ALISON'S DIARY

Jul 22 2007 Alison Craig

WE DECIDE NOT TO DRIVE AND TAKE A TAXI INSTEAD - SHAME THE DRIVER IS EITHER HALF-CUT OR BLIND AS A BAT

MONDAY

Pack up and we're off to Palma. A taxi is the easiest way as we are staying in the centre. Last time we tried to drive it almost caused a divorce as, too hot, tired and grumpy, we drove the incredibly narrow roads. I kept shouting to a fraught, hot David: "Take a right - take a right" as he looked at me blankly and calmly turned left.

Hot brain and no sense of direction not good for marital longevity so we take the mature decision to get a grown-up to drive up this time. Well that was the plan. The grinning, happy taxi driver who turns up looks in his 60s and calm - until he gets behind the wheel. Within two minutes of the journey starting, he starts to dig about in the depths of his trouser pocket - a worry when at speed on a Majorcan motorway. Eventually he digs out a tin of mints which he then spends about 45 seconds trying to open.

A slight flailing from right to left of the road begins at this point as he turns to offer them round. We all shout: "NO THANKS!" hoping it would make him want to look at the road again. He does though it doesn't seem to make a great deal of difference as he is veering to the right and left. "Blind as a bat or half cut", I say to David who is in the front, eyes bulging. "Yup", he agrees. "It's only 5km to go, do your usual," comes the instruction. So I do my usual which is pretend to be ill and beg the driver to slow down. At least this means the impact wouldn't necessarily be fatal. We get there. It would be better if Louis drove - and he's only 12.

TUESDAY

Blatant grooming is the thing here. If someone has a spot to squeeze or a blackhead to pop out, just stop right where you are, by the pool, in the cafe or on a bench in the park and get to it. It is like a national pastime which causes great amusement. David starts eyeing my neck up and I tell him to back off - what is it? I think it's a mole but maybe not he says with glee. "Back off soldier," I command. The heat is definitely getting to him.

WEDNESDAY

Today we get the ferry to Barcelona. The ferry goes about 40kph and everyone has to stay inside in case you fall off. How relaxing. We get our tickets and there is no one anywhere to tell us where to go or what to do. We just shuffle around between three people who are going to Barcelona as I read their luggage labels. The Spanish ladies we are now trailing have three collies - lassie-style big ones who are eyeing us suspiciously. Last thing I need right now is rabies. We get on board and it is surprisingly quiet. I settle to crack on with the Jilly Cooper I am still reading. I used to read about six books a week on holiday - now I wade through one so slowly I wonder if my brain is shrinking.

After a few hours we arrive and I am now great friends of the collies having fed them my stale baguette to prevent them from eating me.

THURSDAY

What a beautiful city but it is so busy! The harbour where we are staying is jumping with folk. We realise the Tall Ships race is in town which is why it's 100 times busier than usual.

We gaze at the beautiful ships and laugh as we toddle back to our hotel and gaze at the queue to get on board the Ecuadorian ship outside our hotel room. It is about 300 people long. There is a band live on deck and great salsa music booming out round the dock. They know how to party. Ecuador for our next holiday, we agree.

FRIDAY

Woken up by the boom boom boom of the Ecuadorian boat band - they are off again. We look out to see a queue of about 150 people still waiting to get on or have they just got off? As we stand there incredulous at the party stamina they let off a cannon, then another, then a cacophony of booms goes right through the hotel. The band plays, everyone waves flags and screams in delight.

Thank God I wasn't drinking last night - what a racket. The boat moored next door to them is Russian. The sailors all stand in clean, beautifully pressed uniforms, their jaws hanging open and eyes confused at the wild maniacs who are pulling out of the harbour. What a hoot.

SATURDAY

I find a dressing gown in the wardrobe of the hotel as Dave showers. "Great," he says. "Chuck one in to me." It is a shorty and just covers his bum. He is also wearing prescription sunglasses as he has lost his normal specs.

"You look like a cocaine dealer from the 70s", I screech with laughter. Louis is on the phone to his grandparents later that day and is overheard saying: "Yes. Dad looks like a cocaine dealer from the 70s." I snatch the phone and put them straight in case they think he's started a new life of crime.

ALISON CRAIG

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SETTLE DOWN WITH A JILLY COOPER. I USED TO READ SIX BOOKS A WEEK ON HOLIDAY. NOW, I WADE THROUGH JUST ONE SO SLOWLY, MY POOR BRAIN MUST BE SHRINKING

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