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.

-=-

Monday December 11, 1978

Wedwood Benn: future prime minister

I am very worried about Anthony Wedgwood Benn. The Daily Mail seems to think that this man is a future Prime Minister and this really worries me ~ especially at breakfast time when I am inclined to fits of morose depression. I left for the YP with a black cloud hanging over me. What's the bloody point in carrying on when communism, decay and drab uniformity lie at the end of life's sombre pathway?

Rang Janet at WH Smith's and told her to go ahead for the booking of the Ibiza '79 holiday. At lunch I dashed to the closest travel agent and picked up a Thomson's brochure to look at the Hotel Galfi. It seems quite nice. It only has 40 bedrooms. Phoned Dave G tonight. We laughed. After two hours at the Galfi everyone will know us intimately. He's going to see Garry later. Bill is dead chuffed about the whole business. The nasty part about it is that Smith's want a £20 deposit from all of us by the weekend. I collected some coach tour brochures for Mum and she fancies a trip to Yugoslavia next June as part of her Silver Wedding celebrations. Disgraceful that she wants to spend a holiday in the Eastern bloc alliance. It is no idea of fun to me. I suppose Mr Benn and his leftie pals from the House of Commons spend holidays in the Warsaw Pact countries, but Michael Rhodes never shall. President Tito can go piss off.

Saw Monty Python on the BBC followed by a Jane Fonda film. To bed hideously tired at 12:30.

-=-

Friday December 1, 1978

Still foggy and damp.

I phoned Michelle at the travel agents to enquire about apartments in Ibiza for next July or August. She said bookings are going well and many thousands are clamouring for foreign holidays after the disastrous summer at home. She will come back to me tomorrow or Monday. She has such a wonderful, sexy voice.

I did not go out on the razzle this evening. I met David B at 5:30 at Jacomelli's and we drove to Yeadon to collect Lynn at Morrison's. Back to Burley for din~dins and then Dave and I, clad in overalls, slapped gloss paint all over the downstairs living quarters. This was a historic event, because by midnight we had daubed our last splattering of paint on 7, Lawn Road, for some considerable time.

We had a few glasses of sherry to celebrate and watched a western on the microscopic TV and retired to bed at about 2. The house was icy cold, but Lynn had warmed my bed with a hot water bottle.

-=-

Tuesday October 10, 1978

Dave G phoned from Stockport. He says Bill, Garry and Steve are definitely coming on holiday with us next year. He's eager to book already, but I told him I'd contact him later in the week. He wanted me to go to Stockport this coming weekend but we have promised to go to Burley~in~Wharfedale.

I told Sue that Dave is thinking of Ibiza next year already and she didn't commit herself. Lynn and Dave have shown interest in Ibiza '79 as did John and Alison but that was before he did this swine of a thing to her. ________.

Mum and Dad are still acting weirdly and our lounge isn't exactly the conversational centre of West Yorkshire. Ice hangs in the atmosphere.

-=-

Wednesday October 4, 1978

No news from Jacq today.

Saw Marita on Wellington Street. She told me Carole and Fogarty came from their Ibiza holiday a few days early because she almost drowned in their hotel swimming pool. She had the 'kiss of life' job ~ poor child. Forever dogged by illness and misfortune.

Lord Grosvenor, reputedly one of Britain's wealthiest men, marries Natalia Phillips next weekend at Luton Hoo, Bedfordshire. Miss Phillips, aged 19, is the daughter of Lieutenant-Colonel and Mrs Harold Phillips, close friends of our own dear Queen, and a granddaughter of Lady Zia Wernher. In the time it's taken me to write this I have calculated that the Grosvenor fortunes have swelled by £250. It just doesn't bear thinking about. It may also interest you to know that the future Countess Grosvenor's elder sister is the Marchioness of Hamilton, daughter~in~law of the Duke of Abercorn.

However, to come back down to earth. Saw 'Coronation Street' and read Hitler. Nothing else.

-=-

Friday August 11, 1978

Moon's first quarter 21:06

Something of painful day in the rear. It's going to take fortitude, faith, and tremendous courage to keep battling on over the weekend.

I forgot to mention that in yesterday's Daily Express they published large black and white photographs of Princess Margaret holidaying in Italy with a new geezer, Mario d'Urso. It's Sarah's view that any new men in the life of the princess will now be received with approval at the palace because anybody is an improvement on Roddy Llewellyn. I disagree. Can you imagine a Court Circular from the future listing 'Princess Margaret, the Mrs Ronald Biggs' for instance?

Carole phoned this afternoon to enquire after the state of my bum. She was her usual warm self and we chatted for ten minutes. She and Fogarty are going to Es Canar in Ibiza in September. My God, who'd have thought she'd be doing this after last October's nightmare? I haven't seen Carole since June when Jacq, Sarah, John Mac and I went to Harrogate.

By this afternoon it came to pass that I have caught a dreadful cold. I broke the world sneezing record while stood on top of a pair of ladders filing pictures. However, I'm not going to let it deter me enjoying myself this evening.

David L and Jacq collected me ~ he'd picked her up at the Station Hotel ~ and we went to the Black Bull, my first visit to Otley since Christmas. From here we went to see Lynn and David and Lawn Road. Dave L was very impressed by the decor. It will be so good when it's all finished. Lynn looked very tired.

David L wanted his seafood and so we dashed to the Menston Arms in search of the 'Prawn Man', but were out of luck. Our last hope was at the Commercial where Annie (Lindley) supplied us with jars of mussels. She enquired after Mum & Dad, who never go out these days.

Jacq and I told Dave that we will definitely go to see him at the Barn Motel, Hockley Heath, Warwickshire. Jacq suggests we combine this with a visit to Derek & Carol Sate. Derek may be taking the boat out. __________.

Back at home Mum almost bit my head off for some reason and stormed off to bed. I watched the end of 'Tale of Two Cities' starring Ronald Colman. Very old and sad.

-=-

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.

-=-

Thursday July 20, 1978

Our last full day in San Antonio. Tonight we went out to celebrate Sue's birthday. Chippy and Gus met a group of girls from Dublin, and Dave and I, Sue and Pete chatted with Ken and a couple of girls, whose names escape me, in the bar at the El Capone.

At 11:30pm the four of us said godbye to Jed and Co and we headed for the square near the fountains. At the stroke of midnight Sangria was ordered and we prepared for our last serious drink of the holiday. Isn't it ghastly?

-=-

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 ___________________.

-=-

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?

-=-

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.

-=-

Saturday July 15, 1978

St. Swithun's Day. It didn't rain in Ibiza. In fact, from the look of things I don't think it has rained here for years. Never before have I suffered so much from the heat. Even Dave G, who is terribly susceptible to the sun, is in a better state than me.

Have I mentioned that topless bathers are everywhere this year? A few dropped their bikini tops last year but this year it's easier to count the ladies with tops on rather than off. Sue, British to the end, absolutely refused to discard any essential items of clothing, and says she's proud of the fact she isn't a sheep. However, some of the females are ghastly and would look much better covered up. Chippy is very frustrated because he hasn't managed to get his end away with abybody. He says he's been out~classed by the jet~setters. Anyone with such a low opinion of themselves, and with such a defeatist attitude, doesn't deserve to get anywhere.

-=-

Friday July 14, 1978

I had very little sleep. My shoulders are greeny yellow, and pouring with guck. My first action today was to consult Dr Chippy. He came to my room, clad only in his underpants, and carrying a tube of magic, white powder, a series of needles and anti-septic cream. I almost fainted. He burst my remaining blisters and then we made our way to the bar to get properly anaesthetised.

Yesterday "Doctor" Chippy was the hero of the hour on the beach when he put a dislocated shoulder back into position following a 'tug~of~war' accident on the beach. He was immediately acclaimed as the "Beach Party Doctor" and Pam, for one, looked at him with doe~eyed wonderment and affection assuring his chances with her this night.

Why is it that women fall for medical men? Even men like Chippy who only look after mental patients?

I met Jacq a year ago today in the El Capone Bar, or was it the Pavement?

-=-

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.


-=-

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.

-=-

Tuesday July 11, 1978

I think we went by boat to Cala Conta. Previous holidays have never been quite so hot as this one. It's unbearable.

Tonight Gus, Chippy and I ended up in Es Paradis again, but when Chippy fell in love and asked one of the local women to marry him I'd had enough and proceeded to set out on foot in a homeward direction. It was after 3am anyway.

Wending my way across San Antonio I had the fortune to overtake what I mistook to be a party of German ladies, and as I passed by the ring leader, in husky tones, said: "Keep on swinging, man", at which they all fell about in hysterics. I immediately set upon them, and they linked arms with me and I escorted them to their hotel. A taxi came to a grinding halt and out leapt Gus and Chippy, who accosted a couple of the girls for themselves. However, I hung on to the attractive spokesperson called Tina with the deep voice, who informed me that they are in fact Dutch.

We went with the ladies to their hotel and Tina emerged into the garden ( or whatever you call the bit of patio around the swimming pool) with a bottle of Jagermeister, a Dutch liqueuer I think. After half an hour or so we were thrown out because of the noise and we took the bottles to the beach and did Travolta-like dancing on the sand. Horribly pissed. Chippy, Gus and their ladies disappeared leaving Tina and I alone to do a spot of of bathing. At 8am I took her back to her hotel.

-=-

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.

-=-

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.