I always tend to
assume that our Sennett Holiday Disasters are down to the trials and
tribulations of holidaying with family - but perhaps that's simply because
the kids arrived before Facebook and that's the point at which everyone knew about them.
In actual fact, Lee and I have had many a disaster pre-children - and my own
holidays with friends haven't exactly been plain sailing either (sadly making me the
common denominator here). My first official Sennett disaster, though, was my
first holiday as an actual Sennett - our honeymoon. We went to Sorrento, and it was
amazing in almost every way. Our visit to Herculaneum, however, was less
successful...
The site was a train
ride and then a walk away. The train was busy, but we managed to find seats
opposite a German couple. There were no toilets and by the time we got to the
station, I was pretty desperate for a wee. However, nothing would have
possessed me to use the toilets in the station - they were filthy, unisex holes
in the ground with no doors. I realised I'd just have to wait till we got to
Herculaneum, and so we began the fairly long and very uncomfortable trek to the
site.
By the time we got
there, I was so desperate I was nearly in tears. We walked straight past the
main entrance sign to a shack that was signposted 'toilets' (or more likely 'servizi'
but it was a long time ago). I was a little underwhelmed - they weren't a whole
lot better than the toilets at the station, and certainly weren't what I'd
expect from a world-famous tourist spot. It was one toilet, with no paper or
sink, in what was basically a shed with no lock. Still, beggars couldn't be
choosers. I asked Lee to watch the door and in I went.
Some time later,
feeling greatly relieved, I stood up - and the door opened. In the doorway stood
the German man who had been sitting opposite us on the train. He stood there
and stared. I stood there in all my glory with my pants around my ankles, rooted
to the spot. Eventually he closed the door. I sat back down on the toilet,
cheeks (of the facial variety) burning. Humiliated didn't come close. How was I
going to be able to leave the toilet with even a shred of dignity? And what the
hell was Lee doing while random men opened the door on me going to the loo?!
A few things acted
like extra slaps to the face after my initial embarrassment. The first was
that, after composing myself and opening the door, the German man was still
standing right outside. He didn't have the decency to go and wait further away
to allow me to leave with my head held high (or at least not firmly attached to
my chest) - no, he stood right next to the door, leaving me no alternative but
to have to physically brush past him, all the while knowing he'd just seen
things he really shouldn't have seen. Then, to make matters worse, I spent the
entire visit to Herculaneum trying to dodge him and his girlfriend (who, I'm
sure, knew about the whole 'hilarious' event). It didn't seem to matter where
we went and what we looked at - there they were, like proverbial bad pennies. I literally ended up hiding behind walls and ducking into doorways to avoid them. There was no chance of me being able to forget my embarrassment, as I felt like I was being followed by a constant reminder. The final nail in the coffin was the fact that, if I had just walked another 100m into Herculaneum, there were some beautiful, clean, LOCKING toilets, complete with toilet paper and sinks, right next to the ticket desk.
And what had Lee been doing while all this was going on? Did he get distracted by some ruins or had some terrible accident befallen him? No. He was watching it happen, doing nothing about it. His excuse? 'You told me to watch the door, you didn't tell me to stop people going in!' Seriously. Because I thought he'd find the door interesting and didn't mind at all if people opened the door on me mid-wee... Suffice to say, the honeymoon was very nearly over as soon as it had started, and it was nearly the first and only official Sennett Holiday Disaster!
