EIVISSA - a retrospective diary - day 1

Leaving work for a long holiday is always madness, but thankfully, this time round, it aint. Already packed last night - overpacked as usual - and seems like the to do list for work is under control - well, enough for me to make a hasty exit, waving goodbye to the poor folk still slaving away at their computers. Oh well, can't be helped - there's a party island waiting in southern Spain and someone has to do it!

Luton airport is a tit to get to, takes forever on the train, and then that little pissy bus from the station is so annoying - too excited for all this fluffing about. More fluffing about ensues though - after checking in, passport control, popcorn from Pret, the departures board tries to sneak past the fact that the flight is now delayed by 90 minutes. Ten thirty departure. I do the quick maths for our arrival in Ibiza and come up on the wrong side of midnight.

Flight is fine though, once we get on board, nothing too bumpy, but it's a long un - 2 1/2 hours. Kath got the exit seats using her Speedy Boarding privileges and I'm happy for that. Original plans of going out tonight in Eivissa Town have been scuppered, but not to worry - plenty of good times ahead.

Mona, the agent who looks after the villa we are staying at, is waiting for us at Ibiza airport to lead us to our abode. It's 1 am but she is still very cheerful. Car rental chick less so, obviously well past her siesta. We have our own issues though - prospect of driving on wrong side of the road in the middle of the night is a bit daunting, but I'm up for it - car's an automatic, ordered online, so no problems there.

Jump in the driver's seat of the hire car and wonder what the hell is that thing sticking out between the seats. Ah. It's the gear stick. Manual; not automatic. Great. Last time I drove a stick was in Scotland, 2004. Kath's last time was in Norway last NY, drove in snow and sleet and slippery roads. Kath - you're up.

We follow Mona and her husband along a speedy freeway that cuts through the lower part of the island, then onto smaller roads, then into the hills, weaving in and out of dense forest. Traffic is minimal which helps; driving on the right (wrong) side of the road in a manual doesn't. Kath does very well. I try and take note of the lefts and rights that we negotiate so I can navigate our way out tomorrow, but lose track when we hit the Nascar section of the island - chicanes, hard rights, easy lefts - and the thick darkness around us makes spotting landmarks for reference purposes impossible.

A rev up a steep incline disguising itself as a driveway and we arrive at the villa - a three bedroom house set into the side of a hill overlooking Cala San Vincente - a nice little beach with only a few high rise hotels to spoil the view. A map found in the hire car tells us we are at the furthest north east point of the island.

Mona shows us the ins and outs of our Spanish Palace; throws in a baguette, some ham and cheese for tomorrow's breakfast at the crescendo. We wave her goodbye, adios, and gracias and take stock. The place is empty at the moment, with the other inhabitants arriving over the next few days, so before bed, we enjoy the exclusivity of the pad, sitting in cane chairs on the outside terrace, sipping hot drinks and staring out into the star filled sky, thinking - we've finally made it!!!

Bed time: 3 am.

update on the world of doing not much

I'm writing this update in between tasks at work, which is quite fitting given the last seven months of my life. In fact, if I write this blog entry at the same words-written-in-novel to hours-spent-on-day-job ratio, I should finish it in about three weeks time.

Yes, I've been busy at work and I've been neglecting the book. Work pays better, but sucks out both time and creative juices by the bucket load. The book gets a look in on very rare occasions, like a parent in an old folks home. As with the neglected parents, guilt builds up every moment I'm not attending to the book's needs and wants. But the job that pays my salary and allows me to enjoy cereal for dinner when I get home from work at ten at night has to take precedence. Here endeth the excuse.

"So does that mean the novel isn't finished yet?" I hear you ask in a frustrated tone and with a clenched fist. Well, yer, it ain't finished. Not far off, but still plenty to do. Currently working through the second draft which requires a full rewrite of the first 5 chapters - after that, things should move more quickly. My aim for publication by 2015 is still on track.

P.S. My parents are not in an old folks home; in fact, they are more likely to be in a campervan, travelling across the Aussie outback!

just finished reading . . .

This is the first Dan Fesperman novel I have read and the verdict is: I like his work! The Amateur Spy is a great read set predominantly in Jordan, not the safest place for an American ex-aid worker who has been blackmailed to dig around an old friend's fund raising business in search for possible terrorist connections.

Mr Fesperman weaves an intricate tale taking the reader to many interesting places including Ramadan in Jordan, violence in the Bekaa Valley, shady dealings in Jerusalem, and a politician's demise in Washington D.C.

I definitely enjoyed the read, but I also think Dan has better novels in him, which is an exciting prospect - and with novels such as The Prisoner of Guantánamo, The Warlord's Son and his new one, The Arms Maker of Berlin, I am looking forward to the prospect of sitting down to another Dan Fesperman modern thriller sometime soon.

three more to the pile

Courtesy of a Waterstones Gift Voucher and a handy bit of internet shopping, the following books landed at my front door last night:

The TBR pile is growing and growing - good for two years worth of reading now - at least!

game for Gaiman

I've been quite keen to experience anything - comics, books, movies - that has materialised out of the mind of Neil Gaiman. So far, I have only managed a ten minute short on Sky 1 about statues which he directed. I missed Coraline and haven't managed to delve into the back issues of Sandman. I was reading his blog for sometime but that also lasped. It looked like as long as I didn't make a concerted effort, the world of Neil Gaiman would forever elude me.

Then, this morning, a work colleague, keen to offload as many of his books as possible before moving his life from Edinburgh to London, gave me these three to read:






I am delighted and can not wait! Now, I just need to find a place for them in the pecking order of the other 40 books in my to be read pile. Not an easy task at all!

P.S. Yes, I'm avoiding the obvious topics of my writing and absence from this blog - let's just say they have both taken a back seat to less exciting but more profitable ventures (i.e. the day job).