We arrived home from our holiday late on Sunday evening and Monday morning I had 95 duty which is Winchester – London – Brighton – London – Winchester. As I drove up the M3 in all the Monday morning traffic I maintained the calm, relaxed feeling our holiday had left me with. There was then a queue on the M4 but that didn’t bother me ‘once I reach the bus lane all will be fine’ I thought. I’d not done 200 metres in the bus lane and was accelerating past crawling cars and lorries when a cretinous pillock of a black cab driver pulled out of the second motorway lane and into the bus lane in front of me. Over the entire length of the bus lane he never exceed 35 mph! By the time we got to the end of the bus lane I couldn’t see the back of the line of buses lined up behind me. He managed to undo all the good feelings it had taken a week to generate in just a few miles. Yes, he’s got the right to use the lane but why use it if you don’t want to travel more than a couple of miles per hour quicker than the non-bus lanes?

Today we had breakfast in Santa Cruz where at 10:00 the temperature was 22 degrees and very pleasant. After breakfast we headed uphill for an 18 mile drive to this place.

These rocks are the highest point on La Palma and are a little under 8,000 feet above sea level. As we neared the top of the mountain it began to snow! We got out of the car to take pictures of one another at the summit but still being in shorts and T shirts we didn’t hang around for long. We drove back to sea level before lunch and were again comfortable in shorts and T shirts :-)

Unfortunately it’s not a picture postcard since I didn’t think to bring a USB cable to connect my camera to the laptop which is a real shame since the place is spectacular! I’ll post some pictures when we’re home. All in all it’s one of the nicest places I’ve been to. I wrote how we’d chosen La Palma for, amongst other things, it’s lack of mass tourism. This has proved to be very true to the extent that it’s been difficult to find anyone who speaks English. I’m not the sort of Englishman who expects everyone to speak English and there is no need to bother with the language of the native! But I am surprised at how few people in a European location speak English – the hotel is 4 star but only one of the guys on reception speaks any English and he’s not always there. I’d have thought they’d use English as a ‘universal’ language for Scandinavians, North Americans and non Spanish Europeans but it seems not. However, I think the local staff can speak German because, apart from us, the only non Spanish guests in the hotel are German. We also hear German spoken by other tourists we see around. So much so that Essy and I mouth to one another “Don’t mention the war!” in true Fawltey Towers fashion everytime we hear German.

We had to visit a pharmacy today because Essy has developed a rash on the side of her face, again no English spoken so it was all done with sign language. Essy pointed to her rash and made a scratching motion to indicate that it itched, the pharmacist moved her hands over her body asking if the rash was on her whole body but the hand motion looked like she was making the sign of the cross. “I think she says you’re going to die” I said to Essy! But no, it wan’t that serious.

Lunch was eaten on the balcony of a restaurant, overlooking a tiny harbour and a beautifully blue Atlantic Ocean, there was not a cloud in the sky and it was 24 degrees celcius in the shade. Essy started with fish croquettes and I had a very large plateful of boiled prawns. The prawns were very similar to Selsey Prawn I’ve mentioned before and were superb. I then had Paella which was good but Essy’s looked even better, she had three different fishes which had been dusted with flour and fried. One may have been a gurnard, it was red and spiny and not very attractive, but the flesh was terrific. Neither of us have eaten meat since we’ve been here. Essy always has fish but I’ve had octopus, squid and fish.

Taken from the current issue of Private Eye :-)

Most of our holidays are spontaneous, being booked only a week or so before departure. Our next holiday is no exception, we’re off to the Canary Islands on Sunday for a one week and it’s all been planned and booked in the past 7 days.

On Sunday morning we fly Iberia to Madrid and then from Madrid to La Palma – NOT Palma in Majorca, NOT Las Palmas on Gran Canaria but here. It’s one of the smaller Canary islands and it’s appeal for us is that it doesn’t have any mass tourism. Having booked the flights we next needed a hotel and I was very pleased to discover that La Palma has a parador, “The hotels in the Parador Group were set up by the state to use quality tourism to act as guardian of the national and artistic heritage of Spain and to assist regions with fewer economic resources”. I’ve stayed in Paradores before and they’ve all been first class so we’ve high hopes of a very comfortable week. The final bookings were a hire car and parking at Heathrow for a week. I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything!

Currently the temperature there is in the low 20’s. As I look out of the window as I type this in Southampton the rain is beating on the glass, trees are swaying around as if they might uproot themselves and the temperature is in single figures. I think we’re going to be having a nice time in La Palma :-)

I’m sick and tired of hearing this. I call a business with whom I deal and whatever is I want to know we have to go through this damned pallaver. They wont even tell you their opening hours without you ‘go through security first’. Yesterday I turned the tables!

My mobile ‘phone supplier (that’s who they said they were) called and asked if they were speaking to Malcolm Loades. “Yes” I replied. “This is xyz communications. I’d just like to take you through a couple of security questions first”. Whoaaaa! “You’ve rung me so I’ve no proof you are who you say you are. It’s me who’s going to ask you a couple of security questions so I know that you are who you claim to be”. That produced silence for sometime, then the voice at the other end of the line asked “Do you understand the Data Protection Act?”. “I believe I do” was my response. “Then you’ll understand that we can’t talk to you without checking that you really are Malcolm Loades”. “If I’d rung you I’d agree with that because someone without any authority may be trying to close my account etc” I said “but in this instance you’ve rung me and I’ve no proof whatever that you are who you say are. You may well be someone trying to collect my ‘security question type information’ which could then be used for identity theft”. They kept protesting that they were unable to talk to me without checking that I was Malcolm Loades and I told them I wouldn’t talk to them unless they allowed me to ask a question or two to see if the were genuine or bogus. I suggested that they write to me about whatever they wanted to say on the ‘phone, and so I ended the stalemate.