OK Sam, before you start, it’s July and I’m late and it’s very, very long. I’ve been in Ibiza the land where time stands still, and just because you spend your life tripping the International Date Line, does that mean I have less of a grip on reality than you? Probably.
And Neil and Eugene; be patient, you are in it.
There is a good reason why this newsletter is late……
It’s because I got lost; horribly lost, and because things keep happening…..
I had been planning to cycle from London to Brighton, not on the London to Brighton run, but just as a bit of fun. So one Wednesday in June:
Early one morning,
Just as the sun was rising,
I heard a young maid sing,
In the valley below.
Oh, don’t deceive me,
Oh, never leave me,
How could you use
A poor maiden so?
Oh for goodness sake Adrian, give it a rest. Is that the real reason you got lost, or were you more likely led by a bottle?
Anyway, I left the shop at 5.15am, switched on my Sat Nav, put my iPhone in my pocket, climbed aboard “Il Cervo” and turned south.
I had decided to avoid the motorway, obviously, and the A23. This meant I would head off into deepest Surrey and Sussex countryside. The sun was shining, I have an excellent sense of direction, the 55 or 60 miles would be a doddle, or so I thought.
Now if you are on a bike and you go in the wrong direction, you expend effort going in the wrong direction, and I did this time and time again. I had got horribly lost. I had to keep stopping to stare at the dying embers of my phone to see which way I had gone wrong this time, it was getting dark……OK it wasn’t, it was 11.30 am, and the 60 miles became 72 miles. I stopped on the seafront in Brighton took a photo, Pinkie threw me a knowing glare toyed with the cut throat in his pocket, another southern softie ready to be dealt with. Hastily, I bought a stick of rock and headed for the station. I wasn’t going to be stupid enough to get lost again on the way back!
I intend to plan the next long journey meticulously…..
It will be the Prudential Surrey 100. If I get lost on that one, then the 24,000 people trailing in my wake will be too.
I will shortly add a sponsorship link if you feel like helping a very good cause, in my case St John’s Hospice.
About here I think I’ll add a few words about the World Cup before we go any further, and then that will be that until the fat ladette sings.
After saying I was going to write about the World Cup, I have decided I can’t gather the strength. Someone will win it, the BBC coverage will obviously be better than ITV, and we are getting a few days break from it.
I’ve always hated Luis Suarez. Nothing he has done or can do will change my mind. He has the look of someone who I would like to hire Mike Tyson to bite their ear off. Of course they can’t ban him for life. If they did that, he couldn’t do it again, and again, and again. Then we’d have nothing to talk about, and I’d have no one to hate.
So I will give you this Youtube clip about why Sepp Blater keeps it going. Search “Last Week Tonight” with John Oliver about FIFA and the World Cup.
Then Germany go and beat Brazil 7-1. My 96 year old aunt has offered her defensive skills to Brazil for the 3rd place play off. She is at least a little more mobile, and certainly more tactically savvy than David Luiz, who appears to approach every challenge as an arm swinging Samba. I also have to say that I love my watches. However, given Brazil’s appalling display and the huge problems and poverty that remain, I was surprised at the end of the game with Thiago Silva commiserating Sig. Luiz whilst sending out the right signals to his countrymen wearing a Richard Mille worth more than €250k. Is he taking the PSG?
On another sporting note, and again in a sport not untainted by controversy, I have been following the Tour de France on ITV; of course all of the action happens during the ad breaks. Nothing happens whilst the camera is on the peleton, but as soon as we go to the adverts, someone pushes someone else off, or someone breaks away. What makes it worse is that these adverts are all for personal injury claims. Now I may have constructed this whole paragraph to get this photo taken of a shop window in Ibiza.
It has been said that I am currently followed everywhere by a faint whiff of sulphur; and I think as I passed the mirror at the top of the stairs I could swear the horns were starting to grow back: what makes me even more suspicious is that Emi keeps crossing herself every time she sees me.
So once again I shall return to the island. It will be a brief visit, but just imagine I am sitting typing this looking at the crystal clear water of Las Salinas. Jealous? I hope so. Perhaps I should be at work, but as a friend said to me, she’d like my job, and my Sunday Lunch.
Well I was going to write this at Las Salinas, but the beach was so crowded that I didn’t even have anywhere to put my towel. I am writing this at breakfast, if it is breakfast. I have been bonding with Neil and Eugene, and no that’s not the reason I’m not sure what time of day it is. However I do remember last night: dinner with Neil and Eugene, the following interesting dishes at Sa Brisas a new tapas place in Ibiza town.
After dinner Neil took a tired Scratch home.
Eugene and I continued drinking; we drank “Eugenes” in the port. Who in heaven’s name has a cocktail named after themselves! Then later Vodka and Red Bull. Why? Yes, why? Maybe it was the location or the campness of the evening, but Eugene and I then went shopping! It has to be said that if you go shopping at 1.30am in Ibiza, you will not be buying anything sensible, and this night was no exception. We entered a friend Jamel’s shop on Calle de la Virgen. Jamel is extremely talented and makes some fantastic leisurewear. For some of you, Calle del la Virgen will require no further explanation, and for those of you who require an explanation, you’re not getting one! Perseus this why you should be here, I could see you in a pair of these puppies! Eugene bought them and wore them away!!!! He was off to see a young lady in Bottafoch: yes, really! I really don’t need to make any of this up.
And Jamel, a little tip: if you don’t mind, I would have lined them in fur….
The three of us were sat down the other day and Neil and Eugene were bickering about who should have a greater presence in the newsletter. So I am trying to be diplomatic, but as Eugene said, his mum reads the Newsletter, so I take it all back. Your son is an angel and it’s my fault, and Neil’s. Plus ca change.
Neil has a new love; a fantastic Japanese restaurant in Ibiza Marina.
The fact that Eugene is opening a Bar/Restaurant under the walls of Ibiza Dalt Villa called Blonde means he gets a little extra mention. Please everybody, GO THERE. It makes me look good!
Sad news: my friend Mark is on the wagon, which means he won’t be going there. However it is good news for the wine evenings! I hadn’t seen him in a while and suddenly he appeared as if by magic; transformed, fresh faced as though a drop had never passed his lips. He could have been a problem at our wine tasting. This is a man who will drink his hotel minibar dry only for the maid to find him naked and comatose on the bed in the morning. I suppose it could determine how her day is going as to whether she finds him face up or face down.
I have been making ice cream in my spare time. All sorts of delicious flavours, but the favourites have been peanut butter with chocolate brownie, and almond with marzipan. I must also add that however much I love Vivi’s Creamery, mine are better. Those of you who know me well, and it has to be very well, will know about my love of ice cream, and my ability to eat it a litre at a time until I explode.
Finally a little good news the guys who designed the Candyshell iphone case ‘Amped’ they will see it launched in the UK this week, and this is only surpassed that Al and Victoria are expecting twins, and Stuart and Louise are also expecting all just in time for Christmas!