Tuesday August 5, 1980

_. Ally and Garry are blistered, quite terribly, and so we resolve to avoid the sun and take a day off. To a bar in close proximity to the hotel with a copy of the Daily Telegraph. The strain was too much and so we returned to the hotel and slept all afternoon.

Tonight: to Pinocchio's for lasagne and wine where we sat under a fan gasping for air. On to Los Gatos but we were overcome by the nauseating stench of a passing refuse lorry. On to Es Reco, El Capone's [which is now a dump and where the police sit every night waiting for English hooligans to start fighting]. Then to the faithful Project Bar and the Playboy Club [with just Ally, and oh the coolness of this class disco]. On to the Extasis until 5am where I danced about to the Rolling Stones. Out of the club to the beach and at 6am had a dip in the Med. Back to the Es Pla for breakfast at 7:30, where we sat giggling at some elderly Scots ordering boiled eggs, very loudly, shouting 'four minutes, not three' to the waitress.

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Monday August 4, 1980

_. Bank Holiday in Scotland and Irish Republic

We are all blistered and glowing like leppers. The 80th birthday of HM Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother. Up at 10:30 and take a ferry to Port Des Torrent for the day. Since last Monday the ladies have been topless on the sands. No one was more taken aback than I. It all started when a strap off Susan's bikini burst and became impossible to wear. So both girls, in a theatrical flourish, cast caution to the wind, or should I say sun?, and stripped to the waist. It's very much the done thing here. Naked bodies everywhere. The only problem is I shall have to buy a photo album with a lock and key.

Tonight Ally and I went with Dave and Garry to Nito's. Peter [the owner] bought us drinks and treated us like personal guests. David's charisma.

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Sunday August 3, 1980

_.9th Sunday after Trinity

The 26th birthday of Mr David Glynn. Ally and I were up early and out into a steaming San Antonio, making our way past the Extasis Club, climbing over recumbent figures 'sleeping it off', to a patisserie where we bought six disgustingly large cream cakes and a bottle of bubbly. Back at the Es Pla we found the honeymooners, and then broke into Dave's room, showering him and Garry with bubbly, confetti and cream. We serenaded a red faced Dave, who was quite taken aback. Garry was hungover from a night at Nito's, and cowered 'neath his sheets.

Out to the beach near the Hawaii [again]. Clowned around in the sand. Ate more spaghetti. A most pleasant breeze fanned us down the beach. We larked about in beer and sand until about 7. I weakened and bought a copy of The Times. Laid on my sun lounger swigging beer & reading about E.M. Forster.

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Saturday August 2, 1980

On the town....

_. On the beach all day near the Hotel Hawaii. Out to dinner, but too hot to eat. No appetite. Ally and Sue had a smelly paella. Back to the Es Pla at 12. Disgracefully early. Couldn't sleep because a diabolical band was playing by the pool and masses of geriatrics were waltzing and doing the samba into the small hours. It was like sleeping with Vince Hill. Her could have been in bed with us.

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Sleeping with Vince

Friday August 1, 1980

Up at 9:15. To the beach. Devoured spaghetti. Ally and I ignored food tonight and went to Blackbeard's whilst the others found a restaurant and behaved sensibly. Very romantic tonight, with the help of a vast quantity of gin. On to the Project Bar, where I am reported to have danced on a table top with my trousers rolled up to my knees. Back at the Es Pla, overcome with the heat, I dragged the bed onto the balcony.

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Thursday July 31, 1980

Balcony party ....

_. Pissed. We had a party on the balcony of 305 after a day on the beach at Cala Conta. We spent 880 pesetas on booze and the atmosphere was merry. Garry enjoys the bedroom drinks more than anything.

Out to the Project Bar, Blackbeard's - sloshed. The English couple who own Blackbeard's Bar moved in back in 1961, when only six hotels existed on the island. In fact they were here before the waters of the Mediterranean lapped warmly against her craggy reaches.

The town seems much more crowded this year. Rick is keeping a low profile. Age must be creeping up on him.

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Wednesday July 30, 1980

_. Went with much complaining from Sue and Ally to the beach at San Antonio beyond the jetty.

Beans on toast for breakfast, 'neath the blazing sun.

Drank Carlsberg lager in a cool bar, and returned to the hotel knackered at about 5pm.

Slept at the hotel until 7. Tonight to Los Gatos, Blackbeard's Bar, the Project Bar. Back to the hotel at 2am.

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Tuesday July 29, 1980

_. Up at 9. To Cala Bassa. Need I say hot? We had hot grapes and coconut, and cold drinks.

We returned to the Es Pla at 4:30 by ferry from Bassa to San An. We were entertained by an intoxicated German who insisted on handing out chocolate biscuits and pretending to vomit overboard into the Med. He laughingly referred to the barbecue at Bassa as a 'pig party'.

We had a party in our room [305]. Drank Campari and Cointreau on the balcony. Very jocular. Sue and Pete have astounded me. Not once, so far, have they attempted to escape from the group, and both are so happy to be part of the bawdy party.

Out at 9 to Joe Spoons, Los Gatos and the square near the fountains, where a jug of sangria costs 1,080 pesetas. All on to the Extasis disco where a further 1,000 psts went on a round of drinks and then the Project Bar, just Ally and I, the others having weakened and returned to the Es Pla.

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Monday July 28, 1980

Dave, Ally and Garry....

_. Up at 8 well in time for breakfast. We walked to the beach near the Hawaii Hotel and spent the day there. Too hot. We took refuge in the safety of a bar. Saw Rick, but he didn't see us.

Back at the Es Pla for 6:30 and we sat in the bar laughing at Pete who killed flies in time to 'Walking on the Moon' by the Police. Fish for dinner - no like.

Bars tonight, include: Los Gatos, Kings Bar, Project Bar, and back to the hotel at 1:30. Dave and Garry went on to Nito's with Rick.

Sue and Pete haven't mentioned the disturbance at the wedding, and neither have we. No point in stirring things up in Ibiza.

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Sunday July 27, 1980

Sue & Pete.

_. 8th Sunday after Trinity

A dark atmosphere this morning. Mum and Dad were in a foul mood, following the fiasco at the wedding, but they did decide to accompany us to Stockport with Lynn & Dave. Sue & Pete arrived from the Cow & Calf but the subject of the bar bill was not touched upon.

At the Project Bar.

Poor Dave G arrived at the wedding covered in spots, obviously a bout of chicken pox, and so his day had been spoiled. He accompanied us back over the Pennines. All to the Hollywood. The two Daves went to the hospital to get something for Glynnie's spots, then on to Manchester Airport. We flew at 3:10pm. How many honeymooners go away with half the wedding guests?

At the Es Pla, San Antonio in time for chicken for dinner. Out at 10 to a new bar, called the Flash Bar, rude songs playing on the Hi Fi. Then to Los Gatos, the Project Bar, until 3am. Sue and Pete disappeared at about 1:30. Pete lost his voice. Here at last.

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Saturday July 26, 1980

_. Muggy day. Susan and Peter married at 2:10pm at St Paul's Church, Esholt. I lost my last sister and am now alone with just my parents in the solitude of the rambling mansion that is Pine Tops.

The usual pre-wedding panic found its way into the afternoon. The fastening on Mum's dress gave way as we climbed into a wedding car, but the bridesmaids, all pink [drinking gin], soon fixed it.

Sue & Pete,

The ceremony and reception went splendidly. Sue was beautiful throughout. Peter was nervous, but both made clear, loud responses to the Rev Calvin Ward. The vicar overdid things somewhat going on about 'discovering the joy in one another'. After seven years what is left to discover?

The food at the Cow & Calf was excellent. Chippy became very loud. Later, in the disco, he ordered lots of drink, wine etc, all on Papa's bill, unbeknown to him, to the tune of £140. Chippy also offended Mrs Brassington, the proprietress, with his 'flowery language'. This breach of protocol rattled my mother and put a cloud over the close of the proceedings.

Home at 12.

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