Wednesday. And despite the fact that my brain should be loving all this luxury, I feel pretty dreadful to be honest.
Not quite sure why really. I’m struggling to sleep properly anyway with the humidity of a night but even so, a wretched feeling washes over me. My mate goes down to breakfast, and I struggle to get out of bed, even to crawl to the bathroom to freshen up. What is wrong?
I eventually make it to breakfast and the wretched feeling subsides somewhat. I go out to the pool and relax there. Still trying to work out what is the matter today.
The wretched feeling comes and goes. We decide to go to a restaurant in the evening called The Cockerel. No, it’s not a haven for Tottenham Hotspur fans, although football was being shown on the tv in the sports bar next door.
If I eat a larger meal this year, then I want to be there. My mate ordered a steak pie, which by the size of it should have come with it’s own shovel. I had scampi, not your nugget type scampi we have in the UK, but king prawns in breadcrumbs. Fab. It took the pair of us a long while to eat the offerings, but that made me feel a lot better.
Then we retired to a local bar, where football was being shown (surprise, surprise) and downed a couple of late pints to send us back to the hotel happy. I certainly felt a lot happier after the appalling morning I had. Why am I trying to reason it out? Just relax and enjoy yourself Allen.