My late mother in law once famously said, totally seriously, ‘I loved my holiday in Switzerland. The only thing that spoiled it a bit was all the hills. It would be perfect if it was flatter’.
It was difficult hold my tongue to that!
He’s lucky. We lived for three months in a rolled up newspaper in a septic tank. Used to have to get up at six in the morning, clean the newspaper, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down the mill for a 14 hour day, week in week out for sixpence a month. And when we got home, our dad would thrash us to sleep with his belt.
I used to go organised railway enthusiast tours around Europe in 1990s. I found it depressing that the first question many of them asked was directions to the nearest McDonalds.
steve
I’m not so much an emotional person but I’ve once spontaneously hugged someone who pointed me to the nearest McDonalds after weeks eating rice with some vegetables and water on tour in rural Africa.
I’d be happy with the rice and vegetables. I wouldn’t go past the Yellow Arch for a pension, and not just because I’m a vegetarian.
steve
“Luxury!”
Remind me of when I got promoted to Transport Manager around about 1990.
Part of the job was the specification and procurement of the fleet vehicles trucks, lorry cranes forklifts cetcetc.
This involved numerous factory visits to the suppliers in Europe and the uk one of the first was to the Palfinger Crane plant in Salisbury Austria. I just could not get on with the food on the second day soup was on the menu I thought well they can’t F— this up surely, but they did.
A couple of us slipped out round the corner for a McDonald’s it was like we had found heaven.
I’m not sure about the food, but MacDonalds certainly had the cleanest toilets in Moscow in 1993.
Sixpence a month?
Luxury, you don’t know you’re born…
This is nicest MacDonald’s I’ve ever eaten in. Although I seem to recall the burgers weren’t as tasty as you get in MacDonald’s Wigan.
I don’t think I have ever seen the first seven words of your post, in that particular order before.
‘On tour’, you mean when you were in the military?
I am not, but to me the idea of eating at McDonald’s is unthinkable. Among the things I hate most about it, it’s the fact that they call themselves restaurants.
Are you sure you weren’t in Salisbury, Wiltshire, England?
Or perhaps in Salzburg, Austria?