Sunday August 10, 1980

_. 10th Sunday after Trinity

End of our holiday. Spent an hour packing my suitcase and clearing the room. We deposited our luggage in reception and went to a bar where I made the mistake of eating grilled prawns in garlic. For the rest of the day I was ostracised.

We left for Ibiza airport at about 5 and flew at something in the vicinity of 7. Back at the Hollywood at 10 gasping for a drink. Surprised to see Lynn and Dave there. They had thoughtfully driven over to give Ally and I a lift back to Guiseley. Left for home after 12. On the drive home Lynn filled us in on two weeks news including the Chippy trauma. Mum and Dad were in bed but we went in for a chat.

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Saturday August 9, 1980

_. On San Antonio beach until 6. Party in room 305 until after 10. A wild, hilarious party. Dave and I wore bright nail polish, and we went out wearing the outfits with stuffed birds stitched to the shoulders. In the square the bandit photographer with the chimpanzee told me that my birds are more eye catching than his pathetic animal. To the OK Coral with tits [birds] and nails. They all ate but I had gin and tonic instead. To Chac Mool - seething, then Nito's and home at 5am. I took a dip in the pool with some Germans, and Ally persuaded me to get out.

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Friday August 8, 1980

Hot. On San Antonio beach from 9am until 6:30. Out on pedalos with Ally, Sue and Pete. Read Agatha's Christie's 'Murder in the Mew', and the book was soggy from my perspiration. Out on the town as bloody usual. Back to the hotel at 2am due to lack of ideas.

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Thursday August 7, 1980

_. Up at 10:30. To Cala Bassa for the afternoon. Ally sat on the ferry reading 'Death on the Nile' by Agatha Christie.

On the beach, burning sand, Ally decided to 'get drunk' and the gin and lemon began to flow. I stuck to orange juice. Poor Garry returned to the hotel in pain with his blisters, poor sod. I was reading, and looking up I saw Ally had gone, and was bobbing around far out to sea. I swam out to her and she was desperately trying to stand up, and couldn't understand why. She was in 30ft of sea water. That's gin for you.

Out tonight with Ally, Dave and Garry. Had chicken and chips outside a cafe. To Pete's Bar, the stifling Project Bar, Flash Bar, then Nito's until 5am.  Ally caught sight of a very large lizard basking on a white painted wall.

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Wednesday August 6, 1980

_. Out at 8:30 after breakfast taking bread rolls to feed the fish at the bar near the Hawaii Hotel.

On San Antonio beach all day.

To Pinocchio's again. Then to Peter's bar [the guy who owns Nito's]. Blackbeard's for the traditional gin and tonic, then the Project Bar seething with posing Scandinavians. Only half of them were actually drinking. We returned to the Es Pla at 1 leaving Dave and Garry to the vices of San Antonio night life.

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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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