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.

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Friday July 21, 1978

Susan is 19 years old today. At midnight we celebrated in the square in San Antonio with Sangria and three hours later we were compelled by Herr Global to board a plane to Manchester.

Snatched from paradise ~ from the topless, bronzed, strawberry~eating jet~setters to the grey thighed typists of Leeds.

By 8:00am we were at the Hollywood Hotel drinking milky tea with Mrs Glynn. By 10 I was nestling in my mother's bossom at Pine Tops. The shock of this upheaval is no good for me at all.

One minute you're basking in the sun and the next your on a number 33 bus clad in oil~skins and furs with your toes going blue at the ends.

Mum, Dad and Lynn have been safely preserved these past two weeks. No scandal or idle gossip is forthcoming other than the sudden departure of Edith and Ernest to Paignton. They departed in a large black van on Monday morning and never even said goodbye. Mum and Dad are upset and stunned by this.

Tonght I met Jacq at 8:30 and we went to the Drop. _________________. We came back at 10:30 and she stayed the night.

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Wednesday July 19, 1978

Dave G goes frying chickens with Jed and the Rick Organisation. Ken was greatly impressed and he offered Dave a position with them next year. He didn't commit himself. He must be raving mad. I'd leap at the chance to evacuate England and so too would Dave when it comes down to it.

Back at the hotel Dave asked me: "How about next year, then?". I was stunned really because I never thought they'd accept me but Dave seems to think they were so impressed with his display of 'chefmanship' that we could both come out next season on our own terms. Who knows?

I can see difficulties ___________________.

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Tuesday July 18, 1978

Things have been different {on holiday} this year than I would have imagined. ________.

Monday July 17, 1978

Dave, Sue, Pete and I went by bus to Ibiza Town and then on to Portinatx. The latter is a quiet but beautiful place surrounded by hills and with a wonderful coastline. It's just the place for Lynn and Dave and an ideal place for a honeymoon. We managed to get a few photos of the place and three or four of the hotels, but I couldn't remember the name of the place where Lynn and Dave are booked in. We only spent a couple of hours there. I had to keep my shoulders shrouded.

Dave G's been invited by Jed to accompany him to a barbecue on Wednesday to roast about 150 chickens for the beach party, and if it's a success who knows what might happen? Dave would love to come and work in Ibiza, but he needs the push ~ like we all do. I'm sure he wouldn't come out here alone, but with an able bodied assistant chef who knows where it might lead?

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Sunday July 16, 1978

Pam, who came (to Ibiza) the same day as we did with an open ticket until October, packed up and returned to Nottingham today because she is so disillusioned with Rick & Co. She's sad about how San Antonio has altered over the past couple of years. How can Nottingham be better! My God, things must be bad if the likes of Pam pack up after just one week. She took Chippy on one side and bought him a drink and we all said goodbye. Jed took her luggage to the airport and off she went ~ leaving her address and phone number with Chippy.

Nasty incident in the square in San Antonio tonight. Peter insulted a party of Germans, who took it very well and just laughed at him. Oh the embarrassment. He kept insisting that they (the Germans) should be gassed, their skin made into handbags and lamp shades, &c. Quite terrible. Dave G was furious. Sue went off home in disgust.

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Thursday July 13, 1978

Beach party again. It's more of a rip off this year than ever with virtually no booze and Rick behaving like Adolf Hitler. Susis, bless her, says quite openly that Rick literally has "no balls". However, Gus and I have decided that he's got a brown painted hollow false leg down which he dangles all his equipment because quite frankly he does seem to be lacking in the trouser department. His voice isn't particularly high pitched, and by repute he seems to have success laying the female talent.

Sue enjoyed the boat trip and hit it off with Jed who called her "Skipper" (she was champ of the skipping contest which took place on the beach).

I rubbed oil into my shoulders (they'd peeled), and played around with a dog on the sand which had pinched one of my sandals. I was slightly sore. Coming back on the boat we got chatting with some ladies ~ one called Shelley ~ and we laughed about a couple sitting close by who were performing strange and wonderful things beneath a towel.

Later we met the girls at the El Capone and I latched onto Shelley. Gus's girl was really pretty and looked like an Edwardian gaeity girl. We took them to the Kings Bar and the Extasis. All was going well and then in a moment of passion Shelley grabbed my shoulders and green slime and pus oozed forth and squelched over my shirt. I was in absolute agony.


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Wednesday July 12, 1978

Orangemen's Day

Bank Holiday Northern Ireland

After deposting Tina at her hotel and arranging to meet her at 10pm tonight I drifted back to the S'Estanyol and changed into my beach wear and flat cap and went out into the sun.

Sue and Pete came down for breakfast and discovered me ~the solitary sunbather ~ quite alone on the sand. Dave came down later and suggested going for a drink. What a bloody good idea. We went to Hilary's cafe and knocked back pints of beer in the shade of a palm tree for the morning.

After lunch we moved to the bar on the beach. I was sloshed out of my brains by now. After all, I'd had no sleep and this Jagermeister is something of an unknown quantity. Pam and Rick were in the bar. They think we are pissed all the time.

I was in no fit state to meet Tina and at her hotel she played 'hard to get' and said she was wasn't leaving the hotel until midnight and going straight to the Playboy club. I waved bye bye to this one. Nobody mucks me about. So once again I'm playing the field. Once again this delectable human being is unattached and on his own.

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Monday July 10, 1978

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.

Friday July 7, 1978

The flight was without incident other than Peter's blunder with the seat numbers which had us trailing up and down the aircraft aimlessly looking for seats 9A, B, C & D. Sue slept for part of the journey, & I don't think she enjoyed it. The little pet looked worried.

The time of our arrival escapes me but by 5:30 or 6am we were at the Hotel S'Estanyol waiting in the foyer to be allocated our rooms. Chippy and Gus walked out of the front door and onto the beach to indulge in a spot of nude bathing.

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Thursday July 6, 1978

Last day at the YP for a fortnight.

At home I said goodbye to Mum and Dad and Lynn. They'd been to say farewell to Edith and Ernest, who leave for Paignton next week. No doubt we'll see them in September.

At 6:30 this evening went with Sue and Pete to the Shoulder of Mutton where we met Chippy & Gus for a few drinks before leaving for Stockport.

We went to Stockport at about 8 and stayed at the Hollywood for the evening. Bill and Garry made an appearance and once again my hair style was the focal point of the conversation.

I do not intend writing page after page for the two weeks I am away. Traditionally I write from notes as my journal hasn't travelled with me since 1976 when I'm sure _____________.

When the pub closed we hung around for about half an hour and then piled into taxis to Manchester Airport. Checked in at midnight. The sexy, blond air hostess informed us that the flight would be leaving slightly EARLY.

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Tuesday January 24, 1978

A provisional booking has been made at the Hotel S'Estanyol, San Antonio, but on the far side of the bay. Michelle's done really well to find places for 7 of us when everything is so booked up. I phoned Dave G who likes the idea but is unhappy with the flight times (1:30am going out, and 7:30am returning). Martyn is a different kettle of fish though. _____________.He is also unhappy with the dates (July 7-July 21) and says he'd prefer to go at the end of July. __________.

Got a letter from Jacqui. The party is still set for Feb 4, and Peter Sate's party is on March 18. I replied, but only in brief. I was in no corresponding frame of mind today.

Lady Jane Wellesley and the Prince of Wales.

Interesting items: Lady Jane Wellesley has been at Sandringham with the Prince of Wales over the weekend and was ferried about with much secrecy by the Queen. Will HRH be spliced by his 30th birthday? Oh God. After all I've said about Lady Jane. Poor Davina Sheffield - I always thought she would make a lovely fixture on the palace balcony.

Other news: Margaret Thatcher's voice has altered radically in recent times. In her three years as Conservative party leader the pitch of Mrs T's voice has changed from that high-pitched school ma'am drawl to one of depth, humour and level headedness. Am I perhaps imagining this?

Bed at 12 with Lord Peter Wimsey.

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Sunday July 24, 1977

7th after Trinity. Up at about ten to pack. Martyn is nowhere to be seen. A search of the hotel finds him with a bird from Otley in her room. Our room is in a diabolical condition. A red wine stain three feet high runs round the bottom of the bedroom walls. Booze and broken bottles all over the floor.

Slumbering at the airport

I loathe going home. Left for the airport at 12 noon and had hysterics on the coach with Kathyn. At Ibiza Airport we are told to prepare for an indefinite delay due to some sort of mechanical problem on board our aircraft. Allcock & Brown made their historic flight in this self same bone-shaker.

I got blind drunk. Disgustingly so. I stole a bottle of gin from the airport bar and drank most of it myself. Needless to say I vomited. My recollections of the journey home are somewhat vague other than drinking a couple of whiskies and, according to Peter Mather, fondling the air hostess.

Tony picked us up at Manchester and brought me home at about 1am. Still intoxicated.



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Thursday July 21, 1977

Mig bewigged ....

Rick's beach party again. A really rough passage and most people didn't drink because of the ghastly rolling and swaying. However, I did manage to drink several bottles of champagne and white wine.

Noel found a wig and we fooled around - we looked remarkably like Elizabeth Taylor. Back at the hotel at about 7.30 and waited half an hour for Sue's call to come through. It was fabulous to hear her little voice all those miles away. It's her 18th (birthday) today of course. Mum says she's missing me. David B's grandmother died on July 15.

Evening: can't remember much really but I pissed off Noel and John's balcony all over the Laker Holiday representative and then went out hand-in-hand with Noel (he still dressed as Elizabeth Taylor).

Became so intoxicated that for the first time ever I became violent. Chris said something which angered me and I lashed out at him and floored him and little Anne in the process. Can I be excused because of the drink? No, not really.








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Wednesday July 20,1977

at the Hotel Pacific ....

Must remember to phone Sue tomorrow at 7.30pm.

Tuesday July 19, 1977

The lads from Brighton.....

A good day.

Monday July 18, 1977

Wrestling with Peter M.

To Cala Bassa by ferry. Get a good tan but they all joke about the wrinkles under my eyes. Martyn says I aged 20 years since leaving England. Mr Mather really annoys today by flinging sand over everyone, upturning deckchairs and burying beach mats. A childish boy he is.











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Sunday July 17, 1977

6th after Trinity. To Port d'Es Torrent, if that's how you spell it. Topless bathers on the rocks. The lovely smell of pine needles. I slept for most of the time.

Isn't it queer how we have strange dreams  while sleeping in the heat of the sun?

Sent a few postcards home but can't imagine them arriving there before I do.











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Saturday July 16, 1977

Joy and Jacqui along with a little girl called Anne come round to the Pacific at 2.30 dressed in plastic bin liners with safety pins. Amazing! I stood dumbfounded in the crowded hotel foyer.

with Joy (left) and Jacqui.

I grabbed a supply of plonk from my room and escorted the three 'punk rockers' onto the spell-bound beach. Noel was off-hand with Joy. Jacqui remarked how quiet I am in hours of lightness. I explained that I am nocturnal. Swigged warm wine. Fell asleep, &c.

Saw a gang of real punk rockers at the Playboy tonight. What a revolting sight they were. Ghastly.








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Friday July 15, 1977

Hot day doing little other than muck about in the sun. Tonight Noel and I met Jacqui and Joy again and became quite pissed.

Martyn's note.

Arriving back at the Pacific (Hotel) I found  the note (left) glued to the door of my room with 'Mum' rollette deodorant.

One night is quite acceptable but two is pushing it a bit far, don't you think? I took a flying kick at the door and then found refuge in Noel's bedroom.
















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