Saturday October 15, 1977

Foggy still and at breakfast we had a heated argument on the subject of whether we should still go to see John (Grady) in Rawtenstall if the weather continues. How depressing.

I just sat and stared glumly out of the window in the afternoon with the record player singing away in the background, and by tea time it was much more clear.

At 6.30 we went to collect Chris and Pete M at Horsforth. The journey to Lancashire took just an hour and Mr Mather attempted to break the world land speed record, I fear.

with Noel Pilling and John Grady.

John (Grady) was nothing but pure madness from the moment of our arrival. What's more he is now endowed with a beard. Joined by his friends Gary, Steve and Charlie and a few others and we went for a few drinks and on to the 21st birthday party of one of his friends. Drank pils lager and did a bit of punk rock dancing. I was immediately impressed by a girl called Michelle with shaggy blond hair and tight pink jeans. We left here at 10. It was sad because it all the signs of being an excellent party.

On to the Angels at Burnley. A hot, crowded place, but great fun. It's unbelievable the number of women John is acquainted with - most of them very good looking too. Met Noel and his fiance Karen, who says she met me at Manchester Airport after the holiday but of course I don't remember a thing. Sue and Pete got on well with them all which was good. At 1.30 we returned to the party where the remaining survivors were fantastically pissed-up. We danced and joked until dawn. Hylda Baker made an appearance.

Vodka and Pomagne was the 'in drink' in our set. The highlight of the session came at about 4.30am when Michelle removed her blouse and sat about in her sexy black bra and wonderfully tight pink trousers. Oh how I love drunk women! The way they slur their speech and loll in that appealing manner. It was just too much for John and I. We laughed until daylight.

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Tuesday September 13, 1977

Jacqui.

Jacqui phoned today and said she and Joy are coming up on September 23 for the weekend. They are staying at a flat in Leeds and she suggests we go out for a couple of nights on the town. I say it's a great idea and we had a pleasant chat about it. However, John (Grady) phoned from Rossendale this evening and said next weekend wouldn't be suitable for our visit to Lancashire, and could we make it the weekend after instead? All would have been fine but what about Jacqui coming from deepest Muswell Hill? John is undeterred and says she's only after my Hylda Baker body. We laughed. I think of Dave G. He'll never be able to get Sept 17 off. Oh God, I'm fed up with all this muddled arranging. John also said Noel would be free to join us on Sept 24 because he's going away with his fiance next weekend. We'll sort something out and I'll contact Jacqui tomorrow.

Tonight I sat and worked out the number of people descended from my grandparents John Wilson and Levinyer Wood. You may think it a silly thing to do but I'm interested. They have 35 descendants, 17 of them male; 18 female. They are all living too. They range from 58 years to one week old. I was the eighth grandchild and fifteenth descendant, and sixth grandson. Only 10 of the descendants bear the name Wilson today. The other 25 are Harwoods, Myers, Gadsbys, Williams, &c. They don't have as many descendants as King Edward III, but they haven't had the amount of time he's had. A proper little statistician aren't I?

Retired to bed at midnight.

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Wednesday August 3, 1977

Dave Glynn's 23rd birthday. I must give him a buzz to organise the holiday reunion party. We can't lose contact with dear John, Steve and Noel. Stayed in bed until after 9 o'clock. After all, I didn't get in until 5.30. I cannot be expected to have a mere two hours sleep and then roll into the office. I phoned Sarah to break the news of my absence and she was quite chirpy and nice. "I hope you'll soon be better" she chirped.

Lady Sarah Spencer: no beauty.

Frank Perfect, the husband of the sweet, little old lady from Westgate, Tranmere Park, who befriended me in my newspaper delivery days, is dead. I haven't seen either of them for two or three years, but they took a real shine to me and always made me feel welcome. He was only 62. He was the general factory manager of J.I. Case Co Ltd, manufacturers of construction equipment, and in charge of their Leeds plant since 1964. Perhaps I should send Mrs P a letter or something.

The Prince of Wales Romance Stakes are opening again. We now have three candidates in the running (according to the beloved Press). They are: Davina Sheffield, Princess Marie-Astrid and the Lady Elizabeth Sarah Lavinia Spencer. Lady Sarah is a daughter of the 8th Earl Spencer and is step-daughter of Raine, Countess Spencer, who was previously Lady Dartmouth. Her ancestors include at least three dukes, Marlborough, Abercorn and Bedford, and the Earls of Lucan crop up once or twice in her lineage. However, she is no beauty. After the gorgeous Davina Sheffield I'm afraid it's all down hill as far as I'm concerned. I just don't know what HRH must be thinking. A big, stately home in Kent standing empty (Chevening), just waiting for the feminine touch of some willowy princess, but he's making no attempt to provide the nation with one. The Duke of Edinburgh once made a speech about 'pulling the finger out', well I think he should get onto his eldest son.

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Saturday July 23, 1977

Our last full day. We spent the whole time on the beach to reap the benefit of our last touch of Spanish sun. Even at 5.30 when very few remained I clung to my hammock. Jacqui was with us all day.

By 6pm I was in San Antonio buying bottles of drink for Mama and a straw handbag for Darling Sue's birthday.

Group at the Hotel Pacific.

Back at the hotel having a quiet ale by the pool I was approached by a gorgeous dolly bird who wanted to know if I fancied accompanying her on an open jeep tour of San Antonio. Naturally, I was late back for dinner.

Our last wild night. To the Pavement Bar and met Jacqui and Joy. Noel and I walked them to the Hotel March and bid them a fond farewell, probably forever. The coach taking them to Ibiza Airport disappeared in a cloud of dust, and Noel and I returned to the Pavement Bar.

Had a party in my room which was riotous.Wine women and song galore. What must the other residents of the hotel have thought? It must have been about 4am when I got rid of everyone.

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Friday July 22, 1977

Felt beastly today over my behaviour last night. However, if one can't get pissed up and fall about kicking the hell out of people on holiday when indeed can one?

L to R: Chris, Martyn, Noel, Mig, John and Steve.

Oh God the time is running out fast. Two weeks gone just like that. The real painful thought is that it's probably the last wild fling until Christmas.

Oops. I haven't mentioned the change of ink, have I?

Out on the town tonight with Noel again. Met Jacqui and Joy.  Went to the Continental restaurant and bid farewell to a couple of lads from Brighton, Glen and Mick, and then on to Chac Mool and Playboy.

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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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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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Thursday July 14, 1977

Rick's boat trip. A great piss up. I misplaced my El Capone T-shirt and the sunglasses I acquired here last year.

In the Pavement Bar tonight Noel and I met a couple of girls, Jacqueline Sate, of 102 Grosvenor Road, Muswell Hill, London N10, and a marvellous little mover who strongly resembles Sandie Shaw, called Joy.

Es Paradis, San Antonio, Ibiza.

The four of us went to Es Paradis and Playboy One. Much alcohol. Great dancing done. At Es Paradis I met a German in the toilet who took me for a Spanish flamenco dancer. I made a quick escape when he fell down over a sink pulling it from the wall. In the bar I said I was Felipe de Borbon, heir to the Spanish throne. It didn't get any of us a free drink. Hysteria was had by all.

Martyn asked me to sleep in Noel's room because he wants to entertain a blond girl from Stevenage for the night. I readily agreed. He's only young once.

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Sunday July 10, 1977

5th after Trinity. Left for Manchester (Airport) at about 8am with the lads, Peter and Chris having come from Denise's (21st birthday) party.

At Manchester Airport.

Flight was delayed and we passed two or three hours in the bar. We all seemed to get on OK. Got to the Hotel Pacific for lunch. Holiday begins.

Met three lads from Lancashire, Noel (Pilling), John (Grady) and Steve. All out on the town together. Riotous.












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