Liam and I are taking a welcome break: a week or so in the stroller’s city of Palma de Mallorca. I intend to leave the hinterweb alone for the duration, soak up the shade and take in the vibe. We’ve bagged ourselves a bijou boutique hotel overlooking the smart marina and spitting distance from the posh shops and fancy bars. Why Spain? It needs all the help it can get. Had we known what was about to go down in our former foster home when we booked our Iberian getaway, we would be Turkey-bound instead. Too late now, unfortunately. I’ll be reporting on our island misadventures when we return (assuming there are any to report). In the meantime, Perking the Pansies will be off the air. No need to fret. It’s June. We all need to get out more.
My brother is in Majorca sitting on a sunny hotel balcony sipping cool white wine wearing shorts and a tee shirt. We’re huddled in front of an electric fire in slippers and zippy tops. Last month’s electric bill was 480 lira (£180). Yes that’s right. Four hundred and eighty. We don’t expect this month’s bill to be much lower. We thought grumpy Mother Nature had flicked on the spring switch a couple of weeks ago. It seems the perfidious old bag has switched it off again. Still, the flowers are nice.
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