Wednesday July 7, 1976

Peter didn't propose to Carmina yesterday, but from tonight's conversation he may well be doing it at this very moment.

Out to the bars with Dave G, Glenn and Lucia, Carmina & Monsi - they go home tomorrow morning & we'll never see them again. Sad, because we have become such friends.

Pete & Carmina go off for a quiet walk and I go up in the lift with Lucia. I got out on the second floor and stood watching as she disappeared up to the third. We have exchanged addresses, but nothing could ever be the same again.

Glenn and I open a couple of bottles of wine in my room (40 pesetas each) and we proceeded to get pissed up. Giggling and laughing like a pair of fourteen year-old school girls - but if you can't giggle on holiday, when the Hell can you?

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Tuesday July 6, 1976

Peter says he's going to propose marriage to Carmina tonight. Otherwise a normal day on the beach improving our tans. David G visits a doctor who tells him to rest up for a few days with his wounds. Goodbye.

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Monday July 5, 1976

Go with Pete, Dave G and Glenn with Carmina and Lucia to the Playboy Club (indoor). We danced a few 'smoochies' but she's frightened to death and shakes like a leaf every time I touch her. Communication is still virtually non-existant and Lucia appears to be bored at times. Peter gets on well with Carmina.

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Sunday July 4, 1976

3rd after Trinity. Independence Day, U.S.A. A hot day again - in the eighties anyway.

Go for a trip around San Antonio in a glass bottomed boat - thoroughly bored by it. The ocean bed was the quietest ocean bed I have ever had the misfortune to lay eyes upon and the only conclusion I can draw is that the local marine life also take a siesta at this time of day.

Pete and I go on the beach after lunch and lay in the hot sun improving our tans for a couple of hours.

Out tonight with three Spanish ladies to the El Capone Bar and then to the outdoor Playboy Club until after 2am. Back to the hotel bar and drink until 3. Oh, if only we could understand one another. Cannot adequately describe the frustration of having a failed conversation with a lovely bird with sexy, big eyes.

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Saturday July 3, 1976

Typical Ibiza day followed by typical Ibiza night.

Friday July 2, 1976

The boat trip to Cala Bassa proved a fantastic experience. Three men overboard; topless fraulins; & more booze than I've ever seen on a floating vessel before.

I sank one full bottle of champagne and one bottle of white wine. Vomiting over the side at one stage. A wild frolic on Cala Bassa beach. Several maidens were aware of my presence.

Tonight: met a lot of Spanish girls in the hotel and tried to communicate with them. Had quite a laugh. From Catalonia, wherever that is.

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Thursday July 1, 1976

Dominion Day, Canada. A fantastic, wet day. The chamber maids got us up at 10.30 or so, and I went down to write a few postcards. Send them all off except ones to Chris & Denise. The weather is cloudy and by 12 it's pissing down. At 12.30, Pete, Dave Glynn (the lad in the next room to ours) and I get a taxi in torrential rain to the harbour where all the Club 18-30 mob are awaiting the arrival of Miss Nottingham and Mr Smarty Pants. The rain gets worse and everyone is soaked through to the skin. We are told that the (boat) trip won't be run today and we're invited back tomorrow at the same time. Walk back to the hotel in the monsoon and take some funny photographs which I can't wait to see.

A typical Ibiza night.

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Wednesday June 30, 1976

One of those memorable Ibizan nights when Peter was sick. The Ibiza booze is sure going down a treat, folks.

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Tuesday June 29, 1976

See in an old copy of the Daily Express that England is sweltering in terrible heat conditions. Mum will be in her element. 90 degrees F!

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Monday June 28, 1976

A nice Ibizan day followed by a typical Ibizan booze-up. Have settled down to the routine of doing bugger all quite easily.

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Sunday June 27, 1976

Chris takes Pete and I to Manchester Airport and we arrived at about 2pm. A scorching hot day and the tarmac on the runway is virtually melting. Bid farewell to Chris at 3 o'clock or so and we sit for an hour waiting for the flight. I'm quite nervous about the whole thing.

The flight was fantastic and the views from 30-odd thousand feet were remarkable. Thick cloud on our arrival in Ibiza. It's boody ironic that we've come over a thousand miles from sweltering Britain to a place that's been cloudy and wet for the best part of a week. The hotel Pacific is great, but a sewage works seems to dominate the view from our balcony. However, I can assure you that Ibiza is a fantastic place. Never have I enjoyed a foreign holiday, or indeed a British holiday, so much. Forgive the brief entries over the next few weeks but I'm far too bust to bother writing anythging in detail. However, full services will be resumed as soon as possible.

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