The Further Adventures of an Idiot Abroad Read Free Page B

cakes. I had to sit on the pavement for ages
before my address came back to me. But I can still remember the bloody reg plate of that maroon Ford Orion though.
    Sam and Kyle said they knew I was never going to do the jump and had set up another activity. They took me to a golf course, but not for golf . . . No, that would be too boring for a person in
this part of the world. They wanted me to experience zorbing. I’d never heard of it. They had a huge rubber ball sat in the rough, close to the fourteenth hole. They asked me to climb in.
Kyle then started pouring in water from a big drum. I wasn’t expecting this, so I quickly zipped up the hole. They started to roll it. I was being thrown all over the place. It was like being
in one of them balls you put in the washing machine that has softener in it. The water swished about drenching me. This must be what it feels like being a baby in the womb. It was hot in there, and
the smell of warm rubber on top of being chucked around made me feel really sick. It’s not even as if it looks cool. Some people might do bungee jumping and sky diving ’cos they think
it gives off a macho look, but zorbing doesn’t even give you that. It’s the sort of thing you wouldn’t brag about. I felt like a hamster in a wheel.

    I was worried I was going to be sick, which could be dangerous while trapped in a moving ball, as I could end up choking. So, I yelled all the swear words I knew at the top of my voice. They
eventually stopped it rolling. Kyle said I shouldn’t have closed the entrance as the more water that’s in the ball, the smoother the ride. That’s some information I may as well
forget about, as I’m never going zorbing again. No one should go zorbing. I think the ball should be used for shifting furniture that’s too heavy to carry. Shove in a big telly and then
roll it down the road.
    Before they left, Kyle gave me a blow-up kiwi (the national bird) as a memento. I watched a programme on these birds ages ago and remembered that they mate for life. Some have been known to be
together for 30 years, but I don’t know why they make such a big deal about it. I put it down to them all looking the same. I’m pretty sure if all men and all woman looked the same
there wouldn’t be as many divorces. While I’m on kiwi facts, even though it has wings it’s a flightless bird and prefers to keep its feet on the ground like me. And it sleeps
during the day, which was something I wished I could do as the jet lag was killing me by this point.
    I called Ricky and told him I didn’t do the bungee and I wasn’t happy about being put in the situation. He made some chicken noises: £1.50 a minute and he’s doing chicken
noises. But he said I had a chance to redeem myself because he’d arranged for me to go to another island where bungee was actually invented. He said the island was known as the happiest place
in the world and to stop moaning.
    We were up early the next day to catch a small private plane that would take us to another airport to catch another plane that would take us to the island of Pentecost in
Vanuatu. A woman was scraping frost off the windscreen as we loaded up our kit into the small six-seater. It’s the first time I’ve ever had to ask the pilot if he could move his seat
forward so I had room for my legs. We flew really low, so low that the woman co-pilot seemed to be using a normal road map. I’m surprised we didn’t stop at traffic lights we were flying
that low.

    I sat next to so many pilots in small planes during this trip that I reckon I’ve picked up the basics. I’m not a fan of flying so maybe it would be a good thing
     to do as it would help me understand how it all works and take away my anxieties. I worry on my flights that something will happen to the two pilots and no one else will be able to land the
     plane. If I learnt to fly, I could step in. I find it a bit odd how they have more subs on a bench in a football match in case