Chippy decided to take out a bloody massive motor bike and take me round the island. I wanted to see Portinatx to give Lynn & Dave a report. We hired one for the day for £7 each and shot off to the S'estanyol to persuade the others to get one.
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Sue and Dave decided to spend the duration in the bar getting pissed, which was fair enough, and Gus and Pete took out a pair of smaller bikes, and we set off in the direction of Ibiza town. I wasn't impressed with the place, and neither was I all that happy about hanging on the back of Chippy as he hurtled at 60 or so m.p.h. across the rough, unmade roads of Ibiza.
From Ibiza Town we headed out on the Portinatx but stopping at a cafe we were told we were 50 kilometres away and we decided over a Coca Cola that our fuel supplies wouldn't stretch that far. We headed back to San Antonio.
By lunchtime I'd had enough of motor cycling and called it a day. It had been exciting but I had had sufficient. He drove like Eddie Kidd with his pants on fire. Chippy cleared off for the remainder of the afternoon.
Sue and Dave were sunbathing at the hotel and not in the least pissed like they said they would be.
