Mis niñas.

To mark my re-birthday (as I call my cheating death 6 years ago), #1D and #2D and I took a boat trip around Mahon harbour with a stop-off at the old military hospital on the Isla del Rei. I was feeling especially freaky and hypersensitive today and soon regretted my choice of outing, as they both felt (but luckily weren't) seasick, and looked underwhelmed at the half-derelict buildings and dusty exhibits. The last time I was there it seemed a lot more impressive, but fundraising has been happening to preserve it, and JCBs and workmen are everywhere, slowly restoring it - a huge job. The elderly guy in charge, possessor of an impressive moustache, much self-importance and (allegedly) absolutely no English, forbade us to wander about on our own and directed us to join the tour group. I wasn't falling for that one after my last visit, remembering being crammed in one mildewed room after another with 50 tourists, being treated to the history of the place, in catalan, and unable to see anything at all, so we pretended to obey but then went off-piste, looking at the pictures and models, wards, operating and autopsy rooms, pharmacy and military chapel unhindered. We even explored the really derelict outer buildings, though carefully as the ceilings were falling in, so my love of grungy stuff was satisfied at least. #1D is always game for a picture (see extras), but #2D was less willing, despite looking, to my mind, stunning with her Daenerys Targaryen-style hair and becoming golden tan. Back in port I led them to the lovely little boutique-hotel in a hidden part of town, where I spent a happy time with #2S last week, and wanted to show them the lovely open courtyard dining area under the orange trees. Sadly we were 5 minutes too late for even a cup of coffee. Have you noticed how the best times often happen by chance, and when you plan them, or try to recreate them, it doesn't quite pan out? Luckily #1D suggested going to the fishmarket for tapas and a drink, as neither of them had eaten breakfast (fearing the boat trip's possible effects). It was packed, hot and noisy of course, a nice atmosphere and lovely food as always, but I was feeling very low by then and hardly ate anything. The girls however seemed happier and assured me they had enjoyed themselves despite my thinking otherwise. On the way back to the car, stopped for a frozen yoghurt and a sit down, where I learned upsetting news which apparently I'd been sent by email - the sender having sent it to an incorrect address. At time of writing (2 days later) I still haven't received a replacement email. Great timing I thought. Last day of holiday for the family, and they were going out for a last evening meal to which I was invited, but decided to not go as I was feeling so out of it, and didn't want to be a spectre at the  feast. It was lovely to spend time with just the girls though, even if it was mentally the worst August 17th I've had for some years.
Devastating news of Barcelona today too....