Day 8 (Sunday) – After a long lie in, a large glass of water and a quick tidy up (mainly my clothes that were scattered throughout the villa), we choose to eat breakfast out this morning. We all agree that this well-placed villa has been a fantastic base to not only reach the airport, watch yachts, discover the island, visit the capital, but its location to many Menorcan eateries has been a huge bonus. A wander inland doesn’t reveal much by way of historic culture but it was good to see the resident’s way of living: washing on balcony’s, dogs barking, local corner shops that we wish we discovered sooner and parks bustling with laughter and fun. We notice far less rubbish than the UK streets but far more dog-crap. It seems to be accepted for some reason. We walk keeping our gaze downwards missing out on local life above us. Let’s head back to the water where its less strain on our necks.
A taxi is phoned at 12 as we have a booking at a vineyard Bodegas Binifadet (as recommended by a regular attendee) The tour lasts an hour and our knowledgeable and enthusiastic host fuels our appetites for the wine tasting. Lunch is served and the table is momentarily quiet while we all taste our ordered dish. Nods of approval all round, a few ‘oh my god’s’ then a sip of wine to punctuate the process. Then comes the sharing and questioning ‘what did you order’, ‘could I try some’ and ‘that looks amazing’ gets under way. We try to be elegant and sophisticated but hunger and flailing sharing arms don’t really allow this illusion. Lunch is devoured, the bread and olives long gone (I’m sure a steadfast, former olive hater is getting a taste for these) Deserts are ordered. More wine is requested… Another hour is spent wandering the grounds and we consider walking the one-hour journey home. A taxi is phoned… A few of us take part in a late-night swim and we watch the boats from the pool. Although we have the near perfect, peaceful location, I contemplate exchanging a sea view over my Scottish view of the Campsie hills. It’s close but the Campsies win. Someone has decided to skinny dip. I threaten to take a picture and leave the poolside to get my camera but decide to make a tea instead. I don’t know why I’m surprised but Scottish Blend tastes great in Spanish water… The skinny-dipper is still in the water and I bring her coffee and a towel and leave her to her wish list ticking.