Being Gothic, I'm not used to these 'holiday' type things. All of that pissing about with postcards and suncream is not really on a Gothic agenda at all. However, due to the fact that I was wound tighter than an 'E'-string on a mandolin, I acquiesced at the prospect of going back to Spain.
So, having braved the parade of idiots at the airport, the moronic tendencies of hire-car people, and the sun, we arrived at the hotel.
Sun, sea and boat rides to see some dolphins (doing what dolphins do - i.e. swimming in the sea) were advertised.
I couldn't avoid the sun - much as I tried but, fortunately, I didn't turn into a pile of dust. I do now look like a Gothic lollipop with white bits exactly where I left them.
I saw the sea - it was big, and wet, and full of water.
I also went on the boat ride, much as I loathe water with a vengeance, and saw dolphins. Were they wild dolphins? I think not - they seemed mildly perturbed but put on a performance at the front of the boat - in an arranged fashion. I stayed at the back.
Returning to the hotel, I tried to resist the temptation to entice the gorgeous Scandinavian receptionist back to the room.
Why? What man could resist a beautiful girl with pert breasts?
Don't know - don't care because I am no man, I'm a Goth and in my bed lies a woman.
Not just any woman - but, in my Gothic opinion, a slice of heaven and the reason I have gone from 'mandolin' to 'cello', briefly passing a 'harpsicord' on the way for Gothic effect.
Te quiero Mariposa - mi media naranja