The only thing of any note today, other than my impressive languishing, was the most awful man I have ever had to listen to, sitting by the pool. He was in his late forties with a Cockney accent so thick it must have been fake, and he spoke at the top of his voice to a girl called Babe. He was consantly rude to her and disagreed with whatever she said (including the fact that it was Saturday), he demanded that the waiters run for everything, told anyone who couldn't help listening how much money he had or had spent, how much he hated England and why he hasn't been back there for sixteen years, had his music on far too loud and insited on singing along with it and prefixed every single word with an obscenity or the exclamation, "Are you maaaaad?!" like a character from a bad sitcom. It would have been funny if it wasn't so awful! He finally left, dragging Babe with him and we got some peace and quiet. Then a nice Danish family turned up and explained that until a child was eight years old, the government in Denmark allows up to three months a year for 'family time' and they'd spent that long with their children in India. What a great system!

We went for a bit of a walk again this evening and then came back for more supper and cards. We tried a vindaloo, the local speciality, and it was delicious, nothing like the tasteless, too-hot versions in so many restaurants in England. I really enjoyed it.