A Postcard From Lanzarote #2


There are two main drawbacks to any holiday: the wifi strength and the mattress. The problems caused by the latter are rectified by a few yoga moves and a big fat anti-inflammatory each morning. The former would seem to be fairly terminal this year: I don’t know if it’s the mountains, the Telefonica Español or the general ‘mañana’ attitude of the island, but it ain’t happening. I am on a social media blackout, for which I’m sure a great many of you will be forever grateful. A couple may miss me, but the majority are probably putting up the bunting as I type. It’s postcards or nothing folks.

So …(I started this sentence thus just to irk a certain fishmonger friend who hates any sentences starting with So…) the first mission of the day today was to find the bike hire shop, which, having walked miles in one direction we finally discovered 200 yards from the villa in the opposite direction. Thankfully Gary was on hand to help us- sporting a natty little t shirt that said Bike Mechanic on the back. After an hour in Gary’s company watching him struggle with the simplest of mechanical tasks I can only assume that his own shirt was in the wash and he had borrowed the t-shirt from the real mechanic. Anyway, a couple of bikes have now been secured, pedals attached, saddles swapped and we’re good to go, with a cheeky little 40km ride planned for today. There is, however, a slight flaw to this plan that AlphaMale has overlooked: the sun. The temperature has just hit Gas Mark 9 and I have attached myself to a sunbed: any form of physical activity is looking highly unlikely for the next few hours. AM knows that any attempt to move me may result in physical injury- to him, not me- and has thrown the towel in and is now happily sizzling next to me. No doubt we will get out on the bikes at some point later this afternoon; as long as it’s before Rioja O’clock we should be fine. Never drink and ride, you always end up spilling some.

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