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We get up late and my girlfriend wants to go to Tarifa to sunbathe. I reluctantly agree to this and she spends an hour or
so toasting while I read the Sunday papers in a nearby bar drinking endless bottles of Coca Cola. Finally we drive home via
our favourite bar opposite Gibraltar in Algeciras. While we sit there an endless series of photo opportunities present
themselves.
We go to bed very late and experiment with the airconditioning which we have never used before. There is a control panel in
each room but they all seem to hang up so the easiest way to mess with it is via the internet! Eventually I manage to
persuade the unit in the bedroom to come on. It does feel cooler but statistics are not on it's side. When we get up it
has only managed to drop the temperature by two degrees and it is colder outside.
Later we head for the border as my girlfriend wants to go swimming in the sea. The queue is enormous and we sit there for an hour. We are surrounded by exotic cacti but hardly notice.
When I wake up I find that the Johan de Witt has decided to leave Gibraltar. Sadly, we have decided to do likewise as we
are on our way to Ireland to escape the summer heat.
The drive to Malaga is uneventful and the only excitement of the day is finding coffee ice cream in the Haagan Dazs
in the airport. In the plane we sit by the emergency exits as that gives us a bit more room.
We are in England! I spend all day seeing people while my girlfriend goes off to Dunham Massey park. I am pleased to see that the Black Boy sun dial has come back - I feared that it may have been permanently removed by the politically correct brigade. I am not sure that the sundial works properly - I think it may be pointing in the wrong direction.
In the afternoon my girlfriend goes to Primark where she buys five items of clothing for the grand total of £19. When I pick her up she explains that there was a lovely dress for £12 which she has not bought. So, off we go to Primark again. When we get there she cannot remember the size so picks up a couple of copies of the dress to try on. It turns out that the changing room is at least 100 yards away. And there is a huge queue. And somebody sits on the only chair as I reach it. I wait and I wait. Neither of the dresses fit. We leave without the dress. Words are exchanged.
In the afternoon I go to Oulton Park race track as somebody is interested in buying my Radical SR3. The mechanic has worked
wonders in getting it through the sound test (it was too loud). It goes round very quickly and sounds great!
In the evening we arrange to meet some friends in the
Beetham Tower
in Manchester. The bar on the 23rd Floor is packed but we finally find somewhere to sit. After a while the fire brigade
turn up to extract somebody from the lift. We decide, on reflection, to go down in another lift.
The early hours find us in a kebab house in Shude Hill, Manchester which is knee deep in litter and pretty girls. One of
our number (on the right) gets into conversation with two of the pretty girls but unfortunately all the rest
escape.
We are up bright and early to get the ferry to Ireland. We have paid for "premium loading", whatever that may be, but
they screw up. To make amends they reorganise things so that we are in pole position to drive off the boat when it arrives.
That would be great except that our door does not open until they have let off a stream of lorries. Still, they did try
and the food was truly excellent and very good value, amazingly. Well done Stena Line.
We get to the flat we have rented and make endless trips up and down in the lift until finally we are all unloaded and
ready for Dublin!
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