Happy travels
Five top British comics come clean and reveal their funniest (read: most embarrassing) travel disasters to Stephen Armstrong. Illustration by buttonfruit.com
Alan Carr
ACAPULCO, MEXICO
I was late for a bus to Acapulco and the only two seats they had left were at the back next to the toilets. They reeked. In fact, people were holding their noses and waving anything they could find to try and generate some air. The air conditioning on the bus wasn’t helping things in the least, and to make it worse, every time the bus went around a corner the toilet door would fly open and we’d be happy-slapped with the stench. I was gagging at this point and trying to find a gap in the window insulation where I could get some fresh, healthy air.
As the bus trundled up a mountainside, the toilet door flew open every few minutes. I was so nauseous; I slammed it shut out of pure frustration. With a huge ‘clang’, the door remained shut, and the aroma seemed, thank God, to have abated for the time being.
We thought nothing more of it until a Mexican man from the front of the bus came to use the toilet. He grabbed the handle to pull it down. Nothing. He pulled a bit harder – yes, it was jammed. Then he looked at me and pointed aggressively at the toilet door. Did I look like I had ‘toilet attendant’ written on my forehead?
Obviously, I didn’t say this to him, as he looked scary. He was gesturing to me that I had broken the toilet. That’s gratitude. I didn’t see anyone complaining when I had deadened the smell. I had gone from bus hero to bus villain in the space of 15 minutes. What was I supposed to do? Buy a Glade plug-in?
By then, a couple of other Mexicans got involved, talking in Spanish, then looking at me and scowling. They managed to force the lock and – ‘open sesame!’ – the door flew open, offering up its eggy treasures for the whole of the back of bus. We would just have to make do with the smell for the next 11 hours. Except that now, not only did we get the stench when we went round a bend, we were also blessed with the sight of a Mexican sitting on the toilet as well.
Look Who It Is! My Story (HarperCollins, £7.99) by Alan Carr is available now. His new chat show starts in June
Lucy Porter
LOS ANGELES, USA
The first time I went driving in America was in Los Angeles. I ended up with the rental company’s biggest car because the woman loved my ‘cute English accent’ – so she upgraded me all the way. It was a massive American thing – a Chevy or a Caddy, with cruise control and everything. And I was so busy fiddling around with all the stuff that I didn’t realise I had turned head on the wrong way into a five-lane freeway intersection…
You know there’s always that comedy thing in American movies where you get the grandma driving and she can’t see over the steering wheel? I was exactly like that. I mean, I’m not the tallest person in the world. I could barely see out of the window so I wasn’t really aware of what was going on. Looking back, I was very lucky to escape with my life. Especially because it was such a big car.
I suddenly heard a stream of abuse from this Hispanic guy – I learned some amazing Spanish swear words very quickly. But then it was quite sweet because I said, “I’m terribly sorry, I’m English”, and suddenly he was as nice as you can be. In England, if you said you were American in a situation like that… well, it wouldn’t let you get away with anything. But over there being English clearly meant I could get away with absolutely anything because he instantly calmed down and helped me get out of the mess I was in. Proof, I suppose, that the Americans are nicer than we are.
Lucy Porter is a regular face on panel shows Mock The Week, Have I Got News For You and Never Mind The Buzzcocks. She is also on tour
Omid Djalili
MALTA
Being the comic who films movies with the stars has its own special kind of stress. Working on Gladiator in Malta, for instance. My stand-up career was just starting to take off and I can’t have heard
my agent properly because when the job came through it clashed with a Comedy Store gig. I said, ‘I’m not keen – the Comedy Store is really big.’ So the film people offered to buy out the gig. Even then I didn’t quite get it until I walked on set in Malta and saw the cameras and crew and suddenly realised, ah… this is a big movie.
Russell Crowe was keeping himself very much to himself and people were worried. The producers knew I did stand-up so Ridley Scott, the director of the movie, asked me if I could try to cheer Russell up. He even arranged a meeting in the centre of the gladiatorial arena.
I opened with a cheery hello. “Hey Russ,” I said. “I heard you’re feeling a bit lonely. I’m a really fun guy, maybe we can hang out.”
I still can’t believe I actually used the phrase ‘fun guy’.
“What do you mean?” Crowe snapped back. “Nothing,” I grinned. “I just heard you live alone in this house, but all the guys, we’re playing pool, tops off by the pool, why not hang out with me?”
“Who told you I was lonely?” Crowe barked. I looked around to find all the producers had fled and I was standing alone. Then Crowe’s PA hustled him away.
The next day I was still smiling at him – ‘still available, still here if you want me’ – when his PA comes up and says, “Russell can get so into his roles he can mishear things sometimes. He thought you were making a pass at him.”
Omid Djalili will take over Rowan Atkinson as Fagin in Oliver! from 20 July. He has appeared in films from The Mummy to Gladiator
Rhod Gilbert
KANDAHAR, AFGHANISTAN
I did some shows for the troops out in Afghanistan recently which was an experience. For some reason they seemed fascinated by squash. Everywhere I went there was a beaker of squash. You’ve got to rush from place to place and then the helicopter breaks down or the plane doesn’t arrive and you have to sit around for hours – ‘hurry up and wait’ they call it.
So you’re sitting there for hours and nothing happens except squash. I was flying from the UK and the voiceover came on: “Cabin crews, doors to manual”, and they were like, “Not now, captain, this squash isn’t going to pour itself.”
Then we landed at Kandahar airport. I got off the plane and got my mobile out and this woman – they call them movers – came running up to me and said, “Don’t turn your phone on! The Taliban are surrounding us and they’ve got such sophisticated equipment that they’ll know exactly where you are.”
I said, “I was just going to phone my mum and tell her I’d landed safely.” She said, “You must never, ever do that. If you dial out they’ll pick up the number you’re calling.”
For a moment I was really worried, then I thought: “Let them bloody ring. They’ll hang up before she does unless they’ve got an unhealthy interest in next door’s caravan. And then they’ll have to put up with her ringing them back every Sunday night.”
Rhod Gilbert was nominated for last year’s if.comedy award with his show The Award-Winning Mince Pie
Eddie Izzard
BIRMINGHAM, UK
My worst trip was hitchhiking from Sheffield to Birmingham. I was putting on student shows with my own group, the Official Touring Company of Alpha Centauri, and I wanted to take a show to Edinburgh but needed publicity. I was a big Tiswas fan so I thumbed a lift to Birmingham, where they made OTT – Chris Tarrant’s grown-up version of Tiswas in the 80s.
They dropped me off right in the middle of Spaghetti Junction. I caught a bus into the city centre to find a payphone. They’d just changed from the pips to the thing where you put all the money in first. People wouldn’t know you were in a phone box. You could be in an office.
The plan was based on a Peter Sellers scam. I would ring and ask for Tarrant’s agent, so I could hear what his voice sounded like. Then I’d hang up, call back, ask for Tarrant and, impersonating Tarrant’s agent, recommend a hot talent named Eddie Izzard for OTT. In fact, Izzard was in reception right now… maybe Tarrant could pop down and see him…
But the agent was out all day. About 5.30pm I was phoning up the office pretending to be him – his name was Harold – never having heard him. “Hello Shirley, it’s Harold.” “Hello Harold.” Pause. ”Which Harold is this?” “Oh… oh…” And I hung up. After a long day’s nothing, I hitchhiked back to Sheffield. My dad recently said, “You always had stupid ideas – but now some of them have worked.”
Eddie Izzard is filming Every Day and the next instalment of The Chronicles of Narnia
Leave a Reply
Ink Publishing 2010. All Rights Reserved