Another real scorcher. I shouldn't even bother mentioning the weather because a good climate is the only thing possible in Majorca.
As usual I'm up well before the others and after drinking my traditional cold drink I go rouse them and demand immediate liveliness from both the defendants. At 12 we set off on a walk round the bay which takes us to a desolate spot miles away from all life and civilisation. The scenery is fantastic, and the cacti grows in profusion. The heat was unbearable though and when I staggered back two and a half hours later I could hardly force my lunch down. Flaking out on a bed in a darkened room is hardly the proper was to spend an afternoon on holiday, but hey, if you can't do it on holiday, when can you?
After the traditional evening in the Manchester Arms, Chris and John went down to the Don Jaime Discotheque, whilst I, accompanied by Diane and Denise of course, trotted off to the Charlie Felipe Cafe. After consuming endless pints of lager I dragged the girls to the Don Jaime where we passed a miserable couple of hours. Not a particularly thrilling place. John and Chris left before I did, and when I did eventually roll in I brought with me a 6ft long sun lounger (blue, with Queen Anne legs) and I deposited it slap bang in the middle of the balcony.