FLASHBACK #29: Away from the cold, into the warm!

Just days after seeing in 2003, I was away once more, this time bound for the Canary Island of Tenerife. It had been a pretty cold January so far and it was a shame that Bree wouldn't be joining me, albeit for obvious reasons. My parents still didn't know about my sexuality and they certainly didn't know about Bree.

The six hour-flight had cost me more than £400 from Helsinki, but I would be crashing in the spare room of the apartment my parents had rented at Park Santiago II in Playa De Las Americas so it was a price I was willing to pay for one week away from the -20's. After a six hour flight, I landed at Reina Sofia Airport, feeling very much at home; my family and I lived in Tenerife for six months in 1992 while my Dad managed a bar and restaurant there.

Whenever I visit the Canaries, it doesn't feel like a holiday to me, but more like a home from home. After all, it's like a warm England, complete with encounters with all things English every minute of everyday. If you don't encounter them head on, you see them moving in droves, clad in battered trainers and England football shirts. And if you don't meet them or see them, sooner or later you will bloody hear them. Normally, they are the ones who are screaming and shouting, arguing on balconies at 3am in the morning, recreating what resembles a rather dramatic scene from EastEnders!

On this visit, however, we were staying in a respectable part of Playa De Las Americas. The days were spent lounging around, taking in the sun and splashing about in the pool. The evenings were spent visiting our favourite restaurants before winding up at a karoake bar or cabaret venue. One evening, we ended up in a packed out bar that had a rather bizarre cabaret featuring two over-sexed nuns! It was dreadfully common, but ultimately hilarious!

One afternoon, in nearby Los Christianos, one of my sisters and I went on a stationary hot air balloon which gave you some great views of the resort. For fifteen minutes, we admired the view, pleased to be away from the 'olds' for a bit. On this particular trip, we also visited nearby Los Christianos for the first time ever, with it's popular harbour and beach. My brother-in-law and I swam in the warm sea, the rugged cliffs of Los Christianos towering over us.

On several evenings during the wonderful week, my mother and I were often the last ones awake. Having inherited my parents appreciation for Bacardi, out would come the Bacardi bottle, some Diet Coke and crisps. We would sit out on the warm balcony, closing the patio door so that we could talk for hours. There were times where I wanted to tell my Mother about Bree, to scream from the rooftops about how happy - and lucky - I was to be with him. But now wasn't the right moment. We chatted and giggled, recalling our late-night chats whilst in Florida in the year 2000.

It's during these kind of chats with my Mum that I realise how alike we are, how I have inherited not just her appreciation of Bacardi, but also her sensitivity and kind nature. There are times, of course, when my father's temper becomes evident in me so I do know that my parents are definitely mine! It bought a tear to my eye when my Mum would recall events from my childhood. She had a very hard time persuading a Headteacher to accept me into a mainstream school, fighting of the Social Services on several occasions for refusing to send her son to a deaf school. She told me that she would often collect me from nursery school and I would be there, the little deaf boy, playing on his own in the corner of the room.

On the night when I was returning to Finland, my parents and I went to a Chinese Restaurant. Whilst there, my Dad plied me with drinks and I got a little bit drunk, giggling all the way to the airport! Needless to say, the alcohol helped me to slept soundly during the midnight flight!