Today is the fiesta of Sant Bartomeu in Alcúdia. It celebrates the harvest, and there is a procession with melons scooped out and used as lanterns. The lanterns would have come in use this morning. Grey.
There are few things worse than crap weather on holiday, except perhaps watching England losing to Germany while the weather’s crap on holiday. Misery. Forlorn, bedraggled, terminally hacked-off tourists dressed for the beach and served a dose of bank holiday in Skegness dark skies and rain. Well, at least the rain stopped this afternoon, though tomorrow’s forecast on Yahoo has a set of five leaves. Wind. Great for the kitesurfers out in numbers as they can’t collide with some inattentive child on a lilo. At least they offer some form of entertainment to tourists in search of something, anything to do.
The trouble is there is so little to do when it rains. Everything has to close. Even the restaurants are hard-pressed as they rely on their terraces. No-one wins. Everyone’s pissed off. Cue Steven Patrick ...
Yesterday - Eagles “Hotel California”. Today - well, I’ve given it you already, but everyone knows the title. Don’t they? So here’s a weather-lyric question. “You’d be wonderful if it wasn’t for the weather.” Who?
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