Day 9 (Monday) – We waken and one by one, congregating by the pool with teas and coffees as we have done for the last few mornings. We’re all just getting into the holiday and appreciating everyone’s quirks and idiosyncrasies, but this morning it’s different: there’s an atmosphere in the air. The holiday is over and it’s over too soon. Things seem forced. Over-politeness develops, everyone’s smile is unnatural and our voices are chirpily high.
However, I don’t feel the need to streak again...
We’ve made and strengthened friendships and we promise to meet regularly as a group, but as we’ve travelled from all over with one coming from California, 7 from Scotland and 4 from England, would that be practical? However, we unanimously agree that we really need to return next year as we didn’t explore Ciutadella thoroughly enough and there’s so much of Mahon that was undiscovered. And Son Bou beach, we really needed a full day there and I’d like to spend more time with the tortoises, but most importantly, how will we survive not knowing what our neighbours across the bay do in the evenings? The London-4 and the Glasgow-8 quietly make our way to the airport; our flights are only 10 minutes apart. Duty Free stop first and the gin is on special offer. Three bottles for the price of two? It would be rude not too. One sister says she has no space in her case to carry a bottle. I tell her I threw her jumpsuit away so she should have space. We laugh. She checks to see if I’m joking… We discuss the highlights of our Menorcan trip, agree to share pictures via the group page and at check in, agree it’s been a blast. We hug a hundred hugs and go our separate ways. Fast forward 2021 – Alas, we will be down one lovely lassie who can’t make it but we have a surprise attendee. The temptation of this fictional tale was just too much for one person and although she couldn’t commit to coming this year, cousin Sarah ‘fae up north’ will be abandoning her children, pets and café and will be joining in our gathering next year. Yippee! Sarah is far more mischievous than I could ever dream of being so next year’s diary will be far more entertaining.... Thanks muchly to all who helped; Kira, the glamorous photographer & stylist, Pete, the tattooed masseur and Jack, the waiter’s pouring hand (he refused to commit to more). But most of all, I’d like to thank my aged bikini tops who, although under extreme pressure, held up considerably and kept it together til the very end. Just… Thank you for humouring me and my imaginary adventure folks, I have enjoyed taking this trip and I’m not sad at all. If anything, I’m even more excited for next year. And next time, when it’s a real live holiday, I just might not bring so much vegan mayonnaise…