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.

-=-