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| This really made me laugh |
followed the next day by this spooky little number,
Last night's storm has cleared the air, the humidity has dropped and the sky is blue. We had a wonderful morning at the beach, again soothing my mosquito bites in the briny sea. The three bites on my back have joined up to form a map of Cuba!
Later that day I was explaining to a member of staff how badly bitten we have both been despite bringing a plug-in for the room, using a vile smelling spray-on repellent on our exposed bits every evening, after-bite sticks and antihistamine cream. 'In that case it's probably not the mosquitoes' she said sagely 'It will be the tiny spiders'. I had seen a couple of minute beige spiders here and there, but had no clue that they bite. Now every time I sit down or get into bed I have to sweep for spiderlings, bugger!
Tonight we are booked into the French Restaurant, fingers crossed it's not as 'crepe' as the rest. I can report that the 'Romantic French Restaurant' was neither. It was a huge, featureless room, no music, no candles, no romance. It was like dining in a curtained off area of an aircraft hanger. The food was edible but nothing a Frenchman would recognise. For instance I had a dry rolled up piece of fish and rice, and ice-cream. The waitress offered us goat shit! We looked at each other, stifling giggles, and asked her to repeat, 'Goat shit' she confirmed. We laughed, surely not, but then again.........
The next day we skipped lunch and instead spent the afternoon sunbathing at the 'piscina tanquila', me reading Graham Norton's laugh-out-loud autobiography and occasionally taking a leisurely swim up to the bar for a pina colada. 'Hellish darling' as my friend Sarah would say. We had a couple of rum and cokes in the lobby bar this evening, listening to some classical music played by a trio of piano, violin and congas. An unusual combination but appreciated by the small audience. We retire early to our room to watch some trashy American TV - 'Fat Guys in the Woods' - genius.
Our last full day at Memories was spent in similar fashion, topping up our tans and looking forward to trying out the Italian restaurant. We were having an afternoon rest in our room when the phone rang. It was our rep informing us that Air France pilots are on strike and our flight tomorrow has been cancelled! Bloody typical, the times I've been on holiday having a wonderful time, not wanted to go home and wishing this would happen. The one time I'm desperate to leave 'et voila!'
The Italian restaurant lived up to it's dreadful reputation but at least it yielded a few comedy moments. There was a starter called 'atun de conejo' which literally translates as 'tuna of rabbit'! This confused us somewhat, so Ken asked if it was tuna or rabbit. 'Rabbit' said the waiter. 'OK I'll try that' said Ken. When it arrived it was a few tiny shreds of chicken. 'Is this chicken'? Ken asked the waiter. 'Yes chicken' he confirmed. 'But it says rabbit on the menu' Ken replied. 'It say tuna, but it's not that either' said the waiter . You couldn't make it up!
Next morning I met with our holiday rep in the lobby. She confirmed we would not be flying home this afternoon and so we'll be staying another night. When we return to our room after more tan topping up, there was a note to say we would be leaving tomorrow at 8.30 am - hooray!
No more restaurants to try out so we settle for the open buffet, where I watch one guy eat 2 half-litre tubs of ice-cream in about 5 minutes flat. I saw him again ten minutes later leaving the dining room with six more. Either this guy had brought his own freezer on holiday or he intended to eat the lot in the next half hour. We have an early start tomorrow so we have a couple of rum and cokes and retire early, hoping for one more episode of 'Fat Guys in the Woods'.
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