Still haven't quite acclimatised to being on holiday, neither chilled out nor rested up and not quite in the right time zone either. Which explains why I slept away a lot of the afternoon, in deep sleep having dreams in which I had vivid conversations with people I know (and sometimes only vaguely), such as Frankie Boyle explaining to me why he had bought a private plane and learned to fly it (unlikely in reality as he is scared of flying).
It was cloudy today, but I knew it was still important to put on sun cream, but as always I still got burned in the little spots where the cream hadn't been efficiently applied, like inside my belly button.
We spent the middle of the day on the beach and I finally got round to reading Emma Kennedy's rubbish book "The Tent, The Bucket and Me" which only made me laugh out loud about forty or fifty times - how rubbish can you get? If the book involved any other family than Emma's I would assume that her ridiculous stories about calamitous camping trips in the 1970s was entirely fabricated. But she, her mum and her dad are all nuts and I am sure that it all really happened, exactly as she tells it, even if there are an inordinate amount of stories about Emma falling into toilets or otherwise getting coated in piss and shit or occasionally vomit. If you listened to AIOTM then you will know how many tales she has of a scatological bent and her childhood experiences probably explain her fascination.
All right, I admit it, it's a great book, especially if you went camping in the 1970s and although I never fell in a toilet as far as I remember, Emma and my childhood's do seem very similar. It's an amazing social document. And fun to read on holiday, providing nothing terrible is happening to you.
The worst thing that happened to us today was when a French family attempted to steal our sun loungers (and towels) whilst we were having lunch. I could see the whole thing happening from the beach restaurant, but to begin with only the two young girls of the family were sprawling all over towel covered loungers and I assumed that when their parents arrived they would be chided and shooshed away. Because surely everyone recognises the system where a towel covered lounger is taken. We certainly did as we had ended up with pretty much the worst loungers on the beach as we'd only come down at about 11.30.
But not only did the parents not recognise that system they also chose the worst loungers on the beach, because there were plenty of other ones which were devoid of people, but still covered in towels. They started unpacking their stuff and I had to head over to explain that the loungers were taken. And luckily they accepted the situation and an unpleasant situation was avoided.
After my sleep we headed for cocktails, then a curry. All the restaurants here are buffet system which is dangerous for me as I always feel I have to get my money's worth, much like Emma Kennedy's dad, but from tomorrow I am going to try and forego lunch, which may help me not get any fatter and which is also conveniently enough the only meal not already paid for in half-board plan. I reckon I can eat a big enough breakfast to get me through to dinner.
I fell asleep when I was meant to be checking out the gym here, but I did manage a ten minute swim in the Indian Ocean, so will probably have lost a couple of kilos today. Can't wait to get back to London and my gym to find out by weighing, whilst being watched by intrusive old West London men.
Not a bad start to the decade anyway.
