The day has followed a very familiar pattern. We grabbed breakfast, returned to our room to change for the beach and put on some sunscreen, then headed down to the east beach. On the way we passed a couple from Cumbria that we had spoken with last night. He and the Gorse Fox said hi! and exchanged the usual pleasantries. The Silver Vixen stopped to chat with her.
Jermaine, the entertainments chap, came and joined us. Nobody was interested in 'bocce ball' so he sat down on a lounger and chatted about soccer for a while. He was very knowledgeable and, indeed, had been a professional footballer in Venezuela in his younger days.
A white sangria was ordered. This meant that the Gorse Fox had to alert the emergency services. You can never be quite sure what the effect might be. As it happens no animals were harmed, the local police did not have to get involved, and no locksmiths were called out. We made our way to lunch as thunder started to crack across the sky. It didn't rain, but it was enough to send some people scurrying from the beach. After lunch we returned to our loungers on the almost deserted beach. The Silver Vixen read her book, and the Gorse Fox read the news before he hit the sea.
Swimming was a little strange. The sea was as smooth as a sheet of glass but the top inch of water was chilly. Beneath that cool layer however it was lovely and warm. The Gorse Fox just made the most of the empty bay and swam around lazily for a while.
Back on the loungers the Silver Vixen had got talking to the two young girls from Surrey so the beach butler, in despair of interrupting for an order, sat down with the Gorse Fox to talk about technology and the use and programming of CGI.
Back in the room we are all set for an evening of cool jazz and a meal in Papillon.