20100504

Tuesday August 26, 1975


I appear to have contracted a cold since coming home from sun-soaked Majorca. My throat feels like its been cut, and my head is completely blocked. Lots of people seem to be suffering from similar ailments at the moment and I'm sick and tired of standing around listening to people saying: "Oh, something's wrong when you get colds in the middle of summer." &c, &c. I absolutely refuse to believe that the weather controls, or is in any way involved, with illnesses, death, or anything else remotely connected with the human metabolism. Poppycock and balderdash.

You aren't going to believe this, but while we were away _______ began making visits to Pine Tops once again. I nearly fell over laughing when Mum told me what excuse my beloved ____ used on being asked why she hadn't communicated with us since Christmas. It was 'Oh, I've been too busy doing a lot of baking.' Actually ______ is in Highroyds suffering from a mental disorder and the whole family seems to have lost weight and seelp over it. They came at about 8 after visiting ______, and I did notice a marked difference in ____, who looked considerably thinner. ____is becoming colossal - a mixture between Tessie O'Shea and Hattie Jacques, all rolled in with Princess Mary Adelaide, Duchess of Teck.

-==-

Monday August 25, 1975


Holiday in England, N. Ireland & Wales. Back to the office. Ugh. The fact that it's Bank Holiday Monday makes it worse because the thought of everyone staying in bed until noon whilst I struggled across a deserted town was far from pleasant.

See Sarah and Kathleen and they both agree that I'm a tremendous colour. Work until 1pm and then Kathleen lets me go. I get the 55 bus with Sarah and arrive home at about 2 o'clock. The weather is still quite warm, but I don't sit out in it when I arrive home. I've had enough after 2 weeks in Majorca and 2 full weeks lying around in the sun.

Sue is watching a rotten film starring W.C. Fields, which is cronic. I devour beans on toast, and then see a Marx Brothers film 'Duck Soup' which is hilarious in parts.
Groucho should be knighted in the New Year's Honours list. If Charlie Chaplin can be (knighted), I fail to see why Groucho can't.

No much in the news whilst I've been away. Some nutter saw fit to dig up the Headingley cricket pitch in the middle of the Test Match, which seems a bit of a silly thing to do, and the historic event to beat all other historic events is the re-union of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. They're going to re-marry, and at the moment they're carrying on like a pair of 16 year-olds with the first pangs of love!

-==-

Sunday August 24, 1975


13th after Trinity. Down to the Commercial at lunchtime. Just John and I that is, where we met Andy and Keith, and a snobby friend of Andy's. The pint of lager was something of an anti-climax, because I've been longing for a drop of English ale for two weeks, and this tasted no different to the German brew, flowing like water across Spain.

People were eyeing my tan with more than a hint of jealousy. Neither Andy or Keith stayed until 2. They left before closing time!

After lunch (with wine) John and I went down to Maria's where I met Carole for the first time in a month. She really is a gorgeous looking thing, and trendy too. She reminds me of one of those models on the cover of a girls magazine. Go on, I know what you're thinking: 'Oh no, he's infatuated again'. Well, probably I am.

Mum and Dad are on an excursion of South Yorkshire, and Lynn and Dave are watching TV. At 8.30 John drives me to Maria's where I meet Carole and then set off to Christine D's on Thorpe Lane. Mrs Dibb takes the three of us to the Hare & Hounds. See all the mob and stand close to Carole all night. It was awful when CB said she was jealous of us. I'm speechless, because when I was free to go out with her (CB that is) she wouldn't.

-==-

Saturday August 23, 1975



Homeward bound. Up with the larks at 7am, and sit about nervously for one and a half hours until the coach comes. John and Chris went down for breakfast, but I couldn't possibly face it. I sat in the empty lounge watching the rain and the waves crashing upon the beach, and the wind howling around the swimming pool and thinking to myself 'Oh God, will the plane make it?' We leave for Palma on the coach at 8.30 and we sit on the back seat along with Gary, Beaky, and Casanova, which is quite a laugh.

On our arrival in rain-soaked Palma we are met by Prince Juan Carlos who says he's sorry that General Franco couldn't come in person to see us off personally, but at 82 years-old he feels too frail to chase about airport forecourts, which is quite understandable really. After the military band send off we're flying at 27,000 feet over Europe at an air speed of 480MPH. We have whisky on the flight, and I feel quite sick over France, but the highlight of the whole thing was landing. Over the Channel John and Chris wanted to go to the bog, and so I pinched Chris's window seat and saw the south of England and London from 30,000 feet up. A tremendous sight. A few people looked queazy, but I managed to keep everything down.

Chris got a coach to King's Cross and John and I were left to find our own way out of Heathrow, which was an aggravating hours chase. After getting a bus to Victoria we find we have four hours to kill in London. Buckingham Palace, No 10, Downing Street, the Houses of Parliament, St James's Park, and God knows how many other places came under our exhausted gaze, and we were so glad to see the coach at 6pm. Four hours and 10 minutes later Mum and Dad met us in Leeds, and 20 minutes after that we were at Pine Tops. Lynn and Dave, Sue and Peter came on the scene minutes later, and we all tucked in to a decent bit of Mama's cooking. After dishing out the bottles (of duty frees) we proceeded to empty a few, and I rolled into bed at 1.30. To quote Casanova: "Well, it's certainly nice to be here." And I think that sums it all up.

-==-

Friday August 22, 1975


Our last day here, and what sort of weather do you think we had? Well, I'll tell you. It rained, and rained, and absolutely pissed it down all day long, and the three of us sat around in the bar ridding ourselves of our last few pesetas on drink.
The German party got themselves into a drunken state, but I suppose they do it without thinking. The licensing laws in 'bier' swilling Hamburg will differ somewhat to those in Harrogate.

After dinner we sit with Sue and Jackie (the sheilas from London) but John and Chris tire easily of their company, leaving me with two drunken women on my hands. Before I know what is happening they have me on my feet and are dragging me off to the Caracola Club, where they proceed to pay my admission. I didn't really want to stay long because of the travelling tomorrow and so I sneaked out at about 1.30, knowing I'd never see any of them again. Sad, really.

Oh, by the way: the big, blue lounger with Queen Anne legs was deposited by me into the lift and despatched to the ground floor in the early hours of Aug 23rd. It finished off my evening nicely.

-==-

20100430

Thursday August 21, 1975


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.

-==-

20100429

Wednesday August 20, 1975


Up at 8.30 - long before the other two and I find that it's a really hot morning. After sitting with a drink for a few minutes I decide to go for a walk along the beach, which takes about one hour. Th sun burns my shoulders, and the pain is unbearable when I had to put a shirt on when I came back for lunch.

See in the papers that the phone calls to Princess Anne are just anonymous, and not obscene. The full extent of the popularity of the British Royal Family is brought home when one sees headlines about Princess Anne on a German daily newspaper.

On my favourite subject, I don't think I've mentioned the fact that the Queen will celebrate her Silver Jubilee in 1977, in the style celebrated by George V in 1935. She (the Queen) has made it quite clear, however, that no due expense will be lavished upon the pageant which will take place in the summer and not on February 6, which is the actual accession day.

Went to a few different bars in the evening and didn't see Diane or Denise. Came back to the hotel at 10.30 to bid our farewells to Ivy, Cyril, Ken and Doris, who leave Palma at midnight. Chris, John and I then move on to the Caracola Club for the last time - we're doing something completely different tomorrow.

-=-

Sunday April 1, 1984

 4th Sunday in Lent Mothering Sunday New Moon Sunny, bright, &c. Smothering Sunday. All Fool's Day. Busy. Rob came and so too did th...