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 6


Today we’ve decided to go to Mahon, the capital of the island. It’s only a 30 minute bus ride away and after managing to persuade Emma that it will be worth the effort of getting up before 1 pm she’s reluctantly agreed to come as well.

It’s another very hot day and it’s a relief to get on the bus with its air conditioning. Our apartment hasn’t got air conditioning and I miss it. I’m not meant to be in hot countries without air conditioning. I can’t function properly. I’m too pre-occupied with mopping my brow and every five minutes, saying to Pauline, “God, it’s hot isn’t it?” If I had my way I’d move my bed into the nearest air conditioned shop and sleep there. Maybe if I stay asleep long enough the ants will do it for me, then I’ve got someone to blame if I’m thrown out.

I must remember to wear my sun hat today but having washed it just before coming away it seems to have shrunk slightly. I mean it hasn’t shrunk so much that I have to wear it at a jaunty angle with elastic under my chin like those miniature party hats you get at Christmas but the headband feels just that little bit too tight and makes the hat feel like a furnace.

I don’t understand why sun hats, which are supposed to keep the sun off your head and consequently keep you cool, do just the opposite. You put a sun hat on and it just makes you feel hotter and hotter until you’re spending all your time taking it off to cool down then putting it back on to keep the sun off your head in case you feel hot only to take it off again in order to cool down.

Where’s the sense in all that?

Mahon was an interesting place.

I’d take my hat off to cool down, Dan would do the same.

I’d say, “Jesus, it’s hot.” Dan would do the same.

I’d put my hat back on, Dan would do the same.

Eventually we decided to stop for a snack and a drink. We found a bar with twelve tables outside, all occupied but as we approached, one table became vacant. We sat down. It still contained the remnants of the previous customer, glasses, bottles, sticky table surfaces and the saucer containing their bill along with the loose change they’d left as their tip. We sat for a while until Emma said, “Is he going to serve us?”

“Just be patient,” I said, “things are taken at a slower pace here. He’s seen us, I expect he’ll get round to us eventually.”

A few minutes passed and Emma said, “He hasn’t seen us, he hasn’t registered we’re here.”
“Yes he has, don’t worry,” I said.

Ten minutes later we were still sitting there. The waiter had been in and out, serving, cleaning and clearing tables but not once had he ventured anywhere near us. Not even to clear the table and perhaps more importantly, to pick up the tip. He must think we’re the people who have just finished and just haven’t left the table yet. I’ll just have to attract his attention. The waiter would emerge from the bar and purposefully serve somebody or clear away some debris while I sat twisting and turning in my seat trying to attract his attention by waving at him.

A couple of Spanish women strolled up to an empty table, sat down and immediately got his attention. The waiter served them and strolled away again. Another couple arrived and got served straight away. What’s going on?

“Oh this is ridiculous,” I said, “let’s just go and find somewhere else. He’s just not making eye contact with anyone, how am I supposed to attract his attention?”

“Shout at him,” said Pauline.

“I’m not going to shout at him,” I said.

“Oh for goodness sake,” she said, “Ola!”

The waiter looked up, came over and started to clear our table as if nothing was wrong.

“Right,” I said, “dos San Miguel, uno café con leche, uno agua. Uno bacon roll and tres tortilla Espanol por favour.”

“Si,” he said, writing it all down and he walked away.

A few minutes later he was back with the beer, the coffee but with a coke instead of the water. Off he went to replace the coke with water. Five to ten minutes later the waiter returned with one Spanish omelette which he gave to Pauline and one bacon roll for Dan. Off he went again.

“I expect he’s gone back for the other two Spanish omelettes,” I said to Emma. The minutes passed and there was no sign of him. By now I’d finished my coffee. “He must have thought I said one instead of three omelettes,” I said to Pauline, “I’ll get him over again.”

So there we were, trying to attract the attention of this damn waiter who wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone so all my waving and body language made absolutely no difference to the bloody waiter who was intent on not serving us yet again.

“You’ll have to shout at him again, like I did,” said Pauline.

“I’m not going to shout,” I said.

“Ola!” said Pauline.

The waiter looked up and came over like a shot.

“Er, dos tortilla Espanol,” I said, pointing at Emma’s and my empty place setting, “and encore café con lec……….” But before I could finish ordering the coffee he was off like lightning again.

Hearing me talking to myself about another coffee, Pauline said, “You’d better ask for the bill when he comes back with the omelettes or we’ll be here all day.”

“I can’t do that,” I said, “when he comes back I’ve still got to order my coffee and he’ll be off like a bloody bullet in between me saying coffee and bill before you know it. I’ll ask for the bill when he brings me the coffee.”

So back he came with the omelettes.

Café con leche,” I said.

“Si,” he said.

Back came the coffee.

“La quenta,” I said.

“Si,” he said.

Back came the bill.

No problems. Another perfect end to another perfect meal eh?

Pity it took most of the afternoon.

Spent what was left of the afternoon with some more sightseeing and booked ourselves onto a tour of Mahon harbour in a glass-bottomed boat. Now I’ve never been on a glass-bottomed boat before and I must admit I was looking forward to it. I also had this expectation that a glass-bottomed boat would have the bottom of the boat completely made out of glass. But did it? No. In fact, although the boat trip was interesting, the boat only had a small area of glass bottom, probably about two feet square and which everybody had to huddle round in order to look down at the ocean floor below. Bit of an anti-climax really.

I bought myself a new sun hat, the same size as the one I was wearing but obviously not as shrunk. It felt a lot more comfortable to wear but I still had to keep taking it off to cool down. So what was the point in getting it eh?

Menorca is famous for its cheese, so much so that they even have cheese flavoured ice cream. Emma wanted me to try it but I just couldn’t face it. I had ‘figs’ ice cream instead and very nice it was too. Certainly gave me a good run for my money.

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