, the funnier it became and we rolled about helplessly, enjoying hours of harmless, family fun. London-based Freddie, children’s comedian, with a famous line in jokes about budgies, never knew how he inspired us. Night after night we collapsed over the table, giggling, with diners at neighbouring tables looking on. Funny how funny things can get when you say them often enough. Little girls can be very silly and giggly. We often find their humour hard to understand. Imagine our daughter’s delight then when, with the help of a day of sunshine and relaxation, followed by an unaccustomed bottle of wine, mum and dad joined in. At the end of the meal we would stagger back to our apartment, studiously avoiding the edges of the swimming pool, and giggle all the way back home. To this day any mention of parrots can raise a silly smile.

Today I really do feel sick as a parrot. A week long fever and a hacking cough have taken their toll and I’m fed up with it! I’ve missed work, my social life is destroyed, communication has dissolved into endless coughing fits and I’m feeling very bored. However, even today I can’t help grinning at the thought of that parrot.