Thursday July 19, 1979

_. Stayed in San Antonio. Drank vast amounts in the beach bar. Billy left his teeth back at the hotel because they need a good cleaning and he caused a minor sensation parading in the sand in Nicola's sun hat. His sun-tanned gums went down a treat with the naked Swedish girls.

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Wednesday July 18, 1979

_. Today was just a replica of yesterday in almost every detail, but for the fact that I wore different clothes in the evening and Billy failed to do his 'drunken man falling over in the street' routine. The sun shone so very nicely too.

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Tuesday July 17, 1979

_. To the beach in San Antonio. Went out on a pedalo with Billy and Garry. Billy loved it, and was like a small child. He says coming to Ibiza was worth it just for the experience.

OK Coral again. Billy collapsed, yet again. Will he survive the holiday? Forget his 80 year-old mother.

Dave is with Janice (again). She is very pleasant and quickly adapting to David's sense of humour. Poor girl.

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Monday July 16, 1979

_. Last night Garry took the horrible Nicola back to the hotel for a 'knock-off'. Dave escorted Janice. I went to the Chac Mool with some Swedish lads and smoked something which wasn't from a cigarette machine. Very amusing.

Garry was nowhere to be seen this morning and so I accompanied David, Janice and Nicola to Cala Bassa. David, the stupid sod, has fallen in love with Janice. Nicola almost sank the small ferry boat, full of beautiful people.

We found a quiet stretch of beach where I proceeded to sleep on my beach mat. David and Janice disappeared into the bushes. Nicola has thighs reminiscent of the large oak tree in Sherwood Forest where Robin Hood was supposed to have lodged. White too, and slightly more gnarled than Robin's oak. The worst bit was was when she took a dip in the ocean. The Med rose by 6 feet and tidal waves swept the Adriatic coast. _________.

To the OK Coral with the Swedish mob again. Pissed up. Garry's knock-off was Nicola again. How can he?

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Sunday July 15, 1979

_. 5th Sunday after Trinity.

I pissed the bed, like a three year old. I'm not in the least bit embarrassed because if you can't pay £180.70 to piss the bed once a year, when can you?

We stayed around the pool until about 11 and then I went with Garry by ferry to San Antonio where we walked in the harbour before making for a bar and drinking pints for five or six hours. Discussed all manner of things. He says that Billy will kill himself when his aged mother dies. He says Billy is not enjoying the holiday because he cannot keep up with us younger ones. At 40 he's bloody past it.

Back at the Galfi we had just missed a full scale drama. Billy had been thrown, naked, into the pool and as he is unable to swim he caused a major brouhaha. He had been banished to his room by Philip II's ambassador to the Court of St James's. Poor Billy had almost drowned and Dave was close to hysterics.

Tonight we met a couple of new inmates at the hotel - Janice and Nicola, from Snaith near Goole. Janice isn't a beauty, but is pleasant, and Nicola is simply monstrous. We all went out to the Los Gatos together. Billy did his Ian Dury routine and then collapsed. We put him into a taxi and packed him off to the hotel in one Hell of a state. A party of Swedes mistook him for Marty Feldman.

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Saturday July 14, 1979

_. Up at 8:30 and out before any of the bars had opened. Something of a 'first' for me. I felt ghastly from the booze and cigarettes and could not have stayed in bed a minute longer.

Went to the cheapest bar in San Antonio - Los Gatos. Met up with a crowd of drunken Glaswegians, vomiting in the streets after an excess of Herbas. Saw Ian Wallace, the Coventry City and Scottish international footballer. He was pink and pissed, and on the arm of a revolting tart. Why do footballers always marry at 19, and to some ghastly painted whore? Evidently, Wallace has been to Argentina and made a dreadful mess of everything.

Scotland 0, Ibiza 36.

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Friday July 13, 1979

_. Friday the Thirteenth. I think Ally is going home to Itchen Abbas for the weekend.

To my favourite beach - Cala Conta. On sunbeds eating coconut and cherries and trying not to stare too hard at the naked bodies.

We met some girls from Nottingham, and tonight Dave and I took two - Anne and Lorraine - out on the town. Went to the OK Coral and the Project Bar and Es Paradis.

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Thursday July 12, 1979

_. The beach party. We went to Cala Moli, and not the usual Tarida. These parties are obviously doomed. Made friends with a party of Swedes who gave me a lump of tobacco to insert under my top lip. ___ Messy.

Cala Moli is a nauseating little beach. Covered in rocks and gravel and most unsuitable for sunbathing or swimming. Rick organised juvenile games such as passing the peseta, and finding the cucumber. I steered well clear.

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Wednesday July 11, 1979

_. Stayed at the Galfi pool. The flies are troublesome and drive me stupid. Ate over the road at Es Muli (?) - onion soup, and cannelloni, &c. This half-board is splendid. Eating when one wants to eat and not at the sound of a hotel gong.

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Tuesday July 10, 1979

_. Travellers cheques are such a good idea. Why haven't I used them before?

To Cala Bassa. Beautiful girls and hundreds of coloured umbrellas. You have to see the ocean here to fully appreciate the beauty of it. Only Lord Byron, and perhaps Pam Ayres, could describe it adequately.

Back at the Galfi we ate at a local bar. I did not enjoy my runny omelette. It resembled the 1966 Abervan disaster, only it was yellow. All sludgy and sloppy. Purchased a couple of bottles of cheap wine (70 pstas each) and it must have gone straight to Garry's head for when the battery of his camera failed he made his way to his balcony and lobbed it into the field where the goats gathered. "It let me down" --- Oh I did laugh.

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Monday July 9, 1979

_. Woke up, which wasn't easy. To Cala Tarida on the ferry. Billy enjoyed the trip. Buildings are going up everywhere on the hills around Tarida where only pine trees and shrubs could be seen three years ago. Beautiful though. The topless ladies are as numerous as the new buildings.

To the OK Coral for pizza tonight and the endless round of bars. El Capone is now a ghastly bar. The Project Bar (formerly the Pavement Bar) is now our favourite boozer. Prices are no different to last year.

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