Friday July 27, 1979

_. Tonight Ally and I had a drink with Sue and Pete at the Commercial and then went on to Bradford. Peter refuses to drive into Leeds or Bradford, and so Ally drove there in the style of the late Donald Campbell. We were stopped just outside Shipley by an amiable police constable who lectured Ally for ten minutes about motoring at 50 mph in a 30 mph area. He was a decent chap, and let her off with nothing more than a warning.

She took us to view the little house on Club Street, and from there we went on to a house party. Very unimpressed by the other party-goers. Fuddy duddy characters. The majority worked for Bradford Health Authority, and I bet most of them were mortuary staff. I took a litre bottle of dry Martini, but by 4:30am it was there in the kitchen untouched, and so I took it out and popped it into the Spitfire. Is this ethical? I had been hitting the vodka and so my sense of right and wrong had vanished. Oh, and we also came away with a little green Chinese dragon.

We left the party at 5am and went for a paddle in a stream on Ilkley Moor until 8am. Exhaused.

Thursday July 26, 1979

_. Maria's 21st birthday today. We didn't see her. I think John was taking her out for dinner.

Didn't get into the YP until 9:30 and tempers there were frayed. For £45 a week I think I have every right to pinch the occasional hour here and there. Sarah, seeing my depression, gave comforting words. Lynn just needs time, she says. Delia has given me a photo of the two of us at Ivory Towers last September. Sarah says one of Delia's legendary luncheon parties is imminent.

David B came to help Dad and Jim welding on the car. Constantly welding. It baffles me.

-=-

Wednesday July 25, 1979

_. Susan and Peter's engagement party at the R.A.O.B. Club in Otley. Seventy, or so, guests too numerous to mention here and piles of food which lasted until dawn.

Saw Gus and Frank for the first time since January. Dave Wainwright took a fancy to cousin Diane. All the Gadsby family were there in force, of course.

Home at 12. Drank gallons of beer. Played 'pass the carrot' and 'pass the cucumber', and 'pass the can of Brasso', &c. Auntie Hilda laughed until she cried. However, I cannot remember the evening with happiness because of what followed. Lynn had a burst of hysterics like I had never seen before, and stormed out saying she was 'sick to death of this family'. ___________.

-=-

Tuesday July 24, 1979

_. At 7pm went to Ridgeway to see my baby niece Catherine for the first time. Like a tiny doll and perfect in every way. When I held her she opened her eyes and peeped out at me, but only briefly. John had been painting the house and looked like the Abominable Snowman. He never fusses around babies. I think he was the same with JPH. It's not until they toddle around destroying things that he delights in their company. He and Maria had 'fallen out' on Saturday and relations have been strained since - according to Maria - but I'm sure they delight in ceaseless bickering. Jim Senior made some comment about them smashing the bathroom window during one of their tiffs.

At 8:30 I went with a gathering of the Macdonald clan to the Hare & Hounds. Jimmy Jun, Karim, Libby, Maria, John and I. Libby has a tremendous sense of humour. We discussed the film 'Death in Venice'. I quipped: "Isn't that one of Shakespeare's?" The depravity of composers was another topic. Tchaikovsky came off worst, I fear. I told Libby that Grieg had been born in Bradford, and in his youth had worked on the buses, but of course that was Delius. Back to Ridgeway until after 12.

-=-

Monday July 23, 1979

_. Eventually climbed out of bed at about 11am and waited for Garry and Bill. The bar was open but neither Dave or I could face having a drink. Garry came in saying his car is 'off the road', and so Dave offered to drive me home. ___________.

Home by 2pm. Mum looks well. She filled us in with all the news and gossip which took us until about 5pm. Poor little Catherine has a heart defect of some kind - probably a hole in the heart. Maria took both babies to the RC church yesterday at Burley-in-Wharfedale and had them christened. It is a sad thought on which to reflect that my tiny, innocent niece is banned by law from ever becoming Queen of England.

Susan and Peter are having an engagement party at Otley on Wednesday night. Dave G cannot make it.

Billy is shattered by the Ibiza experience and has vowed never to go on holiday with us again. They, the lads, stayed to tea, and left for Stockport at about 7pm.

Ally was particularly shy, and dashed off for a sauna with Sue. Susie's hair is permed again.

-=-

to be continued

Sunday July 22, 1979

_. 6th Sunday after Trinity

The saddest day of the holiday. We hung around the pool for most of the day just waiting to go home. Spending our last few pesetas on booze and ham and cheese toasties. The flies hanging over the hotel are nauseating. We laugh and say that 'Eva Braun' (the manageress) must be breeding them (the flies) in canisters and releasing them from a high balcony onto the distraught holidaymakers. Chat with Anne and Lorraine. They've avoided us for two weeks. Stuck up sods really. I snapped away with my camera like Lord Snowdon in an attempt to use up my film.

Left at 7pm-ish for the airport although we didn't fly until 10. Ate roast beef and carrots at 35,000 ft. Peculiar, eh?

We landed in Birmingham at about midnight and sat amongst the litter and Commonwealth immigrants faced with the knowledge that we were stranded here until about 8am. Billy refused to accept this and hailed a taxi. It cost us £40 from Birmingham Airport to Stockport. "Oh, it's not bad!" exclaimed Dave, as we sat in silence. "It would have cost just as much by train, anyway."

Hit Stockport at 2am. Greeted by Lily and a toothless granddad. Downed three bottles of Coca Cola in the Hollywood bar. Oh God, we're home. Bed at 2:45am.

-=-

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.

-=-

Friday July 20, 1979

_. Knackered all day. Went shopping with Billy. Cut my finger on a pop bottle in one of those abominable Spanish supermarkets. It was Billy's object to buy lots of gifts for his numerous relations at home but on returning to the Galfi he had only purchased forty Embassy cigarettes.

To bed at 3pm until 7, and then out on the town until 3am.

-=-

Thursday July 19, 1979

_. Stayed in San Antonio. Drank vast amounts in the beach bar. Billy left his teeth back at the hotel because they need a good cleaning and he caused a minor sensation parading in the sand in Nicola's sun hat. His sun-tanned gums went down a treat with the naked Swedish girls.

-=-

Wednesday July 18, 1979

_. Today was just a replica of yesterday in almost every detail, but for the fact that I wore different clothes in the evening and Billy failed to do his 'drunken man falling over in the street' routine. The sun shone so very nicely too.

-=-

Tuesday July 17, 1979

_. To the beach in San Antonio. Went out on a pedalo with Billy and Garry. Billy loved it, and was like a small child. He says coming to Ibiza was worth it just for the experience.

OK Coral again. Billy collapsed, yet again. Will he survive the holiday? Forget his 80 year-old mother.

Dave is with Janice (again). She is very pleasant and quickly adapting to David's sense of humour. Poor girl.

-=-

Monday July 16, 1979

_. Last night Garry took the horrible Nicola back to the hotel for a 'knock-off'. Dave escorted Janice. I went to the Chac Mool with some Swedish lads and smoked something which wasn't from a cigarette machine. Very amusing.

Garry was nowhere to be seen this morning and so I accompanied David, Janice and Nicola to Cala Bassa. David, the stupid sod, has fallen in love with Janice. Nicola almost sank the small ferry boat, full of beautiful people.

We found a quiet stretch of beach where I proceeded to sleep on my beach mat. David and Janice disappeared into the bushes. Nicola has thighs reminiscent of the large oak tree in Sherwood Forest where Robin Hood was supposed to have lodged. White too, and slightly more gnarled than Robin's oak. The worst bit was was when she took a dip in the ocean. The Med rose by 6 feet and tidal waves swept the Adriatic coast. _________.

To the OK Coral with the Swedish mob again. Pissed up. Garry's knock-off was Nicola again. How can he?

-=-

Sunday July 15, 1979

_. 5th Sunday after Trinity.

I pissed the bed, like a three year old. I'm not in the least bit embarrassed because if you can't pay £180.70 to piss the bed once a year, when can you?

We stayed around the pool until about 11 and then I went with Garry by ferry to San Antonio where we walked in the harbour before making for a bar and drinking pints for five or six hours. Discussed all manner of things. He says that Billy will kill himself when his aged mother dies. He says Billy is not enjoying the holiday because he cannot keep up with us younger ones. At 40 he's bloody past it.

Back at the Galfi we had just missed a full scale drama. Billy had been thrown, naked, into the pool and as he is unable to swim he caused a major brouhaha. He had been banished to his room by Philip II's ambassador to the Court of St James's. Poor Billy had almost drowned and Dave was close to hysterics.

Tonight we met a couple of new inmates at the hotel - Janice and Nicola, from Snaith near Goole. Janice isn't a beauty, but is pleasant, and Nicola is simply monstrous. We all went out to the Los Gatos together. Billy did his Ian Dury routine and then collapsed. We put him into a taxi and packed him off to the hotel in one Hell of a state. A party of Swedes mistook him for Marty Feldman.

-=-

Saturday July 14, 1979

_. Up at 8:30 and out before any of the bars had opened. Something of a 'first' for me. I felt ghastly from the booze and cigarettes and could not have stayed in bed a minute longer.

Went to the cheapest bar in San Antonio - Los Gatos. Met up with a crowd of drunken Glaswegians, vomiting in the streets after an excess of Herbas. Saw Ian Wallace, the Coventry City and Scottish international footballer. He was pink and pissed, and on the arm of a revolting tart. Why do footballers always marry at 19, and to some ghastly painted whore? Evidently, Wallace has been to Argentina and made a dreadful mess of everything.

Scotland 0, Ibiza 36.

-=-