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?

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Wednesday July 19, 1978

Dave G goes frying chickens with Jed and the Rick Organisation. Ken was greatly impressed and he offered Dave a position with them next year. He didn't commit himself. He must be raving mad. I'd leap at the chance to evacuate England and so too would Dave when it comes down to it.

Back at the hotel Dave asked me: "How about next year, then?". I was stunned really because I never thought they'd accept me but Dave seems to think they were so impressed with his display of 'chefmanship' that we could both come out next season on our own terms. Who knows?

I can see difficulties ___________________.

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Tuesday July 18, 1978

Things have been different {on holiday} this year than I would have imagined. ________.

Monday July 17, 1978

Dave, Sue, Pete and I went by bus to Ibiza Town and then on to Portinatx. The latter is a quiet but beautiful place surrounded by hills and with a wonderful coastline. It's just the place for Lynn and Dave and an ideal place for a honeymoon. We managed to get a few photos of the place and three or four of the hotels, but I couldn't remember the name of the place where Lynn and Dave are booked in. We only spent a couple of hours there. I had to keep my shoulders shrouded.

Dave G's been invited by Jed to accompany him to a barbecue on Wednesday to roast about 150 chickens for the beach party, and if it's a success who knows what might happen? Dave would love to come and work in Ibiza, but he needs the push ~ like we all do. I'm sure he wouldn't come out here alone, but with an able bodied assistant chef who knows where it might lead?

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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.

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Saturday July 15, 1978

St. Swithun's Day. It didn't rain in Ibiza. In fact, from the look of things I don't think it has rained here for years. Never before have I suffered so much from the heat. Even Dave G, who is terribly susceptible to the sun, is in a better state than me.

Have I mentioned that topless bathers are everywhere this year? A few dropped their bikini tops last year but this year it's easier to count the ladies with tops on rather than off. Sue, British to the end, absolutely refused to discard any essential items of clothing, and says she's proud of the fact she isn't a sheep. However, some of the females are ghastly and would look much better covered up. Chippy is very frustrated because he hasn't managed to get his end away with abybody. He says he's been out~classed by the jet~setters. Anyone with such a low opinion of themselves, and with such a defeatist attitude, doesn't deserve to get anywhere.

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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?

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