EUROPE 2006

Here's my second travel journal which covers the often sublime and ridiculous things that happened to me during the early part of 2006 when I travelled throughout England, Scotland, The Canary Islands, The Balearic Islands and the island of Sardinia..................

January 11th, 2006  

GREETINGS FROM LONDON. 

O.K so I lied...................the moment I got on the plane, I realised that I must keep going with my weekly updates and continue on where I left off. So here goes...............

Remember, to stay on my "A LIST" you have to either send a return e-mail every couple of weeks, send copious amounts of money to the Geoff Dominy Travel Fund or both (if you are that way inclined). I will make them short, hopefully funny and insightful.

BRI TISH AIRWAYS

I don't like British Airways BUT I had no choice. The dates and times were the only ones that worked and although they tried to crush Virgin Airlines and Richard Branson, I am like all consumers, fickle as a pickle.

As I sat in the waiting lounge, I scanned my fellow travellers. I always do this trying to identify the passengers I would like to sit next too for the next 9 hours and the ones I pray will be sitting several rows away. Young children set off alarm bells especially after my trip to Maui. During that flight, the lady next to me promptly plonked her baby on my lap for the entire flight and he drooled all over me. Don't get me wrong, I love babies, I can relate to them. I was one once, so were you BUT I don't want to entertain them while their parents sleep, drink and have fun.

I got on the plane and you guessed it, sitting right in front of me was a toddler. Now, I could probably tolerate an average toddler but this little chap was anything but average. He was SUPER BABY who bounced around like he was being fed caffeine instead of milk. He seemed to like leaning over the seat, staring at me intently and drooling. There were five of them all together, the father, the mother, an older brother (who was about 12) and an older sister (about 14). The older brother faked sleeping the entire trip, kept sticking his elbow into my rib cage and periodically rested his head on my shoulder. For those of you who know me well, I am a confirmed cuddler but I do prefer to cuddle people who do not have the same equipment as myself. It just feels odd. I am convinced that he was avoiding looking after his younger brother. Still, I got my own back, the poor bastard missed both his meals.

On the subject of meals, it must have been a British Chef who prepared my meals. No salmon would willingly die if they realised what lay in store for them at the mercy of a BA Chef. I think it was partially fossilized. The pasta on the other hand resembled "Mushy Peas". Boiled to the point where the molecular structure just gives up. Anyway, I have come to expect airline food to be less than edible so I mustn't complain.

The woman across from me was odd. Her husband was sitting in the aisle seat and everytime she got out of her seat, she straddled him. Now before you get the wrong idea, they were in their late 60's. People in their late 60's should not be allowed to straddle each other................period. I think he enjoyed it, I know she enjoyed it, I didn't.

When I got out of Heathrow and the connecting bus to catch the tube into London, the P.A announced that the tube to COCKFOSTERS was arriving........only in England could some-one say this with a straight face.

I watched the Wedding Crashers on the flight............if you haven't seen it, you should. It was hilarious.

Tomorrow, I fly out to Mallorca for a month. Time to re-charge my batteries, get some rest and hopefully learn some rudimentary Spanish so that when I head to Peru in April, I don't look like a complete dork.

As for tonight, here's the agenda......

1. A Brie/Basil and Tomato Baguette from Pret A Manger.
2. The Sun Newspaper (did you know they have naked girls on Page Three)
3. A pint of John Smith's Extra Smooth (to hell with my New Year's Resolution) and then back to the hostel to sleep with one, two or possibly three strange men. Life is tough on the road...........it's not all fun and games.

I hope you are all having fun. Smile often, send me an e-mail or send me cash. I would be happy either way.

January 14th, 2006

GREETINGS FROM SUNNY MALLORCA

First of all, thank you all for your e-mails. This "A List" has really got you all worried but in reality, you are all on my list because (a) I love you to bits or (b) I want to make you insanely jealous......or both...............

THE BEST LAID PLANS OF MICE AND MEN.......

I am not sure where this expression came from but Thursday night in London proved challenging to say the least. When I left you all, I headed to the newsagents to buy a copy of The Sun only to find out what they were sold out and every other newsagent in the vicinity was also sold out. I guess British males prefer naked women to news stories. I settled for the Daily Mirror which is the equivalent of The Province written by the head writer of "Days Of Our Lives". I know who´s screwing who, I just don´t have a clue what is happening in the real world. I headed to the PRET and feasted on a fabulous brie/basil and tomato baguette and then headed to The Porcupine to re-aquaint myself with Mr John Smith. I knew something was wrong when I surveyed all the beer taps and didn´t see his name. Nervously, I asked the batender for a pint of John Smith´s and a packet of Salt and Vinegar Crisps. To my horror, he muttered the words "Sorry mate, we don´t sell John Smith´s or crisps". I was stunned. What is the world coming too, I don´t care about the decline of the British Empire but I do care about John Smith. He informed me that they have not served it for seven months  (I left Britain 7 months ago) and that they don´t do crisps. Now, believe me, there was a time when you could travel the length and breadth of England, you could go to the tiniest pub, in the tiniest hamlet, in the most remote part of the country and find a packet of Walkers Salt & Vinegar crisps. Why not in the centre of London. He offered me "Pistachios".

A WORD ABOUT NUTS............

I don´t want to offend any squirrels but I am not a nut lover. I don´t mind salted peanuts or peanut butter but I have always thought they were more trouble than they were worth. Years ago, my brain, my mouth and my stomach made an unholy pact. Anything, with the exception of a toothbrush, dental floss or various forms of cutlery that goes in my mouth ends up in my stomach. It´s a system that has worked flawlessly for almost 47 years. I tried sunflower seeds once and it wasn´t pretty. I tended to spit out the kernels and swallow the shells. In the end, I sucked off the salt and spat the entire thing out. Patience, I guess, was never a virtue.

Dejected, I settled for a pint of Guiness and a glass full of nuts. Honestly, what the hell is the world coming too ????????????????

THE HOSTEL.................

I don´t know if any of you have dared to see the new movie "The Hostel" but I could easily have imagined starring in it on Thursday night.

I arrived back at the hostel, tired, depressed and ready for a good nights sleep. When I checked in, the room was empty and I prayed that when I returned that night, it would be the same. I gingerly opened the door and was hit by the most offensive smell every encountered by a member of the human race. It was like being thrust into a hockey bag and have some-one zip it up. I could feel the Guiness and the nuts (the pistachios) starting to rise. It was dark but there appeared to be a human being sleeping above my bed and he stank. I thought about leaving but at 12 pounds a night, the girl downstairs would only roll her eyes and laugh. Holding my breath, I stumbled into the bathroom. The smell was even worse. I quickly rolled deodorant all over my body (including my face), wrapped a towel around my head and sprinted under the covers. I honestly looked like Lawrence of Arabia in soccer shorts. Even with all the deodorant and the towel, the smell pentrated my nostril cavities. It was horrible. The only plus side...................I only had endure it for 8 hours. Some poor woman is going to have to put up with that for a lifetime.

STANSTED AIRPORT

I got up really early, made sure I woke the sorry bastard and generally made a nuisance of myself. I wanted to say something but what can you really say. Anything I said would have seemed redundant. If he hasn´t figured it out yet, then that´s his problem. I wonder if he gets any dates ????????????

Everything went well except for the fact that I purchased a return ticket to Standsted and then realised that the return date (it was a one month pass) expired the day before I returned. Damn..................

I talked to the ticket girl on the train and he told me to talk to the Standsted Express people at the airport.

WHY GROWN MEN SHOULD NEVER BE GIVEN A UNIFORM.

Luckily for me, I got MR OFFICIOUS behind the counter. No, they couldn´t change it, no they couldn´t refund it (unless I paid a 10 pound Admin Charge on a 12.50 ticket) and no, I was well and truly screwed. I asked to speak to the supervisor and was directed down the platform. Mr Mower (I wonder if he smokes grass ????) was understanding and agreed to sell me two one ways for another 5 pounds............is that really fair ?????? Anyway, I was off to Mallorca and I decided that nothing, even an officious twit, was going to ruin my fun.

MALLORCA

Well nothing has really changed. It´s sunny, about 13 degrees and I have a humble (very humble) studio apartment that is right on the beach. I look out over the marina and the Mediterranean Ocean. At 22 € a night (about $ 30), it´s not bad..........................REALLY.

So it´s the fourth day of being unemployed, technically homeless, carless and phoneless and I am really HAPPY. I got off the treadmill of life and I am loving it Jerry. It´s a truly liberating experience..................trust me. If you follow your heart, you will never look back and regret it. You may not always make the best decision but you can always live with it.

Have fun, smile often and write soon.

January 16th, 2006

I hope you are all well.

Well it is DAY 3 1/2 in Mallorca and I am soooooooooo bored. My days consist of sleeping in until 10am, lounging around the apartment, visiting the local grocery store to stock up on provisions, sipping tea and reading the English newspaper at Gilly´s, surfing the internet and riding to and from Palma on the bus. In between, I sit on the beach, work on my tan and play "Spot The Person". There are dirty dishes in the sink, clothes strewn about the apartment, my hair hasn´t seen a comb in a week and I haven´t shaved since I left Canada. YES..............it's really me. Quite a change from my normal routine.

MALLORCA IN THE OFF SEASON

To sum it up, they played Enya, The Bee Gees and Culture Club on the bus today. I don't know if any of you have ever heard of Enya but she has made a fabulous living off making one album and releasing it over and over again. The songs are so forgettable that it is impossible to even hum one seconds after you have just heard it. All she does is change the album cover and re-arrange the order of the songs. I tried to organize a sing-a-long on the bus but no-one seemed interested. In the end, it was just Boy George and Moi.

Of course, I feel for the native Mallorcans, they have to put up with British and German tourists for most of the year so they do deserve some down time. The grocery store below my apartment has been closed since I arrived. Sunday, to my horror, I found myself without any groceries. Unbelievably, nowhere was open. I ended up eating a stale baguette, dried out cheese, a banana yogurt that was so full of preservatives I grew an extra limb and a cup of tea. Paradise.........

At night, Can Pastilla gives way to gangs of German senior citizens. They walk four abreast, never yield to oncoming traffic and spray paint grafitti on the store shutters at night. I have encountered many soccer hooligans in my time, these guys scare the crap out of me.

I forgot to mention.....................

ARRIVING AT U.K CUSTOMS

In Canada, I am used to being treated like a third class criminal whenever I go through customs. If I made the mistake of telling them my occupation, I usually ended up feeling like cream cheese, expecting at any moment to be told, by some over zealous customs official, to "Spread Them". When I went up to the English Girl at U.K Customs, she looked at my passport and said, with a smile, "Welcome Home Mr Dominy". She didn't ask where I had come from, how long I had been away, if I had anything to declare, what I had purchased or what I did for a living............nothing. I felt like saying "Should I declare the surface to air missile in my hand luggage ?" but I didn't. What a nice change.....................very civilized...............very British.

TRAVELLERS CHEQUES

Do you remember the old saying "Don't Leave Home Without Them ?" Well it does not apply in Mallorca. So far, no-one in Mallorca has agreed to take a travellers cheque. Of course, I am loaded down with them...........why on earth would I have bought cash with me ? I feel like leaving them in the street and then declaring them stolen. The only problem with that..........Thomas Cook would just give me more travellers cheques. Only one bank was willing to do it and I was immediately suspicious because he kept smiling at me. Bankers never smile unless they are going to screw you right, left and centre, they are gay or both. . Considering I only wanted to cash a € 50 travellers cheque, he seemed to be going overboard punching all manner of numbers and letters into his computer. It was at that point that I suddenly realised what he was typing.

N.O.W.....M.R.....C.O.M.P.U.T.E.R........H.O.W....C.A.N...I....T.O.T.A.L.L.Y.....
S.C.R.E.W....T.H.I.S.....M.I.S.E.R.A.B.L.E....E.X.C.U.S.E....F.O.R....A...T.O.U.R.I.S.T..O.U.T..
O.F...E.V.E.R.Y....P.E.N.N.Y....H.E....O.W.N.S ?

The computer was obviously listening because as he slipped the transaction slip across the counter, with an even broader smile, it said € 50 less € 6.39 commission  = € 43.61. I looked at him with my mouth wide open, he smiled back and said something in Spanish. I told him, in English, to stick the commission, all of it, where the Mallorcan Sun doesn't shine. He smiled again...............I guess he gets told that a lot by frustrated tourists. If my calculation is correct, that about 12.5% commission to convert travellers cheques into the SAME CURRENCY.

THE MOVIE.............BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

Forget about starring in THE HOSTEL, I think I can now follow up my stint on the Canadian Antiques Roadshow by staring in the sequel to Brokeback Mountain. Having rented a mountain bike (my first time on a bike in almost 33 years.........excluding an exercise bike) I now walk like Heath Ledger. I'm just glad I am still not living in the West End !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AND FINALLY....................

I asked my apartment supervisor if I could re-paint my apartment. I thought it would be fun to watch it dry. He declined my offer............so.........I need to do something drastic. This lounging around is driving me mad. Gemini´s need constant stimulation to keep them amused so I will either catch a ferry to Menorca (a plane ticket costs more than it did to fly from London to Palma) or  join the German senior citizens at night. I am handy with a spray can and I know enough German to get me by.

P.S You are all invited to my 105th Birthday Bash in Mallorca in the off-season. All expenses paid. I think, I may just be able to handle all the excitement.

January 18th, 2006

O.K...........now we are really in trouble. I have found an even cheaper internet cafe so................here goes.

SPANISH TIME

Well it finally happened. Without me noticing, I finally slipped into "Spanish Time". Last trip, it took me three visits to Spain to get into the swing of things, this time four days. I now walk slower, talk slower, think slower and do everything (well almost everything) slower. I don't know why I resisted it...........it feels good. I think Spaniards may have discovered the secret to eternal life................you do bugger all, all day, and then party your hearts out until the wee hours of the morning.

SPANISH 101

Thanks to Hilary & Chris, I have been studying my "Spanish For Dummies" book religiously. I think I now have a 50/50 chance of either speaking Spanish fluently or being a complete dummy. Here's hoping for the former. Last night, I even learnt how to conjugate a verb (which to be honest, I thought was illegal in most countries). Anyway, today, armed with my new found knowledge and confidence, I decided to try it out on some poor unsuspecting Spaniard. I decided to go to a McDonalds, in downtown Palma, to try it out.

I waited nervously in line behind some German "Cleaning Lady" tourists who insisted on speaking German. The girl didn't seem impressed and I was sure that she would be happy when I started conversing fluently in her native tongue. When it was my turn, I stepped forward, much like George did on Seinfeld when he was faced with the "Soup Nazi". Suddenly, I was transformed............my fears melted away and I started to speak fluent Spanish.........it was really quite awe inspiring. 

I asked her what time the train arrived from Santiago, how her cousin was in Buenos Aires, what brand of camera she recommended, how much it cost to buy three rolls of film, if she would mind polishing my shoes, where I could find a dentist. I told her I was on sedatives, that there was an accident a kilometre away and finally that my clutch did not work. She looked bewildered, bemused and a little pissed off. She also seemed to glance at my nether regions (perhaps she thought I said my "crotch" didn't work) which was a bit disconcerting. The German tourists behind me seemed even more annoyed (which is a good thing) and I felt like a million bucks. Finally.......like a matador thrusting the final sword into the poor bull, I announced that I would like a cup of tea with milk. To my utter surprise, she duly obliged. Thrilled, I left McDonalds with my head held high, I felt Spanish for the first time in my life and it felt very good. I sat down in the sun, opened the lid and to my horror, discovered that instead of tea with milk, she had given me COFFEE WITH MILK. If you could have seen my face...................honestly, if I can't even order a cup of tea in Spanish, how I am going to cope in Peru. Still, it could have been worse. Twice at McDonalds in Vancouver, I have been served a cup of coffee with a tea bag in it !!!!!

MY NEIGHBOURS..............

Talking about bulls...........I think my neighbour upstairs is studying to become a matador because several times last night, he yelled "Ole" as if his life depended on it and his girlfriend/wife responded with a giggle. I saw them this morning, she still had both her ears and he was wearing a broad smile on his face. Maybe he is a banker.............or maybe they had sex last night. Anyway, if it happens again tonight, I will join in with a few "Oles" of my own.

MUESLI

I have to hand it to the Swiss. They may be DEAD BORING but at least they have invented something that is quite extradordinary.................muesli. It's an odd cereal because if you put too much milk in it, it resembles pablum and you are instantly transformed back to your childhood, too little and it becomes "Portland Cement". It occurred to me that perhaps "Habitat For Humanity" could endorse this product and created edible housing. It's just a thought.....................

ADAPTORS

This morning, I decided that the beard had to go. I was starting to look like the "Not So Old Man Of The Sea". I have never had any luck with adaptors. I had a particularly nasty experience with an adaptor once in Sri Lanka that nearly caused a riot. I was staying at the Mount Lavina Hotel and Sri Lanka were in the finals of the World Cup Of Cricket. I plugged a razor into an adaptor and basically thrust the entire hotel into darkness. Sparks and flames shooting everywhere. I felt like barbequed chicken. This morning, I did the same thing. I was half asleep, dreaming about another day of lounging around Mallorca doing nothing when suddenly, flames leap out of the electrical outlet and the entire place went dark. I am unsure why this is ????????? You can use a phone anywhere in the world, fax some-one on the other side of the planet, log onto the internet in the remotist corner of the world but we can't standardize electrical outlets. Unfortunately, most of these adaptors are "Made In China". I'm sorry.................but is this a good idea ???? What do the Chinese know about electrical outlets in Mallorca ???????? Apparently.........bugger all.

CLEANING LADY

I seem to have inherited the cleaning lady from Seinfeld at my apartment. The only difference, no money exchanges hands and there's no sex involved. I am really not sure what she does. She doesn't sweep the floor, she doesn't change the towels, she sure doesn't clean the dishes or rinse out the bathroom sink. I think she comes into my place, plonks herself down on the bed and reads a novel. I found some sunflower seeds the other day.................

POPPY'S BAR

I went to Poppy's last night (don't order the duck). It's this weird English Pub. The sign says "Open 11am til Late" but it only seems to be open whenever there is a football match on Sky T.V. I watched Leeds lose to Wigan. I must admit, it was infinately better than watching them live in Leeds. After my experiences in Leeds last year and the riot police, I was grateful to have a thousand miles and one time zone between us. I chatted all night to Jim from Hereford. He is a staunt Leeds supporter. The problem was, I really didn't understand a word he said all night. Everytime he spoke, I either nodded, said "Hmmm" or just tilted my head and smiled. He had his mobile phone hooked up so that every time Leeds scored, it rang and played the official Leeds Hooligan Anthem. Everytime a Leeds player made a mistake, he yelled "DONKEY" as if HIS life depended on it. Maybe he should take up bullfighting.

EASYJET

I am now a new found fan of EasyJet. I know last year, I gave them a hard time. Well because of me, they have modified their system. Now it's families with small children first, then you are grouped, depending on when you check in, into either Group A, B, C or D. This works well for me because when you board, you already know where the children are seated so you can avoid sitting in front, behind or beside them.

SPANIARDS

Honestly, yesterday, it was 21 degrees Celcius and you would have thought that it was minus 21 degrees based on how my fellow bus passengers were dressed. It probably explains why Spain has never really been a force in international football or why they left the pillaging of any country north of the equator to the Vikings and the Romans. I was dressed in a t-shirt and they were bundled up in sweaters, down-filled jackets and toques.

On the subject of Spanish conquests, why did they miss out on Brazil ???? They conquered every country from Florida to Tierra Del Fuego but missed the most important country. Those wily Portuguese must have been killing themselves laughing. While the Spaniards were logging air miles and taking siestas, the Portuguese snuck in and stole the jewel of South America. I am a little choked because Brazil is one place I would love to go. I think it would be romantic to cruise down the Amazon in a hollowed out tree trunk and sip tea with the Native Indians. As "Spanish For Dummies" points out, it works in every country except Brazil...................great.

AN ARK..............PERHAPS ????????????

Put me down for $ 100 if you are planning on building an ark in Vancouver. It's rained here once, for about 20 minutes. We do however, have to modify the terms. I know several lovely gemmologists, so none of this two by two crap. It's all or nothing.

AND FINALLY.................

In desperation, I e-mailed Thomas Cook about the travellers cheques and today it came back as.................UNDELIVERED..............GREAT. I guess I should have left home without them.

January 21st, 2006

Well I thought I would wait a couple of days before I bombarded you with more of my aimless musings. I have now not only slipped well and truly into "Spanish Time" but more importantly into "Spanish Island Time" and believe me there is a difference. If Spain had operated on "SIT" when they were busy conquering the world (well at least the warm parts), they would have probably made it as far as Gibraltar (funny how they missed that one). It's really tiring being bone idle 24 hours a day. I think if I do write a book, I shall call it "The Pros and Cons of Being Idle" or maybe "Europe On A G-String"

So before you all start quitting your jobs, I need to assure you that my new lifestyle does have a downside. For example, this morning, I fussed for well over a second about what I should wear. Should I wear the blue t-shirt or the green t-shirt ? Should I wear my "Big Bird" boxers or my "Daffy Duck" speedos. Then, I had to decide what to have for breakfast (I settled on this new Chunky Muesli with Chocolate Chips......................Man......I love the Swiss). Then I had to decide whether to shower before breakfast or afterwards. By now, I was a little stressed. I went on the internet for about an hour and then got to Gilly's only to find out that some-one had nicked this mornings Sun (not the real Sun..........I mean the one with..........well.......you know.......the cute Yorkshire Lass on Page 3). Man that was annoying, I could feel my blood pressure going through the roof. Then I had to decide, after sitting in the sun for well over an hour reading the paper (which incidentally I had to buy for a whopping ª 2.00), what to have for lunch. After that it was Spanish lessons for an hour, an intensive workout on the bike (I am going to kill a German Tourist next time they decide to step out in front of my bike) and then it was back to the apartment for a nap. Then I had to decide what to make for dinner. Too many difficult decisions to make in one day.

So you see, we all have stress in our lives..................even me.

CYCLING..........

On the subject of cycling, I am becoming quite proficient on my mountain bike. The other day, I cycled to S'Arenal which is about a 6 km round trip. Forget about Heath Ledger, I now walk more like Posh Spice, in high heels, wearing a thong that is three sizes too small. Along the way, I was joined momentarily by a crack cycling team from Germany. When I say momentarily, I mean, they whizzed by me so fast, they nearly knocked me off my bike. I also rode briefly with a crack Russian team. I say Russian because they seemed in a hurry. They definately weren't Slovaks.

ON THE SUBJECT OF RUSSIA............

There is a travel agent in Palma that is promoting cheap flights to Moscow. Now correct me if I am wrong but doesn't the equation:

Moscow + Mid January = %&/%$& COLD ?????????

Napolean tried it once, missed his flight connection and landed in Russia in the middle of the winter. He hot footed it back to France with his tail and his hot water bottle firmly clasped between his legs. Why would any intelligent Mallorcan trade sea, sand, sun, palm trees and cheap beer for Moscow in January ? Mind you, the same travel agent was offering cheap "Gay or Lesbian" Cruises around the Mediterranean. I thought about it for a second but to be honest, I am really not sure that I could pass as a lesbian. Might be fun to try though..............

REVISED TRAVEL PLANS

Much as I LOVE Mallorca (even in the off-season) I have decided to take a cheap flight with Air Berlin (or as Turkish would say in the movie "Snatch"........Zee Germans) on February 1st to the Canary Islands for a week. I have promised myself however, that this time, I am not going to wear lederhosen, drink schnapps or inflate the life vest on the flight. I hear the Canary Islands are always warm, the snorkeling is great, the beer is cheap and they also speak Spanish. Perhaps they also have a McDonalds........................

TO KILL A CLOWN................

My apartment building is located right next to a "Penny Arcade". Outside there is this annoying "Clown Ride" that plays "Well I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee" EVERYTIME some-one passes it. There must be some sensor on the machine. I have become OBSESSED with this Clown because regardless of whether my patio window is open or shut, I can hear it. If I had a Euro for everytime I have heard that bloody tune, I would be very rich. I AM going to kill that clown..............I just haven't figured out how. Maybe I should plug it into my Chinese adaptor..............that should do it.

THOMAS COOK.............

If his distant cousin James only knew...................he would turn in his grave.

I finally managed to send them an e-mail only to get back an automated response back saying that they would contact me within THREE WORKING DAYS. Can you believe it ? I am having a crisis (well sort of) and all they can promise is a response in three working days !!!!!! Can you imagine any other business getting away with that ??? I always thought it was funny when McDonalds used to say to you "You're order will be ready in 3.25 seconds" What would have happened if they had said "Thank you for ordering your Big Mac.............you can pick it up in 3 days !!!!!!"

Now, enquiring minds want to know............is this three "Normal" working days or three "Spanish" working days or three "Spanish Island" working days ? If it's the latter, I should hear from them sometime next month. Maybe I can get a two for one and do the Clown and Thomas Cook at the same time. So much for the ads..................

SARDINIA

I read an article in the EasyJet in-flight magazine about Sardinia. Apparently, it is not for the faint of heart. It's rugged, unspoilt and definately not geared to the average tourist. To be honest, it has always been a place that has appealed to me. Any island that names itself after a fish of minisual proportions has my vote. I checked out the EasyJet website and I can get there for an amazing 19 pounds return (that's about $ 43.00 Canadian). Now I ask you...................how can they do this ? This is not just a hop, skip and a jump, Sardinia is in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea about 120 miles off the Italian Coast. Perhaps Air Canada should study EasyJet ? Of course, there could be a catch. Maybe on the flight home, they stop the plane and demand (like a taxi driver did once to me in Sri Lanka) that you pay double the fare or else. If that's their game plan, they have picked the wrong person. I will go anywhere. I think I was a lemming in a previous life. I will jump off any cliff provided I have company.

On the subject of Sardinia, I can't really think of any other country (with the exception of Turkey) that is named after an animal or a fish unless of course you count Wales.

SPANISH 101 Continued.............

After my pathetic display the other day, my confidence is low. I can't seem to get a handle on some of the grammatical aspects of the language. For example, "LL" is pronounced as a "Y", "H's" are mute, "J's" are pronounced as "H's", "Q's" are pronounced as "K's". Honestly, wouldn't it be easier to revamp the whole language, get rid of all the "J's", change all the "Q's" to "K's" and replace all those pesky double "L`s. My "Spanish For Dummies" book explains how to pronounce a "V". The written pronounciation is "bveh". How the hell do you pronounce that ???????????? They say it sounds halfway between a "B" and a "V". Isn't that an "M" ????????? They also say you should purse your lips and as you are about to say a "B", change it to a "V". I tried this, at the internet cafe, and spat at the poor guy. Maybe instead of writing a book about nothing, I should write a "Spanish For Complete Dorks" book.

A FINNISH SAILOR...........

Earlier this year, I compiled a list of "Places" and "People" that I would like to see or meet before I snuff it. In the end, it grew to some 800 things in total.

Here are the final 6 things on my list:

#794 - Visit Vienna...................again.
#795 - Have an Austrian Hostel worker rifle through my undies in the lobby of a Viennese Hostel.............again.
#796 - Come back, in my next life, as a Swiss National.
#797 - Attend a Leeds United home game...............again.
#798 - Meet a Finnish Sailor.
#799 - Work for a mad communist Serbian Gemmologist (DONE)
#800 - Have an intellectual conversation with George Bush (IMPOSSIBLE)

Last night.............I met a Finnish Sailor (I know there is a joke in there somewhere, I just not sure where) at the internet cafe.

ANOTHER MAD GERMAN..............

I was cycling back from S'Arenal this afternoon when I saw a guy on a bike. He seemed to be losing control of it and was clutching his chest. Eventually he fell to the ground. I rushed over, afraid that he was having a heart attack. I asked him if he was alright. He said "Jah". I told him to sit down while I tried to find a doctor. He said he was alright, got back on his bike and promptly fell into the bushes. I pulled him out, dashed off to the doctors office (they were closed because it was siesta time.....GREAT.......I guess you aren't allowed to die between 2pm and 5pm, in Spain, which is encouraging). When I got back to him, he was again trying to ride his bike. I suddenly realised that he seemed familiar. Of course.........he resembled the guy I saw in the mirror about 5 hours after finishing the Polar Bear Swim on New Year's Day.

I asked him if he had been drinking. "Jah" he said with great gusto. I told him to get off the bike. He told me he loved me............GREAT. In all of Mallorca, I had to find the only gay drunk cyclist who fancies me. I told him I loved him too but he had to get OFF THE BIKE. He again professed his love for me (suggesting that I might like to take a Mediterranean Cruise) and tried to ride off. I noticed four Police cars parked just down the road so I sprinted to get their help. Unbelievably, not one of the four police officers could speak or understand English. In desperation, I tried Sign Language, German, Polish, Greek even Swahili but nothing worked. I thought it was very odd that on an island that is predominately populated by drunken Brits and Germans, no-one could understand me. I hope the guy got home...........they say Sweden and Norway are notorious for public drunkenness but I have to confess, I have never seen a drunk trying to ride a bike. In hindsight, it really was quite funny. At least in my case, I had the good sense to walk home............I think.

A FELLOW GYPSY.........

I thought the other day, as I sat on my balcony watching the most amazing sunset over the Mediterranean, how nice it would be to have a fellow gypsy along for the ride. It reminds me of the time I sat on the beach at the Galle Face Hotel in Colombo, Sri Lanka and watched the sun set over the Indian Ocean.

I have had several offers BUT you guys all want ME to cover the airfare........ hmmmmmm.................let me think that one over......

January 24th, 2006 

Well I thought in addition to trying to tickle your funny bone, I would also mention a little something about the places I have been visiting. After all, if I am going to write a travel book, it should include something about the sights and sounds, not just my Mr Bean-like encounters.

Thank you for all your wonderful e-mails. I am very lucky to have such weird and wacky friends. If I do write a book, I will dedicate it to all of you.

Anyway, this update includes my views on "Mallorcan Threesomes", "Virgins", "Peeing in a Public Place", "Spanish Driving", "Food Fights" and of course my favourite subject "Smart Cars". So here goes.................

AS THREESOMES GO..............

Well as "Threesomes" go, I think Valldemosa, Deia and Fornalutx must rank right up there. No...........they are not girls, they are Mallorcan towns. I think if God did create the world, she was having a really, really good day when she created these three jewels. If you can envision the absolute perfect Sleepy Spanish town, all three would fit the bill. In fact, if I had to pick the top three places I have ever visited in the world, they would all be in contention for the top spot.

I rented a zippy Puegot today and headed for the hills.I got lost in Palma (if that is even possible with the sea to the south and the mountains to the north), lost a drag race to a Smart Car (more on that later) and finally found my way to Valldemosa. It hadn't changed, it was so peaceful and devoid of any tourists. I walked around the Monastery grounds, checked out the souvenir shops, soaked up the atmosphere and had some lunch. I then headed to Deia along this beautiful winding road that hugged the Mediterranean Coast. The water is amazing at this time of the year, absolutely crystal clear. I am sure that if you dropped a euro into it, you would still be able to see it as the plane took off. As I turned the corner, Deia stood in front of me with the beautiful stone wall terraces, the gorgeous stone buildings with the green shutters and the cobbled pavements. I parked the car and roamed around the town. It was just how I had imagined it and I was truly thankful. I then headed for Fornalutx. The approach was truly awe inspiring, the entire area is covered with Orange and Lemon Tree groves. I have never seen so many in my life. If I lived to be 1,000, I couldn't squeeze that many oranges or lemons. Of the three, I think Fornalutx is the prettiest. I would hate to see it in the height of the tourist season, jammed with tour buses and tourists. In the off-season, it is so peaceful & tranquil.......it's absolute heaven.

On the way home, I decided to tackle the mountain road back to Palma. Last year, I took the wrong turn and ended up doing the tunnel toll road. It scared the crap out me because it was the longest tunnel I had ever tackled on a scooter and I realised, about 5 seconds into the tunnel, that I had "Tunnel Phobia". The mountain road was a series of switchback bends that rivalled the road to Sa Calobra that I did last time. It's now the 2nd craziest road I have driven. This island just never ceases to amaze me. I know I rave about this place an awful lot BUT you have got to see it for yourselves. There really aren't enough adjectives. I am really not exaggerating. I am truly under it's spell.

SMART CARS

I know I have made fun of them in the past but today, I saw the funniest thing. There was a PASSENGER, tucked BEHIND the driver. It was definately not a DEAD BODY because she waved at me (or maybe she was asking for my help ?). I cannot think of anything more degrading than being a back seat passenger in a Smart Car............other than owning one of course. I hear they are sold with a years supply of sardines. What a marketing gimmick....................I also saw a police officer giving a driver a ticket................can't imagine why. I don't think I have ever seen a "Can Of Soup" being ticketed before.

A NOW A WORD FROM MY SPONSOR..............THOMAS COOK

Dear Geoff

Thank you for contacting Thomascook.com

Thomascook UK sell  travellers cheque's issued by Amex.  As you have
purchased your travellers Cheque's through Thomas Cook in Vancouver we
are unable to assist you with your enquiries.  We are unaware what Bank
issues Travellers Cheque's in Canada.

Please contact Thomas Cook Canada on www.thomascook.ca and they will be
able to assist you further

We are sorry we can be of no assistance to you at this time.

Kind Regards

Claire Giggal
Customer Support

HERE'S MY RESPONSE.............

Claire,

YOU are kidding me right ??????????? They are Thomas Cook Mastercard travellers cheques. Should it make a difference ?????? I am in Mallorca WITH Thomas Cook travellers cheques that NO-ONE will cash. I don't care where I purchased them, they are supposed to be accepted worldwide, perhaps you should say in your ads "If you purchased Thomas Cook Travellers Cheques in Canada..............you are well and truly screwed".

Perhaps you could have a supervisor contact me BECAUSE, as you have gathered, I am not happy at all with Thomas Cook or your response to my situation.

Regards

Geoff Dominy

THIS ONES FOR BILL, PATRICK & ROSS......

Now I know this next section will be considered entirely sexist, but here goes.

Yesterday, I was sitting on a bench, on the main street in Valldemosa, eating my home-made cheese baguette. I like to people watch, especially when I am travelling. Along the road came the most incredible pair of legs I have ever seen. If you have ever heard the song by ZZ Top "Legs", these must have been the inspiration. I attained instant "Groupie Status" in 1.25 seconds flat. In fact, if my heart had been an engine, I would have blown all gaskets in 1.20 seconds flat. They honestly belong in a museum. Perfectly tapered, symmetrical, tanned, muscular but not in a manish way with calves that looked like they had been sculptured from clay. She was wearing the most amazing Romanesque sandals with wafer thin soles and leather straps that caressed her calves. I was so gobsmacked that my lower jaw involuntarily dropped open and the remnants of my baguette (not that baguette.......Hilary) fell to the floor. I was not alone, every man, woman and child stood still to admire the sight. It was like being in the twilight zone. She was with a guy and when I say "She", I am making a massive assumption because to be honest, I never made it past the short faded black denim skirt. In fact, if I had been called to a police line-up and offered a zillion dollars, I would never have recognised her if she had been wearing trousers.

Anyway.................even now, 24 hours later, I am feeling light headed.  

THE CLOWN GUY

As I was leaving the apartment, the owner of the Penny Arcade was wheeling out "George The Clown". I call him "George" because he looks somewhat like George Bush, you know, big, dumb and stupid with a vacant look on his face and the intelligence of a door mouse. I gestured to him about the song (in fact I did a small rendition). He laughed, threw his hands up in the air (much like an Italian man would do when he is caught with his trousers down, with his mistress by his other mistress), and shrugged his shoulders. Using sign language, I pointed an imaginary gun to my head and made a chopping action towards the clowns head. He laughed again. Silly bugger thought I was referring to the clown......... Of course, my cover has now been blown. If anything happens to that clown or the owner, I am dead meat.

THE TUNNEL...............

For the record, the Palma to Soller tunnel is only 3.1km's long and takes about 3.1 minutes to pass through at a staggering cost of 6 pints of San Miquel (sorry that's € 4). ). Last Spring, I was so freaked out by it that I thought it was a garzillion miles long and took me several light years to drive through. It's amazing how sheer panic can cloud your judgment. I guess I would make a lousy police witness.

SPANISH DRIVERS

I realised something today, after almost 11 months of being a pedestrian, Megan and Amanda are right...........I am actually a far worse driver than even I thought. The only plus.........in Spain, I fit in perfectly. Here, there are no rules. I would love to see what would constitute a motor vehicle offence in Spain, perhaps showing "Due Care and Attention". Everyone speeds, runs red lights, cuts others off, disregards stop signs, terrorizes pedestrians on zebra crossings, drives up on the pavement, parks their car ANYWHERE and thinks nothing of nudging the car in front and behind, when they parallel park. The use of the horn is mandatory and gesturing with both hands (forget about holding the steering wheel) is compulsory. I must admit, I kinda like it. Today, the lady behind me bumped my car because I didn't turn right on a red light fast enough. I turned around, she smiled and waved, I extended my middle finger and yelled "YOU'RE THE ONE BABY" with a Spanish accent.

LLUC

After negotiating the dreaded tunnel, I headed for Soller and then made a bee-line for LLuc (regrettably pronounced "Yuc" because of those pesky double LL's). It was another place that I had missed last time I was here. The signs seemed to indicate that there was a church or monastery there. I pulled into the crowded parking lot and made my way to the main building. As it so happens, it is the Sanctuary of the Virgin of LLuc. I went inside and asked if the "Virgin" was home. "No" replied the young lady behind the counter, "She's on a gambling junket in Vegas with Sir Richard Branson". "Great...I thought..........I bet they both win". According to the literature available in the gift shop, The "Virgin" is only 61 cm's in height. Now, for those of you who are a little sketchy when it comes to metric conversion, that is about 2 1/2 feet tall. In England, we would call anything 2 1/2 feet tall, a "Garden Gnome". I walked into the Basillica and was very impressed. She is actually the Patron Saint of Mallorca. I observed a young couple chewing gum and necking (actually, I think they were exchanging gum and saliva). In a holy place, I thought........bloody tourists. The stern looking Nun had the same idea and walked directly towards them. If looks could kill.......this woman could be a mafia hitman. I wilted in her presence. I am still terrified of them (I went to an Irish Convent School in England when I was little) and even today, penguins, men in tuxedos or even Maitre D's give me the willy's.

Talking about Willy's, did you read about the Bluenose Whale that swam right up the Thames, under London Bridge and finally died. They thought it was a "HE". During the autopsy, they realised "HE" was a "SHE" and they nicknamed her "WILLY-LESS".

Anyway, back to the Virgin. In the Sanctuary, they had a bar. Now, isn't that a little odd ? I ordered a pint of "Holy Water" and got a bottle of San Miquel. He's my new patron saint (at least while I am in Spain). Sorry John Smith................

The road to Pollenca was fabulous. The scenery was so stunning. There were sheep with bells everywhere. They were so cute. Some ambled across the road, some were laying down on the road (I hope they weren't dead) and some thought they were bullfighters. I looked at them and felt so guilty, in my younger days, for eating lamb chops. I hope and pray that there are tons of three legged sheep running around because if not, I am surely going to HELL.

In all fairness, Pollenca, Port De Pollenca, Alcudia and Port De Alcudia are nothing special. I think whoever designed these towns, missed the plot. Still, on the plus side, in order to truly enjoy the Valldemosa's, the Deia's and the Fornalutx's of the world, we need a sprinkling of Pollenca's.

Formentor and the Cap De Formentor was another kettle of fish. I believe it is a National Park and it is spectacular, even on a cloudy day. The 18 km trip is breathtaking with sheer drops on either side. I was absolutely dying to take a pee so I must confess the trip to the Cap was a little frantic. When I got to the restaurant, the public washrooms were closed. It was SO windy. I thought about peeing in the bushes but I was afraid if I did, it would shoot straight up into the air and cover me from head to toe. Besides, this is MY Mallorca and I don't want anyone defacing it....even me. I noticed that some-one had kicked in one of the four small panels in the right hand corner of the door to the Gent's. I know I should have used my better judgment but I was desperate. I decided to go for it and immediately regretted my decision. Halway through, I became somewhat wedged in the door. My bladder kept telling me to hurry up, my body kept saying no and resisting. I finally negotiated the opening and paid my respects to the "Goddess Urinal" for what seemed an eternity. Getting out, proved just as tricky. I thought to myself, what happens if an employee comes along or better yet a Park Warden or a Police Officer ? There I am crawling out of the Gent's. They might think I had kicked in the door. Now I have only crawled out of a bathroom window once (it's a long story) and I have only crawled into a bathroom once, about 6 hours after the Polar Bear Swim, so I was not in totally unfamiliar territory but I did have visions of being hauled in front of a Spanish speaking judge trying to defend my actions.

The trip home was uneventful. I managed to bypass Inca which is a good thing. Like the aforementioned towns, Inca sounds nice but that's about it.

THE RAIN IN SPAIN IS ACTUALLY ICE.............

A couple of nights ago, some-one let off an enormous firecracker underneath my patio. This was not your average firecracker. This one said "DESTINED FOR EE-RACK........MADE IN WALES" on the side of it. I was half asleep, thought I had been shot and fell out of bed. These Spaniards will do anything for a laugh. As it turned out, they were celebrating the Festes De San Sabastia (which is Spanish for just another good excuse to get drunk and terrorize the tourists).

Last night, I was again dozing on my bed when something hit my glass patio door. Again, I thought I had been shot and fell out of bed. I opened the curtains and observed what appeared to be a drunken chef, from the seafood restaurant across the street, lobbing enormous ice snowballs at anything and everything. In fact, he had also hit a passing car and was either being berated or applauded by the passenger (the body actions always look the same). I stepped out onto the patio, called out "Hey Pedro".............and may have made some reference to Jim from Hereford, a donkey and his mother. He seemed to take exception to me calling him "Pedro" and lobbed another cruise missile in my direction. I beat a hasty retreat and ducked inside to survey my options. I could have thrown Chocolate Muesli at him but that would have been a waste. I thought about throwing Chinese Noodles but that seemed impractical and perhaps a little racist, I had a jar of Salsa but that seemed a little too extreme. In the end, I decided to retreat again and regroup.

Today...............I met my Afghani neighbour (he seems like a nice chap, keeps talking about BUSH........I think he must be a landscaper) and he offered me his brand new rocket launcher. I also went to the supermarket and acquired a DOZEN EGGS.............................The Empire may strike back...................

AND FINALLY...................

I hear Stephen Harper and the Conservatives has been elected in Canada. Wow, how soon we forget. Mind you, I hear the ballot cards had four options, three were stooges and one was a separatist. I know there is joke in there somewhere, I just haven't found it yet. There has been talk in the U.K papers about a plot to kidnap Tony Blair and George Bush...............now that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. It reminds me of the hold-up scene at the bookies in the movie "Snatch".

In closing, keep those e-mails coming otherwise you might find yourself on the dreaded "B List". Who is currently on the "B List" ? At the moment, only Revenue Canada. It basically involves correspondence every OTHER leap year or the filing of an annual tax return or both !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

January 29th, 2006

Well before I begin, I thought it would be a good idea to throw in a few disclaimers. After all, if my ramblings ever do become a book, I would hate to offend anyone with my comments......even garden gnomes. So here goes.........

1. ZEE GERMANS

First of all, any country that devotes one month a year to holding a nationwide "DrunkFest" is fine with me. I am still not sure about the lederhosen or the bratwurst but I am prepared to overlook these tiny indiscetions for the time being. Besides, both my adorable daughters are 1/2 German, two of my three lovely nieces are 1/2 German and my two handsome nephews are also 1/2 German. On top of that, a number of my dearest friends are also German. I still don't like rude, overweight German tourists or overzealous gay cyclists but that's another matter. 

2. VIRGINS

Although I don't think I know any, I am sure they are just as nice as everyone else. I like Richard Branson, I like Virgin Records and I would still rate St. John's in the U.S Virgin Islands as my #1 travel destination. I just wish I could live there................that's why I like Mallorca...........at least I can live and work there.

3. CLOWNS

I deeply and profusely apologise to any clowns who may be upset by my comments regarding "George The Clown", bearing a striking resemblance to George Bush. The clown is infinately more intelligent................

4. SEPARATISTS

Gilles Duceppe is not a separatist, he just wants his own country........isn't that the definition of a dictator ????????????????

5. SWITZERLAND

What's not to like about a small landlocked nation that isn't quite sure whether they want to be Italian, French or German ? The fact that it is full of boring, accountant-like people, who are obsessed with numbered bank accounts, watches, clocks and chocolate is totally irrelevant.

6. SEXIST REMARKS

I apologise for making sexist remarks about a girls legs. It was uncalled for, cruel and insensitive.

By the way, did I mention that she also had a lovely bottom ???????????

7. PEDRO

Again, it was insensitive of me to call a Spaniard "Pedro". From now on, if I ever encounter another drunken chef, hurling cruise missiles at my head, I shall affectionately call him "PEPE GONZALES".

8. SMART CARS

Referring to "Smart Cars" as sardine cans or cans of soup is wrong. I apologise to all soup and sardine lovers worldwide.

9. WELSH PEOPLE

Any reference to the Welsh as "Sheep Shaggers" was totally off the mark. Technically speaking, the term "Sheep Shaggers" refers to people who inhabit the highlands of Britain, north of Hadrians wall. I am 1/8th Scottish........yikes.

10. CHINA & THE CHINESE

My apologises to the most populated nation in the world for inferring that the "Chinese Adaptor" I purchased from BCAA was faulty. If it weren't for China, we would not have Wal-Mart and if it wasn't for Wal-Mart, we would still have tons of fabulous family owned businesses that focused not just on quality but also personalized service. For the record, only 99.9% of things I have purchased that are "Made In China" have failed to perform. The chopsticks still work a treat..............

Now.................back to business................

KUCHEN, KUCHEN & MORE KUCHEN

I have often worried about a nation which lists beer, cake and bratwurst as it's three main food groups. The other day, four German tourists took the expression "Let Then Eat Cake" to a whole new level.

I had just finished driving the western island loop from Palma to Valldemosa, through Bunyalbufar, to Andratx and back to Palma. For the most part, the road again hugged the coastline and the vista's were incredible. The roads are so narrow that even too pint-sized cars have trouble passing. Side view mirrors don't really exist in Mallorca. If you start out with them, you quickly loose them the first time you have to pass an oncoming car. Today, I even met an oncoming tour bus. There is a scene in "Snatch" where Vinny Jones talks about the "Bravest Balls". That pretty much sums up driving in Spain. I thought about Vinny as I stood my ground and the tour bus driver sweated bullets. I stopped at Cala Fornells (where I had gone swimming last Spring) but the hotel was closed until April. I was dying for a cuppa so I stopped at a cafe in Peguera. It was "Siesta Time" so I thought it would be nice to work on my tan and read another chapter from my "How To Be A Spanish Dummy" book (I think it's working).

It was a German cafe and the entire place, with the exception of me, was full of German tourists. The table next to me was occupied by two elderly German couples. They ordered coffee and kuchen. The waiter brought the most enormous Black Forest cake I have ever seen. Without a word of a lie, it was slightly smaller than Iceland. It had to be a good 12 inches in diameter by at least 8 inches high. The cake was divided into quarters. Honestly, the calorie in-take of one slice must have been more than the entire daily calorie in-take of all of Switzerland. The two couples gave out an audible gasp (they do that just for effect) and tucked in. I watched in utter amazement. These cake slices had a warning label on the side that said ................."Heart Attack Waiting To Happen". They complained the whole time but devoured every last morsel.  

I noticed there was an Oxfam representative hovering, probably believing that there would be enough left over to feed all of Africa but in the end, there was only a lonely cherry left on the plate. I have no idea what it must have cost but as I looked around, everyone was eating these monstrous pieces of cake. Imagine if they came to Canada and visited a Tim Horton's and ordered a "Tim-Bit". They would faint.......................

SHOOTING AT THE US/CANADA BORDER

Here's an exerpt from Yahoo News regarding the I-5 high speed chase, the pursuing gun toting American authorities and the two fleeing Californian murderers who tried to gate crash into Canada at the Blaine/Peace Arch crossing.

"An unspecified number of Canadian border agents, who are unarmed, left their posts during the incident because they were concerned about their safety".

Now....................is this a good advertisement for National Security ??????? I bet Osama Bin Laden would be thrilled to know this tiny tidbit of information.

ALL'S QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT.

Unfortunately, "Pepe Gonzales" was not working last night. I really had hoped to make a "Spanish Omelette" out of him but I guess it just wasn't meant to be...........maybe tonight ?

UNFORTUNATELY CORONATION STREET IS ALIVE AND KICKING IN MALLORCA........

I went to Poppy's Bar (please don't order the duck) last night to watch the Manchester United vs Blackburn Carling Cup Second Leg match on SKY Sports. The usual crowd were there, all ex-pats who either own bars or restaurants in the Can Pastillo area. As Chris remarked, it's like being back home in the village. I hope they don't view me as the "Village Idiot" ?. Anyway, just before the game started five loud-mouthed north-easterners came into the pub (they were either from Newcastle, Middlesborough or Sunderland). If you have ever watched Coronation Street and watched Les, you will know the type. The five of them had a combined IQ of less than the hole in the middle of a donut. They were absolutely objectionable. One of them kept belching, flatulating and making strange grunting noises. Her husband was just as bad. "Des" could hardly string a sentence together. He was talking about text messaging and at one point he said "I dunno, I try to text message me mates but I aint no good at spellin so they kanna understand what I tryin to say". I sat there wishing that he could text message........at least then, I wouldn't have to listen to his anal ramblings.........and you thought I was bad. He was knocking back pints faster than you could say "Pissed To The Gills".Funnily enough, he became more understandable the more he drank and the more I drank. Then it suddenly occurred to me.............he WAS the VILLAGE IDIOT. 

Anyway, it was a great advert for my fellow countrymen...........apparently, they are somewhat typical of the calibre of summer tourists Mallorca gets by the plane load......yikes.

RENTING A CAR IN MALLORCA

You would think that renting a car on an island that is already full of lunatic homicidal maniacs, would be difficult...............wrong. Each time I have rented a car, no-one has asked me for a deposit, a credit card, filled in a condition report, asked me to top up the gas tank (it's usually bone dry when you rent it) or discussed insurance. It's mad.................. In Canada, anytime I have tried to rent a car, it is like applying for a mortgage. I am not sure whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. Judging by the calibre of the drivers.........I would say the latter.

MOVING DAY

Well it's moving day and it's spitting with rain................I had to get away from George The Clown because he was seriously doing my head in. So.......I decided to go back to the Cactus Hotel which is about 5 km's further down the beach. I stayed there last year and although it is € 12 more a night, it includes buffet breakfast and buffet dinner. I packed everything into my little Ford KA (I am not sure why they call it a KA, perhaps it was named by the same people responsible for the innovative street names in the U.S............you know K Street, L Street, M Street), said goodbye to George and headed to my new digs. After dropping everything off, I decided to head out to Santanyi which is on the eastern side of the island. Mallorca is currently ripping up all their roads so between construction zones and roundabouts, it took me about an hour to get across to the other side of the island. I love getting off the beaten track, seeing things that the average tourist does not see and hopefully experiencing something a little more authentic. I was beetling along when suddenly, I saw a strange sight in front of me. It was a sub-compact car (and when I say sub-compact, I mean slightly larger than a Smart Car) with something very odd in the back seat. As I got closer, I realised there were THREE SHEEP sitting in the back seat (I swear I haven't been drinking) . Now, I know you must think I am delusional but I know they were sheep because afterall, I have holidayed in Wales before and I am at least 1/8 Scottish. How odd...........they seemed quite happy and the driver (a human......I think) seemed to be either singing along to the radio or having a right old conversation with his passengers. It suddenly occurred to me that all those sheep I passed on the road the other day were probably hitch-hiking and I never bothered to stop......... It would at least explain why some of them were standing on three legs !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, I mooched around Santanyi, Felanitx, Portcolom, had lunch in Portocristo and then decided to head back to Palma to try and buy a ticket to the Mallorca FC vs Barcelona game on Sunday. Last year, I decided to start supporting Mallorca (which is probably why they are currently in the toilet) and I thought it would be a nice treat. Unbelievably, I managed to find my way to the stadium and was encouraged to see people lining up at the ticket wickets. I was afraid it might be sold-out. I parked the soup can and got out. There was a notice board with chalk numbers on it. I seriously hoped they were not the prices. I thought perhaps they were the number of tickets left. I said to a chap "Habla Usted Ingles" and he said "A Little Bit". I asked him if the numbers were the prices of the tickets. He said "Si" (so much for a little bit of English). I just about fell over. The cheapest ticket (and this had you sitting in Valldemosa with a telescope) was $ 125 and the most expensive was $ 180. I think they throw in a holiday for two to Greece, the Seinfeld maid for a week, a new car and a garden gnome. Dejected............I left. I love soccer and I would dearly love to see Barcelona play Mallorca BUT I also love my first born (and my second born) far more...................ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

BUYING GROCERIES IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY

I love buying groceries when I travel. It's a fun way to learn the language and a change from the usual fair I find at home. Sometimes however, it is not all fun and games. Case in point.............last year I purchased an underarm deodorant that must have been made from recycled battery acid because it burnt me severely under the arms (thank God I didn't use it on my face at the hostel in London). Last week, I ran out of hair gel. Being money conscious, I decided to buy the no-name brand from Eroski Discount Supermarkets. What a mistake........... I don't know whether or not I am imagining it, but it does seem to smell vaguely of sardines. In fact the other day, I was sitting have a tea at Gilly's when I noticed small flies circling my head. Yesterday, I was cycling home and noticed a small posse of dogs and cats chasing me. On the plus side, I was wearing it when my five friends from the North-East came into Poppy's and the chap next to me moved....................maybe it should be called DEEP WOODS ON !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AND FINALLY..................

I just calculated that the cheapest ticket to the game would be the equivalent of 28 pints of San Miguel at Poppy's. Maybe if I watch the game on the telly at Poppy's and consume 28 pints of beer, I can convince myself that I ACTUALLY was at the game....................OLE.

January 31st, 2006

O.K SOUP CANS..................sorry I mean SPORTS FANS, I am off to the Canaries tomorrow for a week. I need some sunshine so this will be my final transmission until I get back with all the juicy details. I need to work on my tan lines, do some snorkeling, feed the fish (like I did in Maui and almost got my thingy............bitten off) and feed my soul. I spent the day burning up the internet, finalising more travel plans and spending CASH like only JOHNNY can...................

I have decided to realise one of my biggest dreams and visit Casablanca for 8 days in March. If Bogey loved it, I am sure I will too. Besides, I can at least say I have "Been To Africa" and been "Out Of Africa". Amanda and I are also doing a mad three day trip to Sardinia (I am going to protest the living conditions of sardines and maybe even get arrested) and I also decided to see more of the Balearic Islands and booked a week in Ibiza when I get back from "BIRD ISLAND".

Hey, look on the bright side, some-one has to log all these miles so that I can titilate your funny bones. Besides, we're all in this together, right ?

So here we go again........................

Well all of my Vancouver friends will be pleased to know that it has been raining here the last two days. I know it's not a record but I hate rain and while it is true that the "Rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain", apparently it also falls everywhere else as well. Still, it could be worse.........no-one is talking about building an ark just yet so that's a plus. It has been one of the nicest January's in recent years so I really have nothing to complain about.............

What's new.......................

THE CACTUS HOTEL

Well I feel like Jack Nicholson in "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest". I have been institutionalized of my own free will. This place is a lunatic asylum. I thought George The Clown was bad, the inmates at the Cactus take boredom to a whole new level. 

I suppose I should have read my own updates from last year because if I had, I would never have chosen The Cactus. Oh how time seems to cloud ones judgment. About the only thing I like about the hotel is the name although to be honest, I think it more aptly applies to the clientele and some of the staff.............very prickly. I have just finished reading Bill Bryson's book about his travels in Europe and he and I seem to have similar luck when it comes to accommodation. Of course, this is one of the downsides of being a budget traveller. Expect the worst and it can only get better.......or in this case, even worse. I could do with a shot of morphine right about now.............

How can I put this without offending the entire German nation ? If I wanted to visit Germany, I would get on a plane, a train, a camel, a bike, rent a car or walk there. I honestly fail to understand why German tourists insist on turning everything foreign into a mini Germany (Hitler tried it and failed) but I guess it must be in the blood. One of the reasons I came to Mallorca was to learn Spanish, it's a little hard when you are surrounded by zee Germans.

The room is very basic, which really doesn't bother me. I don't need all the bells and whistles, I just need a place to lay my head, a shower, a bath and a toilet. Anything else is a bonus. I find it odd that the price of the room includes a buffet breakfast and buffet dinner but you have to pay € 2.50 a day if you want to watch the television. Don't they have this ass backwards ? Maybe they should charge extra for using the bed ? As a teaser, they let you view a channel for about 30 seconds. Thankfully, I didn't fall for this one because most of the channels are in......................you guessed it.................German.

The bathroom is curious. Yet again, there is a water fountain, that looks suspiciously like a toilet without a seat, next to the toilet. I think it was invented by Gerard Depard...bidu..............anyway, I decided to stick to bottled water.

This morning, I stumbled into the shower and nearly killed myself. I don't know about you but I have a shower in the morning to wake myself up. The fact that I also get a free wash is a bonus. I am half asleep, relatively grumpy and in serious need of revival. For some 34 years (we didn't have one in England), I have gone through this process and it has worked a charm. Today was different. I turned on the shower, stepped in and found myself cart wheeling, at full tilt, towards the ceramic tiles, the shower head and the facets. Why.............. you ask ? Because some silly bugger decided to invent a bathtub where the bottom is at a 45 degree slant. Have you ever stepped into a bathtub, expecting it to be level and suddenly found yourself on a slippery surface at a 45 degree angle ? Well, if you haven't you should try it, it beats any roller coaster ride that I have ever been on. To top it off, you get to flay your arms and legs completely naked. I'm sorry, but it ain't a pretty sight. I don't care whether you are Jessica Simpson or Willie Nelson, God did not intend us to act like this naked.......at least in the shower. Taking a bath in this "Devil Tub" would be near impossible..................only 1/4 of your body could ever be covered, at any one time, in water no matter how double jointed or creative you are.

After my near death experience, I wandered around the bathroom looking for some type of warning label. You know the one that says "CAREFUL... YOUR NEXT SHOWER COULD BE YOUR LAST" or "BEEN SKIING LATELY ?". Honestly, If I wanted to resemble a half-crazed naked skier hurtling down a ski slope, I would go to Whistler. There weren't any warning signs, just a curious sign that said "Water Is A Scarce Commodity". Has anyone looked out the window ? The bloody place is surrounded by one million garbillion, garzillion, gartrillion gallons of water. Hello..........that's why it is called an island !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! On top of that, there are two huge lakes on the island. Can everyone say after me............DESALINATION.

Dinner last night was a hoot. Forget about a Porsche going from zero to 60 in 2.5 seconds. I went from being a young (ish), adventurer, explorer, unemployed (sorry between jobs), layabout to a geriatric German in 1.5 seconds. I didn't know they made people so old. It looked like a convention of really, really old things. The average age must have been 140. Some were even covered in cobwebs. I think the hotel wheel them out just to give the illusion that the place is full. I became instantly worried when the topic of conversation turned to the sinking of the Titanic, Kaiser Wilhelm and the First World War. I decided immediately to abandon my plans to form a  "Conga" line and instead burst into my own rendition of George The Clowns' hit single. I changed a few words and I am afraid it wasn't well received. "Well he comes from Alabama with an AK45 machine gun on his knee" didn't get any laughs, no encores, no standing ovations, just the threat if a bratwurst shoved up............well you know where I'm going with this one. Fortunately, they believed me when I said I was a vegetarian. Mind you, after riding a mountain bike for several days, they probably thought I had already suffered such an indignation. After dinner, I tried to arrange a quick game of "Russian Roulette", you know just to cull the hotel populace, but they didn't bite...........most of them didn't have any teeth anyway. Damn..................too much fun......I guess. The elevator is so old, on the way back to the third floor, I had to stop twice to shave. I guess they don't want any of their geriatric guests to have heart failure on the way up or down.  Man, if I could only juice that puppy up....................imagine the fun I could have. I'd even hold the door...........

THE BRIGHTER SIDE....................

I again rented a car and headed out to explore more of the island. I love Sunday mornings, they are so peaceful and when you realise that you don't have to work the next day, they are even better. I had a fabulous time mooching around Valldemosa and Deia, did the coastal road, backwards.......and just relaxed. The sun came out around noon and it was so relaxing driving through the mountains, with the birds singing and the sun shining on my face. Mallorca, is blessed with the most incredible fauna, in fact any type of vegetation you could imagine on this earth can be found on the island. I did have one frantic moment. I lost the rental car in Valldemossa. Now when I say lost, I don't mean LOST, I mean temporarily misplaced. Free parking is so hard to find that you spend a considerable amount of time driving up and down the streets. Well as I was eating lunch, I suddenly realised that I didn't have a clue where the car was. Not even the remotest idea. It happened once in Can Pastilla as well. Is this a sign of things to come ? The problem is.........every car rental agency rents out gray Ford KA's. I am sure I looked like a car thief..............although having locked my keys in my car on several occasions, over the years, I don't think I truly qualify for this line of work. I couldn't break into a sardine can.

DISCO IS ALIVE AND ALMOST KICKING.................

It was German Disco night at the hotel last night, complete with mirror ball and the Bee Gees. I don't need to tell you how much fun that was.......John Travlota would turn over in his grave................he's dead...........right ?????? If he isn't, he would be if he stayed in ZEE NUT HOUSE.

Tonight, I think they are trying to organize a stimulating game of TWISTER...

This morning, I went downstairs for breakfast. I have formulated a plan, get down early for breakfast before all the old dears are wheeled in and at night, drink several pints of John Smith's Extra Smooth as a relaxant (yes..........we have found each other) and head to the restaurant just before it closes. There are about 50 tables in the restaurant, this morning, only 8 were occupied. I sat down and had breakfast and about halfway through, the head waiter came over and told me I was sitting in the wrong seat !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I burst out laughing.......... are these guys uptight or what ?

Last night, there was a table of six young German's sitting a couple of tables away. That brought the average age in the hotel down to 139. Things are looking up..........

GEORGE THE CLOWN.

When I went to rent the car, I noticed something odd. The car rental office is two doors down from George The Clown. I really wanted George to launch into song so that I could quietly berate the miserable little git. I waited and waited but he didn't make a sound. Finally, I went over to him and noticed that he was unplugged. Now how cruel is that ? I put up with him for two weeks and the moment I move down the beach, some-one unplugs him.

You see................ sometimes life just ain't fair. 

AND FINALLY...............

My good friend Estela is getting married to Wes on Saturday, February 4th. I just want to wish them a lifetime of happiness, full of smiles, chuckles and tons and tons of fun. OLE...................

February 3rd, 2006

Buenas Dias From The Canary Islands..................

Well, I really don't know where to start so I may as well start in the middle. 

Yesterday was just one of those travel days I will never, ever forget. I got up early, finished packing and ordered a taxi. In Spain, the taxi drivers have two meters, one that clocks the actual mileage and/or time and the other, that tacks on a ridiculous surcharge which to date, no driver has ever been able to explain. Since I needed to get out of the "Insane Asylum" fast, I didn't care. I missed breakfast (which was a very good thing) and decided to grab a bite to eat at the airport. I again should have checked my travel updates, from last year, because if I had, I am sure I would have commented on the prices. Food is dirt cheap in Mallorca, in fact, it is so cheap, I can actually afford to eat everywhere BUT the airport. The prices were insane. They wanted $ 2.25 for a donut !!!!!!!!! I told the guy if I was going to pay $ 2.25 for a donut, I wanted the hole in the middle as well.  He declined.............. In the end, I settled for an English newspaper (I have to support the Page 3 Girl...................she's a starving artist too), the cheapest chocolate bar I could find (which was a smartie................no.........not the whole box, A SINGLE SMARTIE) and a cup of tea.

I checked in and was informed that although I had booked with Air Berlin, I would be flying to The Canaries on HAPAGFLY. I asked what "HapagFly" meant in German and she said "HAPAGFLY". Great, another comedian. The flight left on time, the plane was spotless and the crew seemed efficient. I must congratulate German Airlines.................they really are better than most other airlines I have flown on. I just wish, their inflight magazine was in English as well because there seemed to be a great article on Las Palmas and The Canaries. One other small criticism.......................all the announcements were in German with a very brief "Abridged" English version. No Spanish was spoken at all. I found it really odd that a flight that originates in a Spanish speaking territory and is flying to a Spanish speaking territory, would not speak any Spanish. Are we that nationalistic when it comes to choosing airlines. I would fly AIRHEAD if it was cheap and reliable. I could not help wondering what a poor lonely Spaniard would think or do if the plane was going down...............

Here's how it might sound..................... 

GERMAN ANNOUNCEMENT: 

"Jah, guten morgen, dist ist your captain speaking, zee von who flys zee plane. Unt afraid zee plane ist going to crash into zee sea. Zee life vests ist unter das seet. Inflate zee life vest, jump otta zee plane and gutten lucken".

ENGLISH ANNOUNCEMENT: "Oh Shit, can everyone swim ?".

SPANISH ANNOUNCEMENT: Adios Amigo.  

Breakfast was questionable. The omelet was fine, the canned mushrooms had been boiled beyond belief, forget about the molecular structure, these babies had passed the point of no return and clearly wanted to become mushy peas. The two frankfurters were...............how can I say it..................small. If ever there was a candidate for a "Penal Implant" it would be these sorry frankfurters. I felt so sorry for them. I thought about abducting them but then I realised I might have trouble declaring three frankfurters at customs. Anyway, the fruit salad was delightful, the tea was hot and the bread roll made a terrific headrest.

I had thought that we would be heading over Gibraltar and then out to sea but our pilot, Captain "Nine, das ist not a joystick, das ist mine bratwurst" had other ideas and I will be forever indebted to him for the rest of my life. As we flew over Gibraltar, he decided to head right down the coastline of Morocco. I was in "Seventh, Eighth & Ninth Heaven". I had rented yet another set of airline headphones (that makes about 3,678 pairs that I now own................... 3,677 are still sitting at home) and was watching "Monster-In-Law" with Jennifer Lopez and Jane Fonda. Apologises to Jennifer, who really does have a lovely bottom, but she was a very distant second. There in front and below me was AFRICA. The "Dark Continent".............isn't that what they call the Arctic in Winter ? Even though there were scattered clouds, I could see forever. The snow-capped Atlas Mountains and the Sahara Desert beyond. The northern part of Morocco is quite fertile but as we progressed south, the land became more arid. The Atlas mountains form the backbone of Morocco and serve as an informal border beween Morocco and Algeria. As we headed south, the landscape seemed to be covered with what looked like "Bathroom Tiles". Not the kind that I almost kissed during my near-death experience in the shower but smaller............. How odd ? I asked the flight attendant what they were and she said "Zay look like bathroom tiles". Great................... At the tip of Morocco, the Atlas Mountains sweep around and almost meet the sea. Beyond Morocco, I could see Western Sahara (which is still experiencing a civil war) and where the Sahara meets the Altantic Ocean. My face was pressed up so close to the window that I think I got frostbite. I had goosebumps, on top of goosebumps, on top of goosebumps (which can be a very serious medical condition). Even my little frankfurters perked up........

As we left the coast, I could see for miles along the coastline. I had to pinch myself, this was AFRICA below me. It is a continent that has always fascinated me and scared me in equal measures. A continent so diverse, that it is actually listed in Webster's Dictionary under "Diverse". A continent of so much suffering and yet so much potential. Hey............if you want to stage a coup, this is the place to come (unless you are Mark Thatcher). Some countries change leaders more than some London hostel guests change their underwear.  

GRAN CANARIA 

I was a little worried because there was only one place in the airport that handled accommodation and it was run by El Cortes Ingles which is the major department store in Spain. However, I was sure that with every room rental, they would throw in something extra..................maybe a nice 3" plasma T.V, a new pair of socks or a miniature frankfurter. The chap was very nice, even when I said "Hola.......I want something cheap". He smiled and tapped away on his computer keyboard. Finally he announced that for a stunning € 34 a night, he could get me a studio apartment in Playa Del Ingles (is this a conflict of interest ?) but only for thee nights. Since I had no options................I agreed.

The airport is stuck right in the middle of the coastline between Las Palmas, on the northern tip of the island and Playa Del Ingles on the southern tip. Anyway you look at it, you are faced with a € 40 cab ride. He informed me that I could take a bus to Playa and then find a cab to take me to the apartment. I decided to have some lunch and make my way slowly, Spanish Island style, to Playa. I found the bus stop and waited. In due time, the No 66 bus arrived and I joined the line-up. In Spain, they don't technically have line-ups, it's really a free for all, minus the jello pudding. I managed to cram my bag into the cargo hold and stepped on board.

THE BUS DRIVER...................

What can I say ????????????????????

This guy was seriously pissed off about something or maybe everything. He had so many CHIPS on his shoulder, I nicknamed him AHOY. He was screaming, in Spanish, at people, yelling "Ariba, Ariba" and showed utter contempt for everyone on board. He drove like only HIS life depended on it. If he was the tour operator at THE CACTUS HOTEL, he would cull the entire hotel population in 1.25 seconds. I think he was the stunt driver for the Sandra Bullock movie "SPEED" about that bus that was hopelessly out of control. I have never been so scared for my life. I instantly bonded with my fellow passengers as we all witnessed each others "New And Improved" last will and testaments. The moment we got into Playa Del Ingles, I got off. I didn't care if I had to pay a garzillion euros to get to my apartment, I wanted off.......big time. I couldn't get the cargo door open and when I asked AHOY, he virtually spat at me and said in Spanish "You weak, pathetic, miserable English Hooligan". I said............................"Thanks Pepe", we exchanged hugs and I went on my merry way. I shall never forget the look on the poor passengers' faces, pressed up against the glass as I tore up my will.

On the bright side...........Pepe won't be driving the bus from Lima to Ayacucho in Peru, which is a very good thing because I hear it's a twelve hour bus ride.

THE APARTMENTOS CARMEN

I love this place......................it is the absolute best. I just wish I could stay longer. Anyway, by the weekend, I will be homeless again and although I have tried, no amount of begging is going to get me a reprieve. Everything about the place gives me that warm and fuzzy feeling. It's not palatial, by any means, but it feels like home and that is a nice feeling when you are 1/2 way around the world.

By the time I had arrived at the apartment, my head was banging and I was looking grim. I think it was a combination of too much John Smiths, too little sleep, lugging bags, here, there and everywhere and the bus ride from Hell. Anyway, a quick trip to the Farmacia, a dozen or so Panadols later and I was doing the cha-cha on the patio. I had the best nights sleep last night. I wonder why ????????

TOPLESS BEACHES.....BOTTOMLESS DRINKS AND SOME DENTAL FLOSS

I decided to rent a car and drive around the island today. A little adventuresome perhaps but what the heck. They offered me a three day rental so that is my deadline...........to see the entire island in three days and then spend the next four soaking up the sun. Yesterday was cloudy but today I awoke to brilliant cloudless blue skies, 25 degrees and the sun beating on my face.  

I decided to go the reverse way around the island because from the map, it looked more interesting. The eastern side of the island is all freeway from Las Palmas to Playa Del Ingles whereas the western side appeared to have a secondary road that hugged the coastline. 

I left around 8.30am and headed for Puerto Rico, Puerto De Mogan, which was a lovely fishing village, Mogan, El Hornillo (remember the two "ll"s are pronounced as a "Y"..........now you've got it !!!!), San Nicolas De Tolentino, Agaete, Galder, Las Palmas, Vecindario, San Agustin and then back to the apartment by 4pm for a dip in the pool. I was amazed by the landcape and the flora & fauna. It's quite barren. It's a cross between a lunar landscape, Arizona, Northern California and driving the back road from Hana in Maui. The coastal road, on the western side, was breathtaking. So many twists and turns. At some points, the road was hundreds of feet above the sea. If I stopped to think about it too much, it freaked me out. I can't imagine how they built these roads but compared to Mallorca, they are far superior. I really wonder who built them. It can't have been Spanish workers because if you factor in siesta time, they would have to have started them before Christ was born. Anyway, they are truly an engineering feat. The towns really aren't very Spanish, compared to Mallorca, the houses resemble little white and yellow shoe boxes perched on top of each other. Prince Charles would not be impressed by the architectural design but when you get closer, they look nicer. I was curious about one thing, there are huge areas of land that appear to be covered in plastic sheeting. I asked the guy at the gas station what they were and he said they were tomato plantations. I think they are secret Moroccan grow ops...........but I could be way off base.

OTHER CURIOUS SIGHTS

At the restaurant in Puerto De Mogan, they had "Canarian Potatos with Mojo Sauce" on the menu..............I didn't ask. I was going to ask the POWERS to be but decided that this was one menu item, I didn't want to know much about. 

Next to the Chinese/Indian Restaurant, in the Yumba Shopping Centre in Playa Del Ingles, they have a gay sex shop. Now don't get me wrong, I am not being critical but off all the shops that I would want next to my restaurant, this would register very low on the Richter