FIESTAS!!

This is always one of the strangest times of the year for me as we go from the joyous and noisy fiestas to the quietest times of the year within a few short days. It´s always tickled me that the November Fiestas have a totally different meaning depending on whether you happen to be British or Spanish. Up in the old town we have the spectacular parades, dancing, singing, endless stalls and funfairs, the very heart of fiesta land in fact, the Brits however seem to be blissfully unaware of this. And now they have created their own fiesta. – Fancy Dress Thursday. This comes the day after the end of the official one. This is a day like no other in Benidorm, so big in fact that the Spanish have also began to embrace it – they don´t have much choice! Starting mid afternoon along “The Square” hundreds and hundreds of middle aged drunks gleefully waddle together in an orgy of playful spontaneity as they wrestle with huge masks, ample Disney skins, over taught suspender belts (men AND women), chunky head dresses and swinging rubber male dongs to a throbbing soundtrack of 70´s pop. – Terrific stuff!!


P.S. – On a personal note my Spanish Matador´s gear didn´t feel right once my black tache dropped off through damp to the top lip and I slunk away sober after 2 hours.

Mind Yer Backs Am Coming Through.

Well we´ve now come full circle at I´m back at the Cumberland Bar in Benidorm and I have to say it feels like Ivé hardly been away, - well let´s face it, I hardly have! Doing Mondays and Wednesday afternoons plus Thursday nights at the mo.


It´s been a busy old time of late, what with commuting from here to Blackpool every weekend to team up with my old mates and ex Cumberland bar owners Nigel and Yvonne. We have now taken residence in The Catholic Club on Queen St. And we´re loving it! We are there Saturday nights and Sunday afternoons until the end of the illuminations at the beginning of November. We bumped into an old chap in the Tower Ballroom clicking his “bones” along with the Mighty Wurlitzer last week, we quickly informed him that he´d passed his audition for us and he duly turned up on the Sunday afternoon to do his stuff. There could be trouble at mill though cos we´ve already got a resident “bone” player in there and they paced around each other like a couple of starving wolves for a while until they backed off. – Next week we´re thinking of introducing a “bone-off”

Annual Blackpool Reunion

I think they call it “R and R” in the army, and that´s pretty much what I´ve been up to here in Benidorm for the last couple of weeks – “doin bugger all” is another way of putting it. It´s been years since I worked July and August and I´m normally back home by now but thought I´d hang on a bit and avoid the flash floods of the monsoon season back in Leeds, and besides I haven´t owned a pair of wellies since I was a kid. Lots of stag and hen parties over here at the mo, and I would like to thank one of their number for lightening my day recently. A lone Geordie youngster wheeling a suitcase in his wake late one morning stopped to ask me (and several other startled pedestrians) “Ow do I get to Majorca from ere like” – quickening his stride as he spoke, as if afraid the last bus had gone without him. I felt a bit sorry for him to be honest – he didn´t look like a strong swimmer.


In 3 weeks time it´s the highlight of the year for me, the now defunct “Cumberland Ex-Servicemen´s Club” annual trip to Blackpool. Here my alto ego The Concert Chairman takes his place amongst the other loons – er.....sorry, I mean members in a festival of fun, laughter and sheer juvenile idiocy. Check Facebook in coming weeks to see evidence of this. – “Kevin Holt Benidorm” or “Cumberland Committee-man”

And So The Times They Are A Changing.

 The Cumberland Ex-Servicemen´s Club now gone I am now ensconced at "The 2 Seals trades and Labour Club" and I´m settling in rather nicely. Though a smaller venue than The Cumberland it has a good feel about the place and owners Nigel and Debbie are great to work for and I look forward to some happy times there.


The other Nigel from the old Cumberland Bar although now resident back in England popped over last week to tie up a few loose ends and to drag me out on the drink for 2 consecutive days (that´s a lot for me), and I almost felt like I was on me hols. (I smiled twice and bought a round).He and Yvonne have since attended the required committee meetings at the Catholic Club on Queens St. Blackpool and we can now announce that we will be doing a season of Saturday nights and Sunday afternoons throughout the illuminations there (8th September to 3rd November). So we will be up to all the usual antics with the Concert Chairman plus a few of my so called impressions and Nige on his Sax/clarinet plus some new stuff from Yvonne. I will still be working at the 2 Seals Bar throughout this time as I´ll be flitting backwards and forwards every week.

As many of you know we´ve used the Catholic Club a couple of times before as part of our reunion which incidentally goes ahead as usual 3rd, 4th and 5th August. This has grown into quite an event over the years and if you require details of this you can contact me on kevinholt41@hotmail.com (We get special rates at The Savoy Hotel).

So whether it be here in Benidorm or over there in Blackpool, - hope to see you soon. - Kev

We Sign Off At The Cumberland Ex-Servicemen´s Club Benidorm.

I would like to thank Nigel and Yvonne and all of their staff at The Cumberland bar for some truly great memories, and so too our “members”, many of whom have become personal friends along the way, as well as performers Harry Andrews and our very own Elvis, Alan Dodd too for all their sterling efforts who all came together to create something pretty special in my opinion. Never shy of going the extra mile to create something different, whether it be holding the very popular remembrance service, “A festival of Christmas Songs”, whilst raising funds for “Help For Heroes” or indulging the Concert Chairman in his strange little parallel universe, they were never shy of putting the hard graft in to make things work, and I for one enjoyed every minute.


They deserve to put their feet up now and have a bit of a rest, but not too long I hope, for this is not the end of the story. The Blackpool reunion goes ahead as usual and we are also planning beyond that to recreate some of the highlights from The Cumberland Bar during the “Sunday Afternoon Extravaganza´s” in a new venture. We´ll let you know.

These posts will continue as I´ll remain in Benidorm for the winter season´s, or at least that´s the plan, the Chairman has just secured another post at the “Two Seals” pub opposite Steptoes cabaret spot where he will no doubt continue his reign of terror.

Real Club?

I´ve been playing the grumpy old Concert Chairman now for longer than I care to call, - the last few years in the Cumberland Bar. But somewhere along the journey the line got blurred between spoof Working Men´s Club and the real deal. It happened bit by bit, firstly by our “members” making a point of religiously sitting in the same place and scowling at any intruders who happened to stray on to their patch, howling derision at our karaoke singers who happened to sing their song and the increasing number of canine members on our books. We had two in today – “Kipper” the Jack Russel from Fleetwood and “Barking” Barney Barker the one eyed Bishon Frise who shared the Concert Chairman´s chicken sarnie. But the real clincher for me has been the shenanigans concerning the theft of the button from the top of the toilet! We couldn´t buy a replacement straight off, it had to be ordered and so we placed a bookies pen on top of the bog which was to be inserted in the hole now bereft of a button in order to flush. But somebody nicked the bloody bookies pen! And so we had to then attach a biro to the cistern now with the aid of a red ribbon to discourage the light fingered brigade. After several weeks of this I can report that the button has now arrived and is now in the hands of the plumber - which is where it will remain no doubt.


P.S – I love it!

"He´s Behind You" Etc.

I popped home last weekend to watch my eldest niece Brooke in Panto and then again perform with her dance troupe at the O2 Arena in London. It was the first pantomime I´ve been to since I saw Freddy Garrity as buttons in the early 70´s and glad to say they haven´t changed much. Alas Freddy Garrity has long since departed but that lovely musty Town Hall smell still remains, or at least I think it was the Town Hall. It must be a tad confusing for any non Brit in the audience (as it was for me as a young child) to see the leading man sporting shapely pins in a short mini dress and a pert pair of breasts, and the leading lady played by a portly middle aged man in a long frock, - and saggy breasts. (A sort of Bernard Manning with rosy cheeks). But it´s all part of being English isn´t it?

I bunked a lift with my baby sister’s family down to London minutes after the full cast had stomped off stage from their triumphant opening night finale to much acclaim.

Arriving at half 2 in the morning at the “Premier Inn” just down the road from Canary Wharf I shared a room (we had to change it twice) with brother-in-law Gary. I normally refuse to leave the house without my earplugs as a rule, and of the course the one time that I do I am housed next to a world class snorer, and for two hours I am subjected to the trumpetings of a madman which I can only liken to a Wild Boar that´s had its front two hooves tied together whilst somebody from behind taps at its testicles with a toffee hammer.

P.S Brooke was sensational.

Aunt Bessie Saves the day.

Well that´s Christmas and New Year out of the way then. I enjoyed the two carol services performed by the Right Reverand Nigel Turner at the Cumberland Bar, there were mince pies and mulled wine and lustily sung  Christmas songs  of which I hadn´t personally performed since assembly at school at the arse end of the 70´s.
My Christmas Day was officially "Quiet" I set about making Christmas dinner which was a first for me and pleased to say it was a masterpiece! - Well the chicken breast was a touch on the chewy side, me "Aunt Bessie" roasties turned me oven into a raging inferno and at one point I dashed hot foot into the kitchen thinking the thing had blown up. (As it turned out somebody had dropped a bag of shopping out in the corridor but it sounded like an explosion to me). Only problem was that Í´d made enought to feed a family of six, and I sat there like Henry the sodding 8th ploughing my way through mounds of veg, 4 giant Yorkshire puddings and enough mashed potatoes to grout me entire bathroom. After about an hour I gave a groan, rolled to one side like a giant Weeble and and fell asleep with a sprout in me mouth at around 5:30pm.