17 October 2012

9.05am
With David being ill, it's almost like I'm getting too much sleep so I bounced out of bed this morning ready to go find my breakfast. I forgot he can't leave the room until his "internal clock" says he can, so not even a coffee for me yet.

I even dreamed about Starbucks last night. That's just sad, but it left me craving coffee.

Hot stone massages are booked for 10am!

9.41am
Breakfast alone again. *sigh* I didn't want to eat immediately before being massaged.

There are a lot of sparrows zipping about in the dining room this morning, chasing each other and chirping away like naughty children. I'm keeping an eye out to make sure they aren't naughty by dropping something in my coffee!

Ahhhh here comes my beloved, at last! He obviously needs caffeine because when I said hello, his response was, "Where do you get the coffee?"

11.56am
Ok, awake now.

The hot stone massage was incredible! The therapist was the same Oriental girl who gave me the peel and foam massage in the Turkish bath yesterday. She is so tiny and the massage table was so high she had to climb up on it and sit on me to massage my back, which almost made me giggle! She's such a sweetie though.

I have only ever had a neck, back and shoulders hot stone massage in the past. This was a full body massage and I can see someone very uptight being freaked out by the experience. I've had four kids. Modesty went out the window years ago and there was absolutely nothing wrong with the fantastic massage I had today. But I am immature enough to have wanted to giggle.

This is the first chance I've had to go online since last night so I've been able to catch up on the news. "Binders full of women". Classic!

Also in the news, Starbucks (my guilty pleasure) is in the dog house for not paying tax in the UK. I pay tax on what I earn and so should they. I will have to scout out an alternative coffee house in Birmingham when I get back. Gutted though. I still have £4 on my pre-paid card.

3.20pm
An hour and a half in the sun by the pool, and I feel like a roasted chicken. After the first 25 minutes David disappeared to have his hair cut and I continued sunbathing (with my high factor sunscreen) but I gave up a few minutes ago, grabbed David's gadgets left by his lounger and headed to the bar to rehydrate.



I tried to get a picture of Spider-Man climbing a tree but it was too late. I'm not sure if I wanted the picture to prove he was really there rather than a heat-induced hallucination. I wasn't so bothered about the blue rabbit by the pool.

8.22pm
Rested and rehydrated!

When I went back to my lounger, after gulping two big glasses of cherry juice, David was there wandering where I was. His haircut looks very nice, and apparently he bought a pot of mud. I think it's the same seaweed and clay facial masque I had used on me yesterday, only now we own a whole pot of it.

I wonder if I can get Ricky and Jack to use it. I think they'd like the idea of covering their faces in mud. It's supposed to be good for clearing teenage complexions.

Nothing of note to write about today, really. Even people watching has been a bit uneventful. But the food has been excellent. I just finished eating my baklava!




The main restaurant is buffet style and, being all inclusive, is obviously all-you-can-eat. My goodness, people talk about American sized portions but I'm willing to bet I'm the only American here, and the amount of food people pile on their plates is incredible! By comparison, I'm a lightweight, both in the amount of food I take and the size of my person.

There are a lot of Germans and Russians staying here, which is cool. For standards, if you can't stay in a hotel full of Americans, stay where there are a lot of Germans. They want quality and aren't afraid to ask for it.

The Russians are just interesting to watch. I think they beat the reputation Germans have of claiming loungers with their towels and disappearing hands down. I think it's just competition between Germans and Russians for territory around the pool personally. Nothing political, just holiday territory.

The British come in two types: the polite, don't want to complain people, like David and me (the dead mouse was obviously an exception), and the loud and pushy chavs.

The chavs don't tend to go all-inclusive resorts unless it's with their families, so that isn't too bad. We have stayed in some hotels with lots of chavs on boys' weekends, hen parties, etc. Very frightening!