Allow me to spin you a yarn, tell you a tale, set for you the scene.
I'm 9 years old. My mum has been engaged to my soon-to-be Step-Father Graham for some time now. We fly out, the three of us, plus my Grandma and Granddad, to Sri-Lanka for two weeks, wherein the wedding ceremony will take place.
Our hotel, upon arrival is a little dingy and the beds are somewhat uncomfortable. Despite asking for a 3 bedroom room (for me, my Grandma and Granddad) we are given a two bedroom room with a camp-bed shoddily arranged at the end of the room, covered in sheets to attempt to disguise it as a real bed. This attempt is in vain. It does not look like a real bed. Not soon after arriving do we learn that the pool is out of action as it is being remodelled for the following summer, we are told that we may use the pool belonging to the adjoining hotel.
After settling in (and suffering jet-lag the likes of which I have never known since and wish never to know again) we make our way to the restaurant part of the hotel, as we are all inclusive (this is due to the lack of restaurants and bars available on the island as after a certain time, residents are required to be inside the complex, as the crime rate in the area was quite high and so it was dangerous to be out at night) I am struck by the size of the buffet, it is undeniably large... but it is only as I approach the buffet do I begin to realise that most of the food is stale, fish or had clearly been sitting there since breakfast. Breakfast in itself was not an altogether pleasant experience either. The 'breakfast spread' consisted of full fat milk, the cereal that you can buy abroad that resembles old toenails and tastes not dissimilar to that and the vegetables that had not moved since the night before, but will probably soon begin to move once they inevitably gain sentience in order to escape this episode of Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares.
This began a difficult time for me to be alive.
Due to Sri-Lanka's location on the globe, and the small size of the island, mosquitoes are everywhere and so malaria is a large risk not worth taking. 9 year old me struggled to take tablets without being sick. We had to take them for 3 weeks before we went, the 2 weeks we were there and a further 2 weeks following our returning to the UK.
I have distinct memories of throwing up into our kitchen sink after my 4th attempt at swallowing a tablet with orange juice, at which point my mother - demonstrating her incredible empathetic skills - says "Look, will you stop being sick now because i'm going to run out of tablets." as the 4th tablet passes my lips for the second time in less than 30 seconds.
As a result of this problem, I had to have my tablets crushed up and put into jam, which I then had to eat. Needless to say at two tablets every morning I went through a considerable amount of the hotel's miniature jam packets.
So with the combination of Toenail-O's, Tablet-Jam and Almost Sentient Vegetables, breakfast was not shaping up to be a pleasant experience...
...Until one day! As my 9 year old body, that had eaten perhaps 7oz of food over the course of 7 days stumbled into the restaurant, I notice the holy grail of breakfasts, across the room is a tupperwear cereal container filled to the top with Nesquick. Now Nesquick was already infrequent at home, but to find it here of all places was the equivalent of the first explorers to discover the pyramids. I pile a bowl up as high as it will go and reluctantly dribble on some full fat milk. I eat like I have never eaten before, and as if I will never eat again, and as soon as I am done I grab my bowl and run for more.
Empty.
The container that held my only form of sustenance, my one and only life source, was completely empty, not even one chocolate sphere remained.
Immediately, sensing this may the only full meal I would eat in some time, I call the nearest staff member to help me get to the bottom of who the fuck ate all the damn cereal, and who would I have to kill to get some more. Sadly this conversation did not go well as not only did he not speak any English, my Grandma also tried to get involved.
Now my Grandma, well meaning though she is, was probably even more of a hindrance to this situation than the situation was to itself. I begin talking to the man, pointing to the container and asking if he could refill it for me. He struggles to understand what I am saying. My Grandma, seeing there is some misunderstanding, wanders over to offer assistance, however she did not actually possess the skills required to assist.
She asks me what is the matter, and I explain that they have run out of Nesquick, my Grandma, being perfectly fine of hearing but still infrequently not listening to what you are saying, mishears the name... this may have been an accident, or it may have been due to the fact that she seems to call everything by the wrong name (Greggs, the famous bakery, she calls Greggory's, Deal Or No Deal she calls Deal And No Deal, you get the idea) she simply turns to the man and says...
"Nesquarry."
The man then repeats it, but slightly more garbled, as if we are playing a game of Chinese Whispers in which everybody playing is a moron.
I then proceed to attempt to correct my grandmother and say "No. No, it's NesQUICK not quarry." to which she simply reacts by repeating the word "Nesquarry." slightly louder to the man, who is still in a state of wild confusion as these two english tourists shout words at him that in the wrong tone of voice could be misconstrued as a threat. Nobody wants to be threatened with an incorrectly named bowl of cereal.
Shortly after my Grandmother's invention of Nesquarry, Coco-Pops released Coco-Rocks, which if you ask me, is a direct rip off of geology themed cereals.
After ten minutes of wildly screaming "NESQUICK." "NESQUARRY." "NESQUARKY?" at each other, I pick up the plastic tub and mime with my fingers eating a bowl of cereal, in the hopes he will understand that I simply want more.
He points at the toenail cereal and I decide to leave.
The hotel that has the pool that we are instructed to use in lieu of our own came with a poolside bar and grill, accessible only with the wristbands belonging to the people staying at the appropriate hotel, which means on a daily basis, the friends I made at that hotel were able to eat whilst I was not. The kinds of food that came out of that bar were beautiful and you could smell it all around the pool. The milkshakes were huge and the chips smelt so nice... and there I was, with my jam-tablets and my empty bowl of non-existent Nesquarry.
Thankfully, I, in a manner comparably only to a Cockney Orphan in Victorian London stealing an apple from a fruit stall managed to trick those serving into believing I had the wristband corresponding to the correct hotel on one or two occasions and so I got to taste the sweet nectar of stolen goods.
On the first day my family and I realised we were able to do this, I was so excited, I can still remember exactly what I ordered. I ordered a strawberry milkshake, a cheese and ham toasted sandwich and a side of chips.
Words can not express how hungry I was, I was past the point of your stomach rumbling, and past the point where it had begun to feast upon your fat reserves in order to sustain itself, I was now at the point where my stomach had begun to eat itself in order to survive.
As I waited for that sandwich to arrive, I began to dream of better times, a time of lunchboxes, crisps and home cooked meals, I longed for sustenance, I needed food.
The waiter brings my sandwich to me, he places it in front of me on the table and leaves, my eyes widen in anticipation and I think I had a heart murmur, and as I go to reach for the glorious grilled bread, cheese and ham, I am only seconds away from tasting it's glory, and my mouth is watering enough to sustain many plants...
My sandwich is gone.
I look at my plate in confusion. I do not understand. I was hungry but I did not eat it so fast that I didn't see myself eat it, surely?
I look up and see a bird, sitting meters away from me, on the other side of the fence designed to keep tourists safe... eating my sandwich.
I have never fully recovered.
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