Sunday November 21, 1982

 Last Sunday after Trinity

Up at 11:30. John and Sheila left to see friends for lunch at a distant hotel. We were invited to join them but dropped out when Sheila offered us the use of her car for the day. Ally drove to Puerto Del Carmen down a dusty cactus-lined road covered in picon [?] She didn't drive into the town but parked outside to avoid the law. We are not insured on Sheila's car, and Ally hasn't brought her driving licence. On the beach there for a couple of

hours. Hambugers and beer at a beach-side cafe, and then returned to the villa at 5 for a siesta. John and Sheila are back. Lunch was £12 and not spectacular. The dogs lick round us as though we've been away for six months. Drank tea on the terrace. They ar not great boozers. Siesta until 7:30. We lay whispering in bed. Dined at Caspar's (down near the harbour). The proprietress is a German baroness who looks like the girl in Abba, Frieda. Excellent dinner. We dined upstairs. The ferns however, were plastic. Pleasant chatter ranging from abysmal TV to the genius of Peter Sellers, and the adolescent-style behaviour of the adult Spanish. It's John's opinion that in a business conference with a Spaniard once they start playing with their genitals it's a sign that you (the Englishman) is heading for a victory in the negotiations. On to the Waikiki cocktail bar. Sheila insists the place is a homosexual haunt. Pina Coladas. Then the Beach Club disco. J & S left us at 3am. We had a few more drinks and walked back at 5am. Exhausted.

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