And now the end is near and so I face that final curtain. Well, not exactly the final curtain but the swishing of the hotel door as we head home to Old Blighty. Just one more night – have you had enough ear worms, yet? – and we’ll be leaving on a jet plane. As John Denver put it, “Don’t know when I’ll be back again, but babe I hate to go”? No, not really. While not wishing the rest of this year’s sojourn to the Mediterranean to rush to an end, I’m ready to go home.
Formentera has been lovely. We’ve been out and about on this little island but mostly we’ve passed the time loafing around the Hotel Playa Migorn. The pool area is spacious, our room is great, with the promised sea view, and the half board perfectly acceptable for even the fussiest eater (me).
We first came to Formentera in 2003, on a day trip from Ibiza. One day, when the children have grown up, we will come back here, we promised, and so we did. We both wanted, and my partner who has not had the easiest year needed, A Break. Of course, we would get some exercise through walking and swimming, but this was very much a recharging of the batteries.
I have barely stopped reading and after nine nights I have worked my way through four books. In order, they were:
- TV Reviews by Victor Lewis-Smith
- The Full English by Stuart Maconie
- Rolf Harris: The Defence Team’s Special Investigator reveals the Truth behind the Trials by William Merrett
- The 007 Diaries: Filming Live and Let Die by Roger Moore and David Hedison
I’ll bet you’re fascinated to learn that sort of detail. All I can add is that Victor Lewis-Smith’s TV Reviews is the best collection of TV reviews ever by anyone, and I include Clive James’s TV reviews in that list. Maconie brilliantly retraces the steps of JB Priestley’s English Journey in 1933. I now believe Rolf Harris was fitted up by the police as part of Operation Yewtree. Roger Moore is a very funny companion. Quite an eclectic mix, I am sure you will agree. In terms of mental health, two of the three Rs, of which only two begin with R, only arithmetic has not been a useful antidepressant so far.
The thing to note about this part of the Balearics is that it’s not a cheap place to be. As the hotel receptionist put it – and I think I wrote this elsewhere – the local buses are free but everything else is expensive. The sun beds by the pool are ‘free’ but the beds by the beach, which are literally beds, cost a little more. For just €60, you can hire one for a whole day, including two miniature bottles of cava and two fresh fruit brochettes, whatever they are. However, the luxury option will provide you with a bottle of Veuve Cliquot, a selection of gourmet canapés and 20 minutes of massage for two people – all for a trifling €245. Granted, these are luxury add-ons to a mid range hotel but nothing is cheap here. In this part of the Balaerics, maybe it never was.
I don’t know if my ‘ready for home’ feeling is typical for everyone but it’s usually right for me. I love going to other countries but I love being home, too, especially with the weather at home being hotter than it is here. As I lurch into old age, that’s not something that bothers me at all.
