Mass Destruction

So this morning started disgustingly early. I mean 7AM. Far, far too early. So the quest started for coffee. I started at the restaurant we ate lunch at yesterday, coffee was from a grotty machine. However the waiter did ask how I wanted my eggs. I went for boiled, specified the time, and they were pefect. I had nothing else for breakfast. I continued my quest for the finest coffee. In the end I ended up at the lobby bar, they had a gleaming coffee machine. I pointed. The man said, ‘Finest coffee in hotel’. He poured. I was satisified. I was hanging around the restaurant booking mahines until 8:30, in fact it was 8:31 before I could book the next days restaurant. We are doing okay on that front. We eventually descended down to the residence pool at about 11AM. No problem getting some sun beds. Pretty much as soon as we were settled the spa salesman came around. I had already planned to get a treatment before the man had arrived, so this was well timed. Jamie was not keen in the slightist. I booked us both in for a Turkish bath and bronze massage, as this is the best way to start a tanning holiday. We sat for a couple of hours before the spa session. I was in a pair of speedos, I had the woman, Jamie had the fairly fit bloke. I was endanger of getting a hard-on but managed to keep it down after thinking of my mother naked. The Turkish bath was great, the massage was great. Jamie actually enjoyed it so much he said we should get another one at the end of the week. Cunt. Retired to lunch. And fuck me, what a lunch. I ordered the sea bass. Now, remember this is lunch, at an all inclusive. The fish arrrived, and by fish, I mean the fish arrived complete, with a single potato and something that resembled a thimble of salad. It was sublime. That would have cost me about twenty quid at home. This was fucking lunch. We retired back to the sun beds. I’ve finally fallen in love with an iPhone again. It plays music, it has face book, it’s the size of a phone, rather than the size of a large book. Anyway, I read Jeremy Clarkson and listened to Chasing Status. At 6PM I had a meeting with a rep who wanted to sell me something I wasn’t interested in. Thankfully, whoever didn’t turn up, not that I made great effort to find them. I had another nice coffee instead. Went back to the room. Changed into my running shorts. Okay, I’m on holiday. But I don’t want to be a lazy shit. There is a nice 1600M running track around the outskirts of the hotel. I did a rather slow 10K. There was little wind and the temperature was great. It took under an hour. It was nice actually. Allowed me to build up a bit of an appitite. We ate at ‘Sofa’ which was one of the new resturants here. Quite a small place. Fine dining. We dressed up to the nines for the occasion, which I must admit was quite fun. The meal was extremely high quality, even if a little lacking in substance. Now. This is a the point I had a bit of a dilemma. The matrie D here was very good (apologise for the SP there, the spell checker on this iPad with this keypad is bloody useless). Everyone who left was shaking hands with the guy and slipping him some Euro. I dived off to the room and grabbed some cash. Now I’m pretty poor so I went to reception and got some change. Made it back to the restaurant and had coffee. On leaving I shook hands and passed five Euro. Okay, not a great amount, but it seemed to be the correct thing to do. He made sure our glasses were full and our meal was served correctly. Lets put this in perspective. If I had been to a top end restaurant and eaton what we had, I would have had bugger all change from a ton. Afterwards we went back to the room and changed into something less formal. I went for a T-shirt and shorts. We then went to the cocktail bar in the middle of a field in the ass end of nowhere, where after a couple of rounds, the third round appeared by magic. Afterwards we retired to the lobby bar to yet more cocktails. I feel some food coming on. Afterall, the dinner was nice, but to be honest I could have got the contents in a sandwich with room to spare.

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