Wednesday July 27, 1977

Dandy Nichols: transported.

Tired and shattered after the holiday. Sat in the lounge all night and never moved from the armchair. Occasionally I fell to sleep but for most of the time I am attentive and watchful. People like me won two world wars, you know. Newscaster Richard Baker may well have thought, while drooling over the nine o'clock news, that Michael Rhodes was in a deep sleep, but Mr Baker would have been very wrong. Michael Rhodes, whilst admitting to closing his eyes and letting out a snore here and there, was in fact soaking all the days news into his brain. From underneath a crumpled newspaper he distinctly heard the venerable Mr Baker informing the nation of the government's intention to abolish the House of Lords, re-unify Ireland, declare war on the USSR, and have Dandy Nichols transported to Australia.

Mama, bless her little heart, informed us today that from a week on Friday she is joining the ranks of the unemployed. She wants a few months holiday, tranquillity and peace.

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Tuesday July 26, 1977

Maria's 19th birthday. Mum saw John today and he said he's taking her out for dinner to celebrate.

Monday July 25, 1977

Woke up feeling really terrible. Shaking like a leaf too. Had a large, greasy breakfast with Susan. With Sue and Pete to the Commercial at lunchtime but after one drink I'm decidedly worse. My hands were shaking too.

Sue & Pete.

Food doesn't seem to do any good either. We took fish and chips home and I played around with mine pushing it round the plate. Just no appetite.  Mum and Dad joined us at 1.30. Martyn joined us at 3 and stayed until 10.30. Watched a good film starring Albert Finney and Audrey Hepburn. Go to bed dog tired.









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Sunday July 24, 1977

7th after Trinity. Up at about ten to pack. Martyn is nowhere to be seen. A search of the hotel finds him with a bird from Otley in her room. Our room is in a diabolical condition. A red wine stain three feet high runs round the bottom of the bedroom walls. Booze and broken bottles all over the floor.

Slumbering at the airport

I loathe going home. Left for the airport at 12 noon and had hysterics on the coach with Kathyn. At Ibiza Airport we are told to prepare for an indefinite delay due to some sort of mechanical problem on board our aircraft. Allcock & Brown made their historic flight in this self same bone-shaker.

I got blind drunk. Disgustingly so. I stole a bottle of gin from the airport bar and drank most of it myself. Needless to say I vomited. My recollections of the journey home are somewhat vague other than drinking a couple of whiskies and, according to Peter Mather, fondling the air hostess.

Tony picked us up at Manchester and brought me home at about 1am. Still intoxicated.



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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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