A quiet night in Majorca – NOT

This about sums it up

It was always going to be a big night. A friends from the south of Englands 50th birthday dinner in Majorca. Coincidentally David and I are over for a weeks sunshine so we are included in the numbers for dinner. There were 10 of us. They had been at it since Friday so we mistakenly believed this might mean it was not quite such a carry on. Aye right.

We pitched up at 7.30 sharp for a few drinks. As we stood swigging a glass of cava suddenly one of their party arrived pushing is wife in a wheelchair. It seems she broke her toe the day before during a rather alcoholic boat trip. So one casualty before we started.

And how we started. One your marks, get set, go!

During the first ten minutes talking to a guy called Gerry who I have never met before he said Where do you live? Edinburgh I said .Oh do you know a girl called ***** *****? yes I said she is one of my best pals. Holy shit he said she dyed my pubes blonde in the 80’s for a joke. So we got her on the phone instantly.

That about set the tone for the night.

After an hour and a half drinking we sloped off into the dining room for dinner. A long dining room was laid out and the waiter marched us all along to the very end, where they had segregated a table for 10 behind a huge bush. It seems this was their third night in the dining room and the other guests clearly wanted them as far away from them as possible. Guffaw.

Wine, delicious food, wine, white and red. Cut to the end of dinner. No-one else in the dining room all of us in high spirits. We moved to the bar downstairs, we needed another drink like a hole in the head, of course. As we entered the bar I spotted a piano player so marched up and asked him if he would play Happy Birthday. Oh course he said then I have to go.

Don’t go don’t go! I shouted do you play boogie woogie?

I am a Hungarian Concert Pianist he declared.

Yes but do you play boogie woogie?

Yes I do said the confused looking Hungarian

OK I said jamming my fat bum down on the piano stool beside him you play the bottom part and I’ll play the top and off we went. And we did.

Much squealing and carrying on and then slumping in a selection of couches outside and it seemed like the perfect time to have a large gin.

A large gin in this part of the world is about a quarter bottle so off we went. On your marks, get set, go!

We then took it in turns to have a shot in the wheelchair whilst roaring with laughter at some very bad jokes.

At one point a Russian man turned up and told us to be quiet.

Apparently I stood up at this point and said with a very bad South American accent that I had come all the way from Paraguay to celebrate my friend Ed’s birthday and I wasn’t going to bed until I was good and ready before pointing at everyone else in the company and making up a fictitious location from when they had all come. Poor guy apologised to us and went back to bed, to lie awake and hate us from a distance.

My new role models

He wasn’t the only one to hate us, I hated myself this morning, waking up with my mouth like the bottom of a budgies cage, a face like a well slapped arse and an imprint of my book on my cheek which 12 hours later is still there. Class bird me.

I can’t tell you how fantastic it was to wake up this morning and find the sky here was cloudy. Now that’s a sign. If I can bare to look at the photos of last night I will post one or two tomorrow.

AlisonsDiary

Writer & broadcaster.

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