Back from hols

A few memories from my holiday which I recorded at the time:

Days 1 & 2 (Tuesday and Wednesday) in Majorca. We arrive to hear that there's been a violent thunderstorm the previous day, but the weather's good at the moment. I've been reading To Die For by Linda Howard, one of my prizes from Piatkus last year (Winchester Conference). I polished it off yesterday and today. It was readable chicklit - fast moving and amusing some of the time, but the sex was repetitive and so was much of the dialogue. The conculsion to the murder mystery was weak, too. Do I think it was better than Tainted Tree? No.

We met up with Diane and Bob from Birmingham, who we last saw two years ago. Diane had borrowed my copy of The Moon's Complexion and then wanted one sent to her, together with A Bottle of Plonk. She telephoned earlier in the week, and when she heard I had a new book, asked me to bring a copy. She's reading it at the moment, having temporarily put aside her copy of Atonement.

Thursday: A holiday is not just for lazing in the sun. Part of it is to benefit from amd enjoy facilities that are not normally at your disposal. In the hotel, there are flowers on all the tables in the Reception area, and in the Ladies' room, adjacent to the bar; each towel is used only once and then thrown in the towel bin. I love that sort of luxury. I hasten to say that they have their own desalination plant, so not as wasteful as it sounds. I visit the gym for half an hour each day, trying to burn off the effects of good eating and lazing. Ten minutes each on the cycling machine, rowing machine and treadmill. And last night, I dragged M onto the dance floor to do a bit of stomping around. Most of the other guests were watching Man U. beat Chelsea. Not my scene.

At lunch the waiter mimed a penalty kick and said, 'Chelsea?' M did not follow, instead querying, 'Chelsea Flower Show?' What a wimpy response; he had to rectify it by explaining he liked rugby.