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2020 - Lanzarote - Day 1


There was a great big beautiful today waiting for me when I hobbled out onto the balcony this morning. Everywhere was lovely and quiet and sunny as I sat and ate my breakfast. All alone, as it wasn’t until I eventually woke Karen up at 9.35am that I had any company. Just after 9am the Radio Lanzarote had started playing from Reception over the pool area. On the balcony it is at a nice background volume. One of the things that always amazes me is that wherever you go in the world, everyone seems to love and play Phil Collins. His income from royalties must be enormous and it is ironic he is probably less appreciated in his own home country (not that he lives in the UK anymore).

Our first task this morning was to move the car. There was a great space free immediately below the back of our apartment. The trouble was that it would have taken me 10 minutes to drive round the convoluted one way system to get back to it. So with Karen acting as traffic Marshall I instead reversed back up the one way street into it.

We then headed to our usual morning coffee venue Dos Mil where we got the best seats and sat and watched the world go by for a hour having a very detailed conversation about the profits care homes make back in the UK.

As we had arranged to meet everyone in Reception at 2pm for the Mini Golf tournament, we RUSHED back to the apartment to have some lunch so not to be late, only to find the start had been pushed back by 30 minutes. We had no choice but to spend that time chilling on the balcony till we were chucked off by the arrival of the cleaners.

The venue for the tournament does not get better with age. The whole thing is much more luck than judgement. The only thought I had as defending was to play each shot and be risk adverse as possible whilst in contention and if not then try anything. The balls are not perfectly round, the greens are not flat and covered in debris, and the less said about the sticky putters the better. I also have a mind block about hitting through obstacles (like the big evil bunny) and mostly miss the tunnel underneath. As for hole 11, it is just a lottery and like Beechers Brook in the Grand National everyone can change position on the leaderboard after it.

After the first 9 holes I had a one shot lead with a very respectable score of 22. It was a shame I then took 36 on the back nine with 2 disastrous holes, one involving a mean crocodile you had to get through and over. In the end it was a three way tie with myself, Sharon & Iain. We could not have a play off as on the18th hole the ball disappears down a tube and the guy running the place had already locked up the gates for the day. So we shared the cup. Special mention though should made for Stuart’s impressive hole in one. It was a very good fun afternoon and lots of laughter.

As was tradition the winner(s) then bought some sangria for everyone to celebrate. Somehow Iain & I managed to get persuaded to go upstairs to a bar called The White Lion. The girls were not happy as it was windy and out of the sun. Nevertheless we rearranged some furniture and ordered the drinks. The sangria turned out to be rather strong and we all got rather noisy before we left. Nobody mentioned the fact that the tournament had started 30 minutes late.

After a time for relaxing on the balcony we met everyone again in Reception at 7.45pm before walking to the ‘Good Old Days’ restaurant. They apparently had suffered a fire two weeks prior and so were operating on a limited menu. What they didn’t tell us was that they were also operating with limited staff and so service was very slow. However when the food arrived it was very good and fresh. Karen & I both had the fresh cod goujons with real chips. The restaurant was family owned and run. A girl who we presumed to be a daughter set up to sing for the evening. She had a very mellow and surprisingly good voice. I would have been happy with stay and listen for a while after we had paid the bill, but everyone else was keen to move onto Ruta 66 which is a 80’s/90’s video bar.

Ruta 66 is different, not great just different. The clientele seem to remind me of the old Chicagos in Norwich, but thats me being snobbish. Actually though the bar had improved their sound system from our last visit and the volume was also slightly quieter meaning that you could make yourself heard provided you shouted which was an improvement to previous visits. Also all the screens had been upgraded to HD which meant they were watchable. Karen and I both had a cocktail each.

My big issue with the place though are the seats. They are high bar style chairs. The chairs and I have history. For the first 30 minutes I was thinking that I could not work out why I had had problems in the past. In fact I thought they seemed rather comfortable. Then I realised far too late that they had managed to cut off the circulation in both of my legs. It was agony. I tried standing up and leaning but by then the damage was done and I could not do anything to get the feeling back. I also knew that I would not be able to walk unaided without making a real exhibition of myself. I needed the toilet but feel too embarrassed to ask anyone to help me get there. I tried not to ruin Karen’s evening by leaving too early buy eventually I told her that I was ready to leave. I knew she was disappointed at leaving before everyone else but she sensed I was suffering. Trying to be as discreet as possible she helped me get out of the bar. It was such a relief to get my legs moving to try and get the feeling and circulation back. Karen had stiffened up as well and we must have looked a right old couple trying to each other up the road. We made very slow progress. It was a good 10 minutes before I got Pins & Needles in my right foot as the blood started flowing properly again. All this almost made me forget the constant pain in my left heel for a while.

I was so glad to be back and was asleep in bed within 5 minutes. It had been another good day.


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