Menorca 2003 - Day 4

The ants have just walked off with two bread rolls. Just hoisted them on their shoulders and off they went.

Didn’t do a thing today except read, eat, read, drink, eat, read and drink.

The weather’s really hot. The sort of heat that forces me into the shade for most of the day and just sitting or lying down makes the sweat run off me in small rivers.

And it’s no better at night.

For me it’s like sleeping on a wet flannel or on a water bed that’s lost its plastic cover. Has anyone ever drowned in their own sweat? I could be the first. As I write this, the paper’s getting soggier and soggier, the sun’s beating down and I think my body’s slowly filling up with perspiration. It’s running out of my eyes.

Look out; a pot plant’s moving across the floor.

Why do the ants want that?

We never see Dan and Emma much before 1 pm when they stumble around, have their breakfast and wander out to the pool or the beach for the rest of the day.

This morning we seem to have run out of calor gas. The gas faded away just as Pauline was preparing to cook Dan and Emma’s breakfast but not to worry the instructions left in the apartment are simple and straightforward. All I’ve got to do is disconnect the old cylinder and reconnect to the new cylinder. The instructions actually said ‘ Unclip the regulator from the old cylinder, push down and click onto new cylinder’ Piece of cake. Easy peasy.

I did as it said. Pauline turned on the gas and lit it. It spurted into life and immediately fizzled out again.

The bastards here before us had obviously used up one cylinder and just left it empty instead of replacing it, leaving us with no spare, so Pauline went out to the local phone box, rang the agent and they said, “Don’t worry, we’ll send David, he’ll be round shortly.”

David soon arrived with a brand new gas cylinder. He started to check out the one that I’d re-connected and said, “That’s funny, this one seems full.”

Uh oh, here we go, I thought, I haven’t connected it incorrectly have I?

David disconnected and reconnected the cylinder, lit the gas and it spurted into life. “It definitely went out before,” said Pauline.

“Looks OK now,” said David gathering his bits and pieces together. He gave me one of those tradesman’s looks, you know, the one where they look at you and wordlessly say something like, in my case, “Can’t you even do a simple thing like change a calor gas cylinder?”

Then, to the relief of us all, except David, the gas fizzled out again and while I was jumping up and down, punching the air and shouting, “Yes, Yes”, David reluctantly had another brainwave. “Probably the regulator,” he said, “haven’t got one with me so I’ll be back later.” Off he went and we were left without gas. Didn’t mind though, at least it wasn’t something stupid I’d done or not done. That showed him, bloody know-all. In the event, David showed up about an hour later, fixed the new regulator and everything was fine.

To give you an idea of the total inactivity of the day, that was the highlight.

Tonight at our evening meal we were sitting a couple of tables away from a couple with three kids; the oldest was probably four or five years old. All through the meal one or other of the kids escaped and ran off the terrace and out into the street. Every time I looked up I saw either the mum or the dad struggling back into the restaurant with a squirming child in their arms.

They were lucky the kids weren’t more organised. If all three of them had made a break for it at the same time the parents would have stood no chance.