Dear diary.
I am sitting in church with my pocket P. C. I love the versatility of this and the fact it really can be used just about anywhere
I worked out that I could purchase an S.D. card for just £30 and expand the memory slot to give me an MP3 player that I could use easily. My 60gb Ipod is great, but I get aggravated that it's tied into one p.c
We're off to Majorca, an island just off Spain in the Balearics. It should be a great holiday.
It's not until you sit back and look over the last however many months until you last went away that you realise just how tired you are and just how much you've done.
I'm taking my fully charged lpod and some good books away with me and I'm looking forward to a long needed rest.
I'm chucking a random picture of Harry in here after compiling my diary - I have no idea what he was doing here on holiday - but I do like the picture!
If you haven't listened to the podcasts, do have a listen to podcast 123, I'm planning to do far more music related shows, I know there are lots of these about already but they're seriously good therapy for me and I always feel great after doing them. What do you think?
Podcastcon 2006 is on its way, stay tuned for more information and bookmark
http://podcastcon.co.uk/ I'm pretty sure that there will be more discussion on Britcaster too.
Time for me to sign off now. I'll see if I can get access to the net whilst away, otherwise I'll see you in a week's time.
Update
I've just hit on the bright idea of updating this diary particularly as I'm now on the plane and looking to kill some time. I'm sat between a group of a dozen or so early twenty/ late teen lads and girls and the testosterone is palpable. The thought of two to three hours of 18-30 japes from kids who are barely shaving is stomach churning, particularly this close to midnight . One of them is wearing aftershave that smells like a cross between Chalk, sweat and Hai Karate and making my stomach churn.
One of the flight attendants looks like Peter Cushing in a wig and I can't stop thinking about the Hammer House of Horror classic "Frankenstein must die"
Time to sign off now whilst I watch some kid with a voice like Aled Jones try to get off with a girl who would make my 2O stone 6'4" dustbin man uncle Roger look possibly feminine. From the look of her she appears to have been shaving longer than me, let alone Aled.
Update one and a half hour later.
I have to put pen to, er pocket p.c to write about two of the butt ugly youths who are now kneeling on the seat and trying to get off with the bearded lady and her even stranger cohort. One of the lads looks like a 14yr old member of the rolling stones with so many acne scars he appears to resemble an ordinance survey map.
Map's mate looks like the character in the fatsuit from "Big Mama's House" with Bo Derek's hairstyle From "10". There really is no accounting for taste.
I'm now updating my diary in the wee small hours of 3rd August.
We,re here and its been horrendously hot, with temperatures in the mid to high 90's. Humidity has been around 80%. The steady drone of a hired fan cuts through the heady night air.
the hotel itself isn't too bad, it's a very 7O's building that has obviously seen better days.. there are 3 pools that you certainly wouldn't describe as Olympic, but my lads are happy,so it stands to reason I am too.
Update
Friday now and tomorrow is our last day. We hired a car, or should I say lawn mower masquerading as a car. We had a 900cc Kia something or other,whatever it was. It had the strength of Liberace on a bad day and the pulling power of Bella Enberg at her most frightful.
We drove into Puerto Polensa. A beautiful and rather up market resort. Unlike ours, you couldn't count the tattoos.
You could tell it was posh because the toilets had locks on the doors and the soap smelt like aftershave.
In Puerto we met up with a really good old mate of mine; John Crofts. John was, in fact is, still is, until 31st August, the headmaster at the primary school where Harry attends and all 3 boys have been.
We had a slap up lunch and a great time with John and his mate at their lovely hotel and a very civil time. For the first time in nearly a week, I had a cup of tea.
The odd thing that I've experienced with John and another old chum who's the same sort of age at 60 is that I don't sense any difference in age at all between them and me.
Both Of my chums are slightly older than my dad, but I feel I have so much in common with them both. And me, so immature! Poor blokes. they must be developing early Alzheimers.
My 60 year old mate said to me once: 'I can't believe it when I look at your dad and then mine. I keep thinking 'why is my dad older than Paul's?' ''
update
It's 5.56 on Saturday our last day here. I made the mistake of calling into work on Thursday and asking if i everything was ok. It wasn't.
A 20 fax page to me later and 20 fax page back just about did the trick of holding the fort. Sometimes I feel I have the best job in the world, other times, the worst
Im already ruing the flight back. We Check out on Sunday at 12 noon and don't fly back until 3am Monday. I need to get into work at 7am Monday to handle some urgent business which means a few snatched hours of sleep if I'm lucky.
Did I mention how much I love this pocket pc? I really wish it had the capability of WIFI though, it really would be perfect then. Sadly GPS and WIFI don't come cheap and I've more than spent my gadget allowance for the year.
I really need another poo. The water here does strange things to your stomach. My bowels must be like stainless steel at the moment...and for the third time in as many days, I'm convinced I've seen the ghost of a small child in the room.
6.14am should really be the cue to go back to sleep, yet my mind is buzzing. I'll read my book instead. Update you later.
It's now 10.55 pm and the weather has been shocking - torrential downpours for most of the day. There really was nothing else to do but raid the local perfumery and gift shops. I just want to get home now. I've had a good break,buut I crave the mundane routine I left behind. I'm more a creature of habit than I ever imagined.
Sunday 5.27 am
what on earth is wrong with me? I'm awake at such an early hour and can't get back to sleep. I'll be arriving home in about 24 hours time and will have to plunge straight into work. What a horrible prospect.
Perrhaps I have to much on my mind. I devoured a superb book in just two days, finishing yesterday. 'The Righteous Men' by Tom Bourne was a great read, a long one at 550 odd Pages, but very worthwhile.
The Story takes place in the Haddishim community in New York and is a fascinating thriller laced with ancient Jewish tradition. I haven't read 'The Davinci code' (I've seen the hammy film) but some critics are saying that my book is better. I know I couldn't put the book down, so I heartily recommend it.
3.10 am I'm now sat on the plane with Christian in a vile mood, he's a good kid usually, but when he's tired he's a complete and utter nightmare.
Fortunately there's no sign of the lager louts who were on the flight out, goodness alone knows what they've been up to.
4.40 am GMT - we've just landed and I've hardly slept. I've a full day of work ahead and I'm whacked....
7.40 am - Arrived at work, strangely euphoric and running on adrenalin.
8pm GMT. I arrived home around 6.45 GMT. I'm tired but dead happy to be home - and chuffed to drink a decent cuppa.
Holidays... who'd have 'em?
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