The continuing diaries of an Englishman abroad visiting such exotic places as Spain, USA, Malta and heaven knows where. Tagging along are his wife Pauline and daughter Emma.

Everything you are about to read is based on true events and real people. It may have been embellished beyond recognition for a cheap laugh but everything happened to a greater or lesser degree. Apart from the bits I made up. OK, and apart from the jokes. And apart from the fantasy sequences. But all the characters are real, believe me.


Exciting isn't it?


Saturday, 28 January 2012

Menorca 2003 - Day 13


No running cold water again this morning. Funny how this has only just started to happen since those Germans arrived isn’t it? Pauline says they have what sounds like a washing machine running most mornings and she thinks that’s emptying the cold water supply. Sounds doubtful to me but I’m not saying anything in case she’s right.

They’re at it again.

The Germans.

Both couples have stridden across the lawn just in front of where I’m sitting writing this. They’ve begun to unpack one of those sets of plastic beach boules now. Blimey, first it was golf, then tennis and now boules, what’s up with these people? Can’t they relax? And yes, they’re shouting and getting themselves all worked up to have a game of who can throw their big plastic balls closest to the small plastic white ball.

And it’s serious stuff again.

Not so much for the two women who seem to be less enthusiastic but the two men are again behaving as if they’re taking part in some world championship final. With each theatrical flourish of a throw they shout, scowl and hop about as they try and beat the pants off each other in what appears to me to be an excruciatingly boring game of nothingness.

Oh look out, one of the men has just yelled at the top of his voice and raised his arms above his head. Could it be by any chance that he thinks he’s won? Hang on though, now they’re all huddled round their plastic balls and the other man is measuring the distance between the little white ball and two of the big balls. He does this by standing with his feet in front of the big ball and freezes, standing stock still for 10 seconds or so as if he’s summoning all his inner strength and concentration for his next big move. Then placing each foot very, very, ever so carefully in front of each other he measures the distance. Each step is taking forever as he pauses after each one to make sure the heel of his foot is absolutely just touching the front of his other foot before moving on.

The other man is watching the man’s feet so closely that his nose is in danger of being trod on. As the man finally reaches the white ball there’s a big discussion about how much of his foot has reached it. Is it a full sandal length? Is it just a fraction less than a full sandal length? Hang on, they’ve agreed on something or other. Now the man with the feet is doing the whole thing again with one of the other balls. Dear oh dear, this is mind numbingly tedious stuff. OK, now it’s back to shouting and back slapping time as one of the men admits defeat and the winning man looks like he’s preparing to run a lap of honour around the park. They all start talking at once and gather up the equipment and march back inside.

Jesus Christ.

At dinner tonight the waiter played a good trick on Emma. Emma and Dan ordered the same dessert. The waiter looked at Emma said, “Sorry, we only got one left.” Emma looked disappointed and after a lot of umming and ahhing ordered something else. The waiter went away and eventually came back with the dessert that Emma had originally wanted after all. They hadn’t run out. It was all just a jolly Menorcan joke. How he laughed.

Even the soap in the bathroom is melting in the heat.

Lost a couple of small children to the ants today. Apparently it was pre-meditated. A group of suicide ants caused a diversion by swarming all over the sun beds and while the parents were boiling kettles of water the kids were taken. La Guardia have said that this is nothing unusual and have warned the parents to prepare for the worst.

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