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?


Wednesday, 15 February 2012

Spain 2005 - Day 11


The girls went out last night and didn’t get back until around 8 am this morning. Pauline couldn’t sleep with worry about them while I seemed to naturally sleep all through it without any effort at all (apart from when Pauline kept waking me up to tell me the time and the fact that they weren’t home yet). As a result, Pauline has asked them to slip a piece of paper under our door every night when they get back in. At least that way she can then know they’re safely back whatever the time is. The big flaw with this as far as I could see was if they got back at 8 am there wouldn’t be any piece of paper until then so Pauline would be up and not sleeping half the night anyway.

Very windy by the pool today. The umbrellas are flying about everywhere even though they have sand-filled bases. Most people are lying down with one hand holding on to their umbrella for dear life. Not sure if this is to stop them or the umbrella from floating away. Pauline was lying getting her back tanned when a sudden gust blew the umbrella over belonging to an elderly German couple just to the right of her. It tottered slowly onto its side and before anyone could do anything about it, it had landed with an almighty crash on Pauline.

The good news was the heavy plastic base missed her by inches but the bad news was, one of the spokes of the umbrella gouged itself into her back as she lay there. Even more bad news was the fact that the spoke was not protected by a plastic sleeve like all the rest, this one was poking out as a pure metal spike. Pauline was understandably in agony and once I’d managed to look at the wound the umbrella spike appeared to have penetrated the skin on her back but instead of pushing itself further in, it had slid down her back leaving a nasty hole and large scratch across her shoulder blades.

The elderly German woman rushed to the bar for some ice while Pauline sat there recovering from the shock. Eventually I suggested that she wander over to the ‘first aid/lifeguard’ man by the pool to see if he could do anything to help. His concern for this woman in agony only ran to a splash of iodine and a plaster and no apparent sympathy at all so I didn’t think much of his customer care skills that’s for sure.

Bloody Germans eh?

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