Saturday July 21, 1979

_. Sue's twentieth birthday. I attempted to phone home all day but failed miserably. Had difficulties with the international code system and made three calls accidentally to Whitby 4302. From Ibiza to Whitby, just 70 miles out. Poor Sue will wonder what has befallen me. Bless her, she's getting engaged too.

I went into San Antonio and bought a Hawaiian-style shirt for 1400 pesetas. What the Hell anyway?

At 4pm Dave, Janice and I decided to crack open a bottle of gin, several bottles of wine, and a selection of squashes. A miserable sort of birthday party in Susan's honour. Billy and Garry came in and we played 'This is Your Life' and 'Blankety Blank' and other party games. I was Eammon Andrews and Terry Wogan. Dave played Lord Mountbatten in 'This Is Your Life' and Janice shone as Des O'Connor's daughter. You know the one I mean.

-=-

Monday December 11, 1978

Wedwood Benn: future prime minister

I am very worried about Anthony Wedgwood Benn. The Daily Mail seems to think that this man is a future Prime Minister and this really worries me ~ especially at breakfast time when I am inclined to fits of morose depression. I left for the YP with a black cloud hanging over me. What's the bloody point in carrying on when communism, decay and drab uniformity lie at the end of life's sombre pathway?

Rang Janet at WH Smith's and told her to go ahead for the booking of the Ibiza '79 holiday. At lunch I dashed to the closest travel agent and picked up a Thomson's brochure to look at the Hotel Galfi. It seems quite nice. It only has 40 bedrooms. Phoned Dave G tonight. We laughed. After two hours at the Galfi everyone will know us intimately. He's going to see Garry later. Bill is dead chuffed about the whole business. The nasty part about it is that Smith's want a £20 deposit from all of us by the weekend. I collected some coach tour brochures for Mum and she fancies a trip to Yugoslavia next June as part of her Silver Wedding celebrations. Disgraceful that she wants to spend a holiday in the Eastern bloc alliance. It is no idea of fun to me. I suppose Mr Benn and his leftie pals from the House of Commons spend holidays in the Warsaw Pact countries, but Michael Rhodes never shall. President Tito can go piss off.

Saw Monty Python on the BBC followed by a Jane Fonda film. To bed hideously tired at 12:30.

-=-

Thursday July 20, 1978

Our last full day in San Antonio. Tonight we went out to celebrate Sue's birthday. Chippy and Gus met a group of girls from Dublin, and Dave and I, Sue and Pete chatted with Ken and a couple of girls, whose names escape me, in the bar at the El Capone.

At 11:30pm the four of us said godbye to Jed and Co and we headed for the square near the fountains. At the stroke of midnight Sangria was ordered and we prepared for our last serious drink of the holiday. Isn't it ghastly?

-=-

Sunday July 16, 1978

Pam, who came (to Ibiza) the same day as we did with an open ticket until October, packed up and returned to Nottingham today because she is so disillusioned with Rick & Co. She's sad about how San Antonio has altered over the past couple of years. How can Nottingham be better! My God, things must be bad if the likes of Pam pack up after just one week. She took Chippy on one side and bought him a drink and we all said goodbye. Jed took her luggage to the airport and off she went ~ leaving her address and phone number with Chippy.

Nasty incident in the square in San Antonio tonight. Peter insulted a party of Germans, who took it very well and just laughed at him. Oh the embarrassment. He kept insisting that they (the Germans) should be gassed, their skin made into handbags and lamp shades, &c. Quite terrible. Dave G was furious. Sue went off home in disgust.

-=-

Friday July 14, 1978

I had very little sleep. My shoulders are greeny yellow, and pouring with guck. My first action today was to consult Dr Chippy. He came to my room, clad only in his underpants, and carrying a tube of magic, white powder, a series of needles and anti-septic cream. I almost fainted. He burst my remaining blisters and then we made our way to the bar to get properly anaesthetised.

Yesterday "Doctor" Chippy was the hero of the hour on the beach when he put a dislocated shoulder back into position following a 'tug~of~war' accident on the beach. He was immediately acclaimed as the "Beach Party Doctor" and Pam, for one, looked at him with doe~eyed wonderment and affection assuring his chances with her this night.

Why is it that women fall for medical men? Even men like Chippy who only look after mental patients?

I met Jacq a year ago today in the El Capone Bar, or was it the Pavement?

-=-

Wednesday July 12, 1978

Orangemen's Day

Bank Holiday Northern Ireland

After deposting Tina at her hotel and arranging to meet her at 10pm tonight I drifted back to the S'Estanyol and changed into my beach wear and flat cap and went out into the sun.

Sue and Pete came down for breakfast and discovered me ~the solitary sunbather ~ quite alone on the sand. Dave came down later and suggested going for a drink. What a bloody good idea. We went to Hilary's cafe and knocked back pints of beer in the shade of a palm tree for the morning.

After lunch we moved to the bar on the beach. I was sloshed out of my brains by now. After all, I'd had no sleep and this Jagermeister is something of an unknown quantity. Pam and Rick were in the bar. They think we are pissed all the time.

I was in no fit state to meet Tina and at her hotel she played 'hard to get' and said she was wasn't leaving the hotel until midnight and going straight to the Playboy club. I waved bye bye to this one. Nobody mucks me about. So once again I'm playing the field. Once again this delectable human being is unattached and on his own.

-=-

Tuesday July 11, 1978

I think we went by boat to Cala Conta. Previous holidays have never been quite so hot as this one. It's unbearable.

Tonight Gus, Chippy and I ended up in Es Paradis again, but when Chippy fell in love and asked one of the local women to marry him I'd had enough and proceeded to set out on foot in a homeward direction. It was after 3am anyway.

Wending my way across San Antonio I had the fortune to overtake what I mistook to be a party of German ladies, and as I passed by the ring leader, in husky tones, said: "Keep on swinging, man", at which they all fell about in hysterics. I immediately set upon them, and they linked arms with me and I escorted them to their hotel. A taxi came to a grinding halt and out leapt Gus and Chippy, who accosted a couple of the girls for themselves. However, I hung on to the attractive spokesperson called Tina with the deep voice, who informed me that they are in fact Dutch.

We went with the ladies to their hotel and Tina emerged into the garden ( or whatever you call the bit of patio around the swimming pool) with a bottle of Jagermeister, a Dutch liqueuer I think. After half an hour or so we were thrown out because of the noise and we took the bottles to the beach and did Travolta-like dancing on the sand. Horribly pissed. Chippy, Gus and their ladies disappeared leaving Tina and I alone to do a spot of of bathing. At 8am I took her back to her hotel.

-=-

Sunday July 9, 1978

7th Sunday after Trinity

At about 10am we decided it was much too hot to lay around on a beach all day and somebody suggested that we might hire push bikes and go for a tour of the island. We rolled up at the bike place and were fitted up with machines (except Dave) and we shot off in the direction of Port d'es Torrent.

Tonight a wonderful thing happened. In the El Capone bar we bumped into Pam, from Nottingham, who worked with Rick in the 1976 season. We leapt around screaming and laughing and made our ritual trip to Es Paradis. She took an immediate fancy to Chippy, whom she insisted on calling 'Gerald' or 'Gerry'. They wandered off together leaving Gus and I leaping around like fools on the dance floor. Oh it was great.

-=-

Friday July 7, 1978

The flight was without incident other than Peter's blunder with the seat numbers which had us trailing up and down the aircraft aimlessly looking for seats 9A, B, C & D. Sue slept for part of the journey, & I don't think she enjoyed it. The little pet looked worried.

The time of our arrival escapes me but by 5:30 or 6am we were at the Hotel S'Estanyol waiting in the foyer to be allocated our rooms. Chippy and Gus walked out of the front door and onto the beach to indulge in a spot of nude bathing.

-=-

Tuesday May 23, 1978

Phoned Christine this afternoon and laughed about the usual things.

The so-called bus strike ended. It is estimated that it will cost ratepayers £1,000,000. I got an infernal omnibus to Guiseley for the first time in many weeks.

This evening I phoned Dave G to say the bill from Global Travel is finally in my hands. The holiday this year will cost us £176 (approx) each, and to think that in 1971 I went to Interlaken, Switzerland for a mere £40.

Dave was fine. He's looking forward with almost an insane passion to the San Antonio jaunt ~ in about seven weeks time.

Mother is still in one of her 'let's all moan at Michael' moods which doesn't do much for my patience or temper. It is equally infuriating to see Lawrence Rhodes, PC 1656, sitting through the barrage of abusive, slanderous drivel as though he is stone deaf.

I think you now have a clear picture that life isn't all roses and pea wine here at Pine Tops. However, I suppose things could be much, much worse. __________.

Whilst Her Majesty the Queen is in Bonn, over in London Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon are about to be divorced. The petition is due to be heard tomorrow and the £16 'quickie' will set a precedent in the Royal House of Windsor that will not please many people. If I were a bishop I can tell you that I'd be bombarding The Times with lengthy epistles on the sanctity of family life.

-=-

Sunday July 24, 1977

7th after Trinity. Up at about ten to pack. Martyn is nowhere to be seen. A search of the hotel finds him with a bird from Otley in her room. Our room is in a diabolical condition. A red wine stain three feet high runs round the bottom of the bedroom walls. Booze and broken bottles all over the floor.

Slumbering at the airport

I loathe going home. Left for the airport at 12 noon and had hysterics on the coach with Kathyn. At Ibiza Airport we are told to prepare for an indefinite delay due to some sort of mechanical problem on board our aircraft. Allcock & Brown made their historic flight in this self same bone-shaker.

I got blind drunk. Disgustingly so. I stole a bottle of gin from the airport bar and drank most of it myself. Needless to say I vomited. My recollections of the journey home are somewhat vague other than drinking a couple of whiskies and, according to Peter Mather, fondling the air hostess.

Tony picked us up at Manchester and brought me home at about 1am. Still intoxicated.



-=-

Saturday July 23, 1977

Our last full day. We spent the whole time on the beach to reap the benefit of our last touch of Spanish sun. Even at 5.30 when very few remained I clung to my hammock. Jacqui was with us all day.

By 6pm I was in San Antonio buying bottles of drink for Mama and a straw handbag for Darling Sue's birthday.

Group at the Hotel Pacific.

Back at the hotel having a quiet ale by the pool I was approached by a gorgeous dolly bird who wanted to know if I fancied accompanying her on an open jeep tour of San Antonio. Naturally, I was late back for dinner.

Our last wild night. To the Pavement Bar and met Jacqui and Joy. Noel and I walked them to the Hotel March and bid them a fond farewell, probably forever. The coach taking them to Ibiza Airport disappeared in a cloud of dust, and Noel and I returned to the Pavement Bar.

Had a party in my room which was riotous.Wine women and song galore. What must the other residents of the hotel have thought? It must have been about 4am when I got rid of everyone.

-=-

Friday July 22, 1977

Felt beastly today over my behaviour last night. However, if one can't get pissed up and fall about kicking the hell out of people on holiday when indeed can one?

L to R: Chris, Martyn, Noel, Mig, John and Steve.

Oh God the time is running out fast. Two weeks gone just like that. The real painful thought is that it's probably the last wild fling until Christmas.

Oops. I haven't mentioned the change of ink, have I?

Out on the town tonight with Noel again. Met Jacqui and Joy.  Went to the Continental restaurant and bid farewell to a couple of lads from Brighton, Glen and Mick, and then on to Chac Mool and Playboy.

-=-

Thursday July 21, 1977

Mig bewigged ....

Rick's beach party again. A really rough passage and most people didn't drink because of the ghastly rolling and swaying. However, I did manage to drink several bottles of champagne and white wine.

Noel found a wig and we fooled around - we looked remarkably like Elizabeth Taylor. Back at the hotel at about 7.30 and waited half an hour for Sue's call to come through. It was fabulous to hear her little voice all those miles away. It's her 18th (birthday) today of course. Mum says she's missing me. David B's grandmother died on July 15.

Evening: can't remember much really but I pissed off Noel and John's balcony all over the Laker Holiday representative and then went out hand-in-hand with Noel (he still dressed as Elizabeth Taylor).

Became so intoxicated that for the first time ever I became violent. Chris said something which angered me and I lashed out at him and floored him and little Anne in the process. Can I be excused because of the drink? No, not really.








=-

Tuesday July 19, 1977

The lads from Brighton.....

A good day.

Friday July 15, 1977

Hot day doing little other than muck about in the sun. Tonight Noel and I met Jacqui and Joy again and became quite pissed.

Martyn's note.

Arriving back at the Pacific (Hotel) I found  the note (left) glued to the door of my room with 'Mum' rollette deodorant.

One night is quite acceptable but two is pushing it a bit far, don't you think? I took a flying kick at the door and then found refuge in Noel's bedroom.
















-=-

Thursday July 14, 1977

Rick's boat trip. A great piss up. I misplaced my El Capone T-shirt and the sunglasses I acquired here last year.

In the Pavement Bar tonight Noel and I met a couple of girls, Jacqueline Sate, of 102 Grosvenor Road, Muswell Hill, London N10, and a marvellous little mover who strongly resembles Sandie Shaw, called Joy.

Es Paradis, San Antonio, Ibiza.

The four of us went to Es Paradis and Playboy One. Much alcohol. Great dancing done. At Es Paradis I met a German in the toilet who took me for a Spanish flamenco dancer. I made a quick escape when he fell down over a sink pulling it from the wall. In the bar I said I was Felipe de Borbon, heir to the Spanish throne. It didn't get any of us a free drink. Hysteria was had by all.

Martyn asked me to sleep in Noel's room because he wants to entertain a blond girl from Stevenage for the night. I readily agreed. He's only young once.

-=-

Monday July 11, 1977

On the town in Ibiza with Noel Pilling (left) and John Grady (centre)

Go all over the bars in San Antonio and end up with John (Prince Charles) at Nito's with two German ladies, Brunhilda and 'Sicklinda' - God knows how you go about spelling that (Sieglinde?). We walked them to a grotty hotel and sat outside drinking some cheap brandy and Coca Cola - more brandy than coke. I accidentally dropped a lit cig down my shoe and burned my foot. Agony is hardly the word for it.






-=-

Monday January 17, 1977

Did you realise that the author of this diary was - or is - an out and out coward? Just nod your head if this notion has crossed your mind at some stage or other in the past four years. Good.

At work today I was in a terrible state. At death's door. Runny nose, sore throat, wet eyes, sneezing bouts, the bloody lot, and on top of all this I wanted to ring Lynne to tell her that I do not want to go out with her anymore. Awful eh? I even took a couple of 10p pieces and nipped down to a public phone downstairs (at the YP) but when Lynne answered I just dried up and made polite conversation. At 12.30 Sarah gave me the dispensation to go home - the sweet thing - and by 2.30pm I was tucked up in my bed with something hot. Slept until 6.30 and then went down and ate a plate full of stew.

Hotel Pacific, San Antonio, Ibiza.

 I contacted Denise today. We cannot get in at the Hotel March (in San Antonio) with Club 18-30, but she's reserved seven places at the Hotel Pacific. Later tonight I rang Chris and Dave G, and then Glenn rang me. Chris mentions the Riviera but tomorrow I'll get him fully on our side. Tony rings to say he has a lousy cold. Lynne came at 8.30 and stayed until about 10. She can be very sweet and nice but I think _____.I have a fear about finishing with anyone after the 'Miss Phillips incident'. Don't I get myself into some messes? -==-

Friday November 26, 1976

In bed until 11.30 when I'm stirred from my slumbers by the soddin' butcher with Mama's meat order. Still, I've had a good few extra hours 'neath the sheets. Listen to the record player until lunchtime and then leap into a good hot bath. Something of great importance about next years holiday. Late last night I received a phone call from Dave in Stockport asking if he and Glen can come over tomorrow. Great news. They'll be here at 4pm and they hope to stay until Sunday. It certainly looks as though they'll be booking with us for 1977 and a holiday in San Antonio again. We can't go in early June of course because of the Silver Jubilee lark. What about David L too? Martyn, Peter and Chris are the other likely holidaymakers. [This] subject is not yet mentioned to Lynne, but no doubt she'll be too busy saving for her Renault, or whatever car it is, to be interested of my whereabouts in July. Anyway, summer is one hell of a long way off and you all know only too well what I'm like with women.

Work at 5pm. Not feeling too good. Hope it isn't salmonella food poisoning. Quiet night at the YP with no historic news coming in. Saddened however to read in one of the gossip columns that Sir Harold W[ilson] may well be quitting the Commons to go an lecture in Israel. Talk about deserting the sinking ship! Home at 11.30 and watch a revolting film on Rasputin. It's completely distorted and ridiculous. I think a Hammer film.

-==-