Holidays in Hell

Reports from the world’s hot-spots. Bock under fire.


I thought you should know the torture I’m enduring to bring you the latest from around the world.

As we speak, I’m in a little fishing village on the Adriatic, forced to drink ice-cold beers at a cafe overlooking the harbour, and you know this is not something I enjoy.

But as you also know, my dedication to my readers knows no bounds, and I’m determined to persevere with this struggle for another full week.

I hope you appreciate the things I do for you.



It gets even tougher.  We were forced to visit the local cantina and buy a couple of bottles of their local red wine.  Then we had to visit our old friend Dragan’s new restaurant to sample a selection of his pasta dishes and pizzas.


We had to end the night with a final round of beers by the quayside as the fishing boats gently bobbed in the evening breeze.

You know what’s even worse?  There’s a place where we’ll have to watch the Lions matches and drink more beer.

God, it’s rough.


15 thoughts on “Holidays in Hell

  1. Respect to you sir.Putting up with COLD beer,run o’the mill sunsets and amidst all the suffering you still find time to write a few words.I hope things improve in the coming week.Enjoy.

  2. i’m touched, sugar! i don’t think i’ve ever had a friend so willing to sacrifice for me. i am weeping tears of joy and gratitude. you are a prince among men! xoxox

  3. Well BOCK, seems you’ve out done even your self this time! I wonder if this is apt?

    Daring all
    He prepared to fall
    For others who so easily call
    Those efforts so much silly-so
    Perhaps an ode for a Gigolo

    Or not!

  4. Well fair play to you anyway. You hang in there ya hear me!!! I know its hard with the sun and the boats and the cold beers, god those evil bastards…. what next will they throw at you? airconditioned rooms, more local wine, maybe some sunbathing!!!! God that sounds fucking awful….
    Get out while you can BOCK…………
    God speed.

  5. For some unknowable reason I went on a holiday -as a kid- to Butlins in early June. And I have never gone on holidays in August in my life. There is just something truly unpleasant about both.

  6. Been there myself a few times (different locations though) and nearly had nervous breakdowns up to 2 weeks before I was forced to leave towards the end. Thank heavens I’m old(er) now and can’t handle that sort of thing any longer.

    May you make it home alive, sir. I salute you.

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