One of the features of the hotel was a free trip to the market at San Severa which turned out to be free as it was a walking trip and I was well surprised when Annette said we’d go. It was the last day and I guessed it was to be the hunt for family presents, although on the evidence of euro pricing I was not expecting it to be anything much. Our hotel owner was leading the way and he promised the zimmer frame brigade it was only a twenty minute walk. The guy was actually quite fit as it turned out to be closer to a forty minute slog, mostly uphill in a temperature of roughly 30 degrees.
He got everyone there safely and pointed out where we could catch the bus back when we’d had a good look round. It didn’t look like much to start with but, was one long maze like set up that wound round just about every little street in the village. I reckon we spent a good hour looking around but, as I suspected there was little difference from the stocks of the shops in Calla Millor and prices that made us shudder. However, there were a few original items at reasonable prices and we took back a bag of trinkets that may have please 19 century Sioux or Apaches but, I doubted that they’d excite our grown up kids. More fun was finding stuff for Alicia, even if she would never know where it came from.
We went back to the bus stop and when the bus arrived a bunch of krauts led by their reps promptly crossed the road and pushed in front of all the grannies at the head of the queue. I cursed them in German and took some consolation from the fact it wasn’t really our bus at all and they had probably stopped half the Brits getting lost. Still the bare face arrogance of the reps and people from the other hotel was annoying.
We checked the bus timetable and there was still twenty minutes before the next bus to Calla Millor so we went of to a yokel bar and had a couple of cold beers. Now I am instantly on my guard anywhere without a price list and although the bar was clearly busy with Spanish I was expecting the prices to be over the top and I was very surprised to find they were very reasonable. I should have known from the trips to Berlin, a few yards of the main track and local customers = good value.
Refreshed we went to go to the bus stop and Annette surprised me once again by suggesting we walked back as it was all down hill. Suited me and off we went. About a third of the way back there is an open air gym in a wooded area and I had a brief play on some of the equipment (see Annette’s clips on facebook) but, it was getting rather hot so I had no intention of going mad, especially has we still had a lot of walking to do. Not far from the open gym there is a new ring road that has been built with EU money and the guide was telling us that everyone hates it as it curves away from the original route we were following and adds about 5 Km to the journey. Not too much I suspect but, as he said if you use it for work every day like most of them do as it is a main route, then it is an extra 50km, at least, every week and at a time when petrol prices had soared and wages were frozen at best and under threat of cuts at worst. I could see their point, and the old road they had blocked off looked perfectly useable and was definitely wide enough for heavy traffic.
Back in Calla Millor we went into the nearest supermarket and got emergency cold beer and more wine for Annette. The main task for the day was to weigh the cases and calculate how many bottles of caramel vodka she could take back. we had at least 8 kilo spare so I knew there would be a good bottle hunt later on. Not surprising the rest of the afternoon was spent round the pool and the evening we went out for the vodka and emergency rations. Annette had found some local biscuits that took her fancy and I grabbed some crisps to keep me going on the flight back.
Finished the night off in Sunset bar again and as I didn’t think I could do Spain without a taste of sangria we ordered a large jug. It was not to my taste though as he had given it a generous dose of rum and I’m not really a spirit drinker. I was expecting a good red wine mixed with fruit which is generally quite refreshing but, I found this too strongly flavoured of rum. Annette however, likes rum so she was quite happy to finish off what I left. I did soldier on, forcing two glasses down me.
As last nights go it was pretty tame and fitted in with the whole relaxed experience of the holiday, and for once I was not chaffing at the bit to get back home. The room even had a tv and we viewed what I consider to be essential holiday viewing, the horrors of weather that were hitting the UK. I was pleased to see we were heading back into a warm spell so would not be plunged into freezing cold temperatures when we got back.
THE JOURNEY HOME
We had a reasonably late check out, about ten o’clock but, still ended up waiting twenty minutes or more for the coach transfer to the airport. The emergency repair I did to the wheels on my suitcase were fine until I hit a bump and then it all went out of balance and tilted wildly onto one wheel until I stopped and leveled it all up again. Fortunately there was not too far to walk at the airport and the queues made any fast pace impossible anyway. Poor sods who were traveling to Edinburgh were told when they checked in the baggage that they had an eighteen hour delay! Makes you wonder why the hell they checked everyone out when they already knew. OK, they needed the rooms for the other guests but, they could have left them round the hotel lounge and pools until a later time. Good news for them, if they noticed, it meant they would be entitled to a compensation payment. Glad I wasn’t off to Edinburgh.
With this in mind and the size of the queues I wondered if we would get off on time, but there was no news of any delay to Brum. We eventually got on the plane and found it was a tadge more roomy than the usually cramped charabanc style seating and what’s more we had not been bunged in aisle seats so could sleep without getting bashed by the fat arses of everyone walking up and down. We were soon told there was a delay as it was Saturday and Palma was very busy and they had missed there slot because of late take of of previous airplane. Luckily we had a good pilot and he taxied to the end of the flight path and just went for it when there was a few minutes spare. I suppose the air traffic controllers gave him the green light to take off but, I am pretty sure a less experienced pilot could have been stuck next to the terminal for hours. I expect if you are in position for take off then , they have to shift you or everyone else gets delayed.
Back in Blighty all went smoothly except our car wasn’t where they said it was supposed to be but, it was only a matter of minutes before they found it. It was warm enough not to be freezing to death and nice and sunny. It had been a good holiday.