Tuesday July 19, 1977

The lads from Brighton.....

A good day.

Monday July 18, 1977

Wrestling with Peter M.

To Cala Bassa by ferry. Get a good tan but they all joke about the wrinkles under my eyes. Martyn says I aged 20 years since leaving England. Mr Mather really annoys today by flinging sand over everyone, upturning deckchairs and burying beach mats. A childish boy he is.











-=-

Sunday July 17, 1977

6th after Trinity. To Port d'Es Torrent, if that's how you spell it. Topless bathers on the rocks. The lovely smell of pine needles. I slept for most of the time.

Isn't it queer how we have strange dreams  while sleeping in the heat of the sun?

Sent a few postcards home but can't imagine them arriving there before I do.











-=-

Saturday July 16, 1977

Joy and Jacqui along with a little girl called Anne come round to the Pacific at 2.30 dressed in plastic bin liners with safety pins. Amazing! I stood dumbfounded in the crowded hotel foyer.

with Joy (left) and Jacqui.

I grabbed a supply of plonk from my room and escorted the three 'punk rockers' onto the spell-bound beach. Noel was off-hand with Joy. Jacqui remarked how quiet I am in hours of lightness. I explained that I am nocturnal. Swigged warm wine. Fell asleep, &c.

Saw a gang of real punk rockers at the Playboy tonight. What a revolting sight they were. Ghastly.








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Friday July 15, 1977

Hot day doing little other than muck about in the sun. Tonight Noel and I met Jacqui and Joy again and became quite pissed.

Martyn's note.

Arriving back at the Pacific (Hotel) I found  the note (left) glued to the door of my room with 'Mum' rollette deodorant.

One night is quite acceptable but two is pushing it a bit far, don't you think? I took a flying kick at the door and then found refuge in Noel's bedroom.
















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Thursday July 14, 1977

Rick's boat trip. A great piss up. I misplaced my El Capone T-shirt and the sunglasses I acquired here last year.

In the Pavement Bar tonight Noel and I met a couple of girls, Jacqueline Sate, of 102 Grosvenor Road, Muswell Hill, London N10, and a marvellous little mover who strongly resembles Sandie Shaw, called Joy.

Es Paradis, San Antonio, Ibiza.

The four of us went to Es Paradis and Playboy One. Much alcohol. Great dancing done. At Es Paradis I met a German in the toilet who took me for a Spanish flamenco dancer. I made a quick escape when he fell down over a sink pulling it from the wall. In the bar I said I was Felipe de Borbon, heir to the Spanish throne. It didn't get any of us a free drink. Hysteria was had by all.

Martyn asked me to sleep in Noel's room because he wants to entertain a blond girl from Stevenage for the night. I readily agreed. He's only young once.

-=-

Wednesday July 13, 1977

Boat trip: Martyn, Mig, Chris, Dave, Peter and John.

Went on a foul boat-trip which cost 5,700,000 pesetas. My camera broke and I transferred my film into Glenn's appliance. Can't win 'em all, eh?