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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