Author

The temperature hit 39 today in Benalmadena. I've just sent my latest novel and all the bits to the publishers today, and have spent most of this afternoon and evening in the pool. I find I think of the best editing AFTER the damn things gone!

Granddaughter and her pal got away okay on Easyjet, and arrived at home in Norfolk around 2am. Long day but they sleep until early afternoon as a matter of course so nothing different there then.

My 4 x 4 has broken down, needs a new alternator. Garage here wants circa 880€ to supply and replace it, so have sent to the UK for one and, after paying mechanic, the bill will be circa 210€. Some Spanish businessmen think Brits fell out of the trees with pockets full of money....

We visited a beachside restaurant a few days ago. Flies, poor service, and a paella that was heated until almost dry means we won't return. I ordered a steak, and when placed in front of me it reminded me of the smell when I empty the Dyson for my lady. The waitress, who was heavily pregnant, took so long to bring us agua con gas that it would have been quicker to catch a flight to Switzerland and fill a flask from an Alpine spring. I didn't leave a tip. Happily this sort of experience is rare here. Restaurants here cater mainly for tourists, and the fare is usually 'okay', but not often much better than that. You pick your own places where the food suits your taste and pocket. The odd ones are good, and we tend to stick to those that we have been to before, and where we enjoyed what they served. I think English restaurants have the edge, mind you my father often said that to eat well in Britain you should have breakfast three times a day. The Spanish have yet to realise that dessert can be their biggest money-spinner. They hardly ever have home-made postre's, and rely heavily on ice-cream variants that they get delivered by the truckload. It's always an anti-climax. A bit like stripping off a transvestite.

I'm proud to be British. I'm a firm believer that the world consists of two groups, The British, and foreigners. One group consists of circa 60 million people who are brilliant and always right, and the other of around 4 billion people, who don't really matter. I remember an American woman, with beautiful auburn hair and fantastic eyes, once saying to me in New York, "I always fall for Englishmen, it's the accent. You can say stupid things and it still sounds clever." I took her to dinner, no wonder her figure was slim, she never stopped talking long enough to eat. I never did get a chance to say anything stupid, except in the morning as I left her apartment, and mumbled 'Goodbye." Her dress was on the bedside chair, along with her wig, and eye lashes.

It's a funny old world, someone went out and shot JFK, and allowed George W to live.

They say an actress is only as good as her parts, well I always believed that Sophia Loren's parts looked pretty good from where I was sitting in the cinema, in my youth. She went to Drama School and learnt two things, one, she couldn't act, and two, it didn't matter.

I used to like sex on television, but now the sets are so narrow it's difficult to balance.

Hasta Pronto.

My lady and I went up to Mijas Pueblo last week. It's known as the White Village on account of the fact that all buildings are painted white. Its a very old place, full of charm. Donkeys pull carriages that tourists travel around in. I always feel so sorry for these animals (the donkeys, not the tourists) because it's so hot at this time of year and they pull a fair old weight. Imagine, a driver and up to four people. We went to get me a new leather wallet. My old one is so old we found Roman coins in the pouch. Mijas has many leather goods shops, and I found what I was looking for, and to my mind got a good bargain. There is a wide vaiety of shops there and one that particularly interested me was a cafe called 'The Chocolate Factory'. It has featured on BBC TV. They sell home made chocolates, and there is a mini factory there where, for a price, you can make your own. We had a hot chocolate, coffees, and a brownie. A bit expensive, and the service is a wee bit scatty, mainly because its a family affair, and they're not too well organised, but in a nice way.

My grand daughter and her pal are staying with us at the moment. Two 19 year olds. My garden now is adorned with many empty and half full glasses, discarded sarongs and swim suits, plus an assortment of fashion/girlie magazines, three pairs of sunglasses, empty crisp packets, half empty sun tan lotion bottles, and similar items. Those of you that have young women staying know what I'm saying........

My grand daughter did, in her best Spanish, which she'd copied down on a sheet of paper,  ask for directions once, after they got off the train in Malaga, the lady she asked was totally perplexed, and my grand daughter later realised that she'd asked for a recipe for Yorkshire Pudding.

I usually take the girls to the clubbing area (that's musical drinking clubs, not cavemen exercise area's) around 11 o'clock and they normally stagger back to our villa around 5 or 6 am. Yesterday I took them to the train station and they caught the train to Malaga to see the sights. I expected them to take in Picasso's Museum etc., but when I picked them up they had only made it to the mall, and came home with lots of bags containing Stradivarius clothing products etc! I guess that 'culture' to them means something akin to Boy George and the like.

Incidentally the trains here are still quite good. Clean and normally on time. Unfortunately, since they were privatised, fares have gone up, maintenance reduced, and staff numbers slashed. We Brits know all about that, don't we?

My grand daughter remarked at how loud the Spanish talk, even when standing next to each other. It's a common trait. Of course, we can't talk as loud as them, we have centuries of fog in our throats. Her friend is a bit paranoid about foreigners, she thinks they all speak English behind our backs. My grand daughter loves Spain but she's not so keen on the bacon in their bacon sandwiches. She is, of course, blonde. For example she thinks that all Shakespeare did was to string together a lot of old and well-known quotations. She starts Uni at Brighton in September.....you Brighton academics have been warned.

A Spanish friend of mine said that he was always puzzled by something. He considered that I was completely honest yet I could write some great novels about villains, thieves, crooks, and serial killers......

One thing the Spanish can't do is make decent soup. It always tastes as if it's been drained out of an old rubber boot.

As I told my son on the phone yesterday, I want to die peacefully in my sleep like my grand father, not screaming and shouting like his passengers........

Hasta Pronto