We were very pleased to get to our beds, and didn't pay much attention to the music outside from a nightclub. My bed was too soft, and I woke up about six with a bad neck. I got up and went and sat on the patio, watching the sun come up, feeling ever so relaxed and pleased to be where we were. From our patio you could see the lighthouse which winked every 10 seconds or so until about seven in the morning. You could see the big ships coming in towards the harbour at Mahon. It was warm and so quiet and peaceful.

Pat woke up and we went down for breakfast at eight. We had decided to be obedient and wait to be served this time. Pat decided to get on the good side of the starchy head waiter, so she asked him how to say Good Morning in Spanish. And each day after that he would teach her a new word, and he was so pleased when she remembered it.

The breakfast was self-service except for coffee or tea. We had a choice of cornflakes or muesli, yoghurt, ham, cheese, fruit juices, various types of bread and toast, muffins, doughnuts, prunes and other dried fruits, and from the hot side, sausages or bacon, eggs, and beans or tomatoes. The first morning, I took lots of extra bread, meat and fruit, thinking I would make my lunch. But, law-abiding Pat told me there was a sign outside the door saying food was not allowed to be removed from the dining room. You were welcome to eat as much of any or all of the food while there, but no food was to be removed. I was so annoyed. I couldn't possibly have eaten all the food I'd taken, so I took a bite out of each thing, so they couldn't reuse it, and went home grumpy.

Our plan for Tuesday was to go into Mahon on the bus. We had found out the bus left at 9 each day, and returned at 20 to 1. This fit into our pattern of spending the afternoon in the sun, so we were quite pleased about it. When we got to the bus stop, there was quite a long queue. We sat on the wall next to some people and started chatting to them. They turned out to be from Romiley, just up the road from Marple. Ron was a first year learner in Pauline's class, and his wife Marion, was a non-player who had come just for the holiday. I felt sorry for her alone every evening, but she didn't seem to mind, said she had sewing and things to keep her busy and they spent the days out together.

The bus was fairly full going into Mahon. We stopped once about half way in at the village of San Luis, and picked up a few more. The trip only took about 20 minutes all together, and when we arrived, we found that the park in the town square was having an outdoor market - apparently a thing that only happened on Tuesdays and Saturdays. I love markets because to me they spell bargains. But apparently nobody had told the people of Mahon about that. They spelled fleecing the tourists from their point of view. The prices were much higher than we would have paid for much better items in England. The pickings were tatty and the sellers not particularly helpful or interested in us. We remembered our Turkey-shopping days with great nostalgia. There were probably a hundred stalls - selling tablecloths, jewellery, shoes, clothes, pictures, souvenirs, but nothing very exciting or very cheap.

After we had had our fill of looking, and decided not to buy anything at all that day, we wandered down the town streets towards the harbour. As Pat had been here before, she knew what to look for and how to get there. We wanted to find the vegetable and fruit market. This was in an old monastery just above the harbour. It was vast and here the stalls were all around the periphery of the building. The people inside were mostly locals, in contrast to the people at the town square market who were nearly all tourists. The food prices were considerably cheaper than we had paid for our fruit at the local supermarket. We decided we'd stop on the way back and buy a few pieces to take back with us. Then we walked down to the harbour.

The main descent was wide and beautiful and quite an experience in itself. But on this first trip down we used a smaller less impressive set of steps. Upon arriving at the bottom, we just wandered over to get a better look at the huge boats. We walked along the edge of the road where there were a few shops, and wandered in just for fun. The first shop we entered turned out to be made from a cave into the hillside. At the very back was a sort of tableau with sea shells and fishermen’s nets and various sea-like bits and pieces - all rather dramatically lit. The shop sold lots of things including good quality pottery. I found that they sold playing cards, and having decided that I was going to buy some for my own present, we planned to stop back at the shop on our return journey. We then went about 2 blocks further along the seafront to the Gin Factory.

Pat had visited this place on her previous trip, so knew the routine. The factory actually made gin and various liquors, and you could see the stills and various bits of equipment towards the back of the building. But mostly people were interested in the front of the building. Lots of little jigger-size glasses were put out, and everyone helped themselves to one of these. Then in about three locations, there were bottles of all the sorts of drink made on the premises, and you were invited to sample them all.

Here it was 10 o'clock in the morning and we were drinking jiggers of dozens of different kinds of liquors-and gin. I'm sure nearly everybody there bought something in the end - so the freebies did the trick. I got a pre-packaged selection of 7 small bottles of liquors and Pat took 4 individual ones that she liked. I have a feeling I probably drank more than the amount I bought, but never mind. Having had our fill, and feeling rather lightheaded and giggly, we started back along the front.

We stopped in at another gift shop - this one was again mainly pottery - and they actually had the potter at work behind windows at the rear so we could see him in action. A school group was being given a tour while we were there. Then we returned to our cave shop and I bought 2 souvenir crib scenes as presents for my girls, and a pack of cards. Deciding on which set of cards took a long time. I could have got cheap ordinary cards. Or I could have got a double pack with Spanish dancers on them. But I chose a very expensive option - only 1 pack because they looked like the most authentic Spanish cards to me. I took them to the owner, and she wrapped each present in paper and labelled them carefully. She then quoted the price to me, which was about 300 pesetos above what I had worked it out to be. I corrected her, and she quickly agreed my price. She didn't speak any English at all, and I'm quite sure she had hoped I wouldn't have known enough about the money to challenge her.

Then we went back up the beautiful staircase, stopping to chat with fellow bridge players, went back to the fruit market and bought oranges, apples and a kiwifruit. We meandered slowly back up the town shopping street, pricing things but not seriously shopping. When we got to the Centre, where the bus left from, Pat found a shop where she could get very cheap slippers. She had bought some of these last time she had been in Minorca, and this place had by far the best prices - so she bought two pairs. We then went to queue for our bus - along with a very large number of very hot people. Just in front of us was a small baby- no hat on - standing in the full sun - crying fitfully. We kept muttering about how stupid the mother was, but she didn't seem to get our message. Another young girl got sick and was quickly taken to one side, and then returned to not lose her place in the queue.

When the bus finally came, we seemed to be getting on for ages. I think we must have had four times the number of people as there were seats on the bus. We were squashed together as close as humanly possible. But as it was only a short journey, we all survived. We walked back to our apartment, had our quick cracker and cheese and apple lunch, and went down to soak up the sun. When I felt it was late enough for me not to get sunstroke, I went down, and feeling particularly brave, went for a swim. The water was really warm - like a tepid bath. I swam a few lengths without drowning so felt very pleased with myself. When we'd finished with sun worshiping for the day, we went on our daily walk.

First we went back to our little supermarket. We had tried in vain to get our stove working. I really wanted to be able to have a drink and something to eat when I got up at 6 each morning. So I bought some orange juice and sugar coated cereal. We also got some croissants to eat with our lunches, I got some awful cookies, and some more drinks. Then we walked down to the sea. This time we decided to explore to the western side of the beach. It wasn't easy to see how one got into that area, yet we could see people on the cliff paths walking. So we walked along the sea for a bit, and climbed over a wall, and along very overgrown paths until we came to an obviously well-worn path. It wasn't far to the next little village - maybe 15 minutes walk. This area was also a tourist area, but not part of the S'Algar complex. It was very empty and much more natural looking. We eventually found a way down to the beach, which in fact had sand on it.

There were also jetties running out into the sea, and we sat on the edge of one, and dangled our feet into the Mediterranean. It looked remarkably clean considering what one hears about the extreme pollution. We saw minnows and crabs and some lizards darting across the paths. I noticed that the main vegetation was the Rubber Tree - like the ones we try so hard to grow in pots in England. Pat said all the ones around our hotel were that kind too, I just hadn't noticed before.

For supper that night we were offered lamb stew, veal with blue cheese or and cauliflower, and spinach in pastry.  There were pancakes with very sweet fruit as well as the usual cakes and ice cream.

We were looking forward to the duplicate bridge that evening. We sat down with Margaret and Mollie - to find that Margaret was so nervous that she had had to have two stiff gins to get up her courage. She did have the advantage and disadvantage of having a very good partner - who noticed every mistake she made. Mollie was very diplomatic and kind about mistakes, but also felt that unless they were pointed out, people could not learn from them. So for Margaret, the week was one long bridge lesson.

We played the first lot of two boards against them. Margaret made a mistake which wasn't dreadful, but which I don't think any of the rest of us would have made. Because of this, she and her partner went down on the hand, when it could easily have made 3 No Trump. Margaret was devastated, because she knew what she had done wrong as soon as she had done it. She kept apologizing and bemoaning the fact that on that hand, they would probably have the lowest score in the whole group. Mollie said, "Okay, Margaret, yes, you did make a rotten mess of that hand. You really cocked it up. Now will you forget it. I don't want you to mention it or even think about it again." It was a sort of shock treatment. I think Margaret must have improved because they came second for the evening. We only came fourth playing from our direction. The winners from our directions were in fact Dorothy and Judy - ladies whom I had taught originally about 5 years before. After 3 years with me, they moved on to Pauline's class and obviously had continued to improve.