I have just run a prize draw to win some fantastic Sunsafe SPF 50 sunscreen from the Dead Sea selection. One of my favourite body care ranges by the way. To enter the prize draw I asked people to tell me of their funny or sunny stories about the summer, sunburn etc. Thanks to everyone who entered.
We had some corkers, here are some favourites.
From Tony Brown:
My wife and I were making our honeymoon on the Greek island of Crete and had spent a day out walking.
As the sun set we found ourselves staggering into a mountain village, miles off the beaten track, and made our way towards a scattering of tables and chairs overlooking the sparkling sea. We were exhausted and dying from exposure. No cream, no hats, we should have known better. Every bit of exposed skin was stinging from the sun.
People nodded and stared and my wife remarked how rare strangers must be, away from the resorts. We flopped into a couple of chairs and the waiter materialised at once.
“What do you want, please?”
“Food and drink, anything.” My wife gave her winning smile and he nodded.
“Nothing left now, but perhaps my mother make omelet for you, OK?”
“That would be lovely.”
Off he went inside and soon reappeared with two beers.
Our meal was delicious and I don’t think either of us looked up until we were finished. The biggest surprise came when I asked for the bill.
“Bill? Bill? But this is my home.”
“What?” We stared at each other, unable to take it in.”But all these people, we thought you were a taverna.”
He laughed. “No, no. Every month my son phones from Australia and the family gathers to speak to him.”
As we skulked off down the track again, he called after us. “Come back tomorrow, we have sardines.”
We still feel the burn whenever we look back to our honeymoon.
From an embarrassed Wayne Mattison:
A few years ago I was working as a bricklayer of a building site in sweltering heat when I decided it will be a great idea to cut my jeans down into shorts. So out came the Stanley knife, and I began hacking away at my jeans. The first cut didn’t seem short enough, so I hacked again this time taking little bit more off and tried them on again. This time I ended up cutting through the crotch and ending up with a denim miniskirt. Can you imagine the sight of a 13 stone bricklayer wearing a hard hat, boots and denim mini skirt in the rush hour waiting for a bus home. I never lived it down.
and from Brita
Many years ago, while holidaying in Key West, we were waiting to check in at a motel and got chatting to a middle-aged biker, who was also waiting. “I was just talking to your wife, outside”, Richard told the man, who seemed surprised, and asked “How did you know she was my wife?” Richard didn’t have the courage to confess that it was the large white panda patches around his eyes – caused by wearing motor-cycle goggles in fierce heat – that gave him away. His wife had a matching set!
Ah Julie, this made me laugh,
At fourteen, my figure was well-developed and already had the ‘top-heavy’ look I have learned to live with. I was sunbathing at the rear of the hotel garden, which sloped steeply downwards to a hedge at the bottom. It was a popular place – there were always plenty of guests sprawled about soaking up the sun’s rays. I decided to go and get a drink and stood up, stretching my arms outwards after a pleasant little nap. Unfortunately, the catch at the back of my bikini gave up under the strain and my bikini top catapulted through the air, down the garden and right over the hedge at the bottom, in true Barbara Windsor style!
It caused great hilarity amongst the other sunbathers, but it has taken me some years to appreciate the funny side!!!
from Douglas Gray
I was a young soldier in Germany, out on adventurous training by skiing in the Alps, I was standing off piste when I spotted a tube of stuff lying in the snow,on picking it up the only German I could make out was sun protection 15, great I thought and rubbed some into my exposed face and neck. Unfortunately not only did it have a SPF of 15 it also contained wintergreen, have you ever tried to ski with your eyes watering, I have. I did get an amazing tan though, possibly aided by the increased blood flow to my face that day.
Sorry you didn’t win Richard
My ‘place in the sun’ story, (actually ‘SHED in the Sun!’) was coming to a conclusion, after buying this ancient uninhabited Greek house near the Bulgarian black sea coast. Vasil, the agent, called at the house just to check all was well, after concluding the contracts :
How’s the garden, Vasil?..must be pretty wild after being uninhabited for years? I asked. Actually, said he, a kind neighbour must have kept things mowed nicely….Who’s that, I must send him a thankyou card, said I……Old Gosko said Vasil ( that’s Bulgarian for George.), but do you mind him living there until you come next year?……….er, ok says I , has he nowhere else?…….Well he sleeps in the open all summer, but when the snow comes, he stays in your house……….& you have to clear up his excretia after he goes, it will be all over the garden too..!
Baffled by George’s incontinence problem, I said: Is that why he lives outside & on his own?(poor old soul).
No he’s not alone, says Vasil, he’s looked after by Stanka, the lady who lives across the road. After my silent giggling & thinking the name probably stuck after long association with George.. I continued:
Oh, that’s kind of her, shall I address the card to her? You could do, says Vasil, as Gosko’s never going to read it.
Poor old soul, incontinent & now blind also, no wonder he needs looking after, I thought out loud.
Sounding a little confused, Vasil said, oh he’s not blind & was in a hurry so hung up.
Imagine the embarrassment when I later discover that old Greek houses reserve the ground floor for animals to over winter, & George was a Donkey!
H for Holly Phillips
Wearing a necklace my best friend had given me for my birthday – a lovely
necklace with the dangling initial ‘H’ representing my name – we returned
from an enjoyable day out to find I had caught the sun and been branded with
a big letter ‘H’ on my chest!!
Lets all do the Conga from Shelley Ellin
On a very sunny day on my yearly summer holiday with my parents and siblings in Hayle, Cornwall, I decided to take my dingy out to sea. After what seemed like several hours of playing on my dingy in the blistering sunshine I felt a rather strange and disturbing poking under the dingy…Having grown up watching Jaws I truly felt that my life was in danger. I screamed and started paddling with my hands with all my might, trying to reach the shore which seemed as though it were miles away. I really thought that was it for me. Believe it or not I actually survived the ordeal and having dragged myself ashore, strangely with my dingy intact, shaking and trembling I re-told my ordeal to my father (I expected cuddles,sympathy and an ice-cream – no such luck!) who although present was not aware of what I had just been through. He retold my story to a nearby Cornish Fisherman who explained that it was probably not a great white but in fact a Conger eel that was to blame for my near death experience. My father thought this was highly amusing and proceeded to lead my family in a rendition of ‘lets all do the conga….Let’s all do the conga……” And to my utter humiliation my family all did the conga along the sandy shores of sunny Hayle beach….a real holiday to remember!
A green headed monster, from Sandy Brown
My husband and I were on holiday on the Greek island of Karpathos and his bald head was stinging with sun burn. As I inspected the damage and we began discussing buying sun lotion, someone began tapping my leg with a stick. It was an old lady offering me some pulpy mush from her hand.
“Aloe Vera. Aloe Vera,” she cried, pointing to a large cactus growing out of a wall. She seemed to indicate we must not eat it because it would make us very sick but if I rubbed some on my husband’s head it would not only take away the sting but make his hair grow strong.
Three or four of her friends were watching from the shadows of their shielding hands waiting to see what we would do.
I thanked her and did as she suggested, willing to make a fool of ourselves just to be polite. As soon as I began to rub it in, the ‘girls’ twittered with gentle laughter and began chattering like sparrows and patted their old companion on her arms; well done, well done, another one bites the dust. Tales for those long winter nights I supposed.
Our bus was waiting, and so were our fellow passengers twittering with gentle laughter but too polite to say what had made them laugh.