A terrible drunken occassion. At 7.30 we, that is John, Chris, me and 30 others from the hotel went to the Barbecue. When I say 'the barbecue' I mean the weekly piss-up in the open air for the tourists - the sort of thing that's the same at resorts all over Europe. John and Chris didn't get drunk at all, but I made friends with two sexy over-50s named Doris and Ivy, who bought me a bottle of local champagne, &c. Didn't feel too bad on the coach coming home, but after having had a pernod in the bar followed by a black coffee, I was quite ready for anything. Getting up to our room I happened to bump into the lads from next door, and they gave me a large glass of Tequilla. That finished me off, good and proper. After yelling abuse at a crowd of Germans I went on to vomit over the balcony and then fell through the french windows onto the floor. Insensible just isn't the word for it.
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
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Wednesday September 4, 1985
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Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...
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