Rule one - no bombing or horseplay.
Rule two - any towels left on loungers for more than 15 minutes will be removed by the lifeguards.
Please note this pool is not supervised. There are no lifeguards.
Holidays can be confusing, right ?
First of all you are somewhere strange so it takes time to work out where everything is. By the time you do that, it's time to leave again.
Today we tried to hire a car for a couple of days. Cars from 23 Euros it said on the web site but the only ones available were 79 Euros and the intelligent ones amongst you will realise that 79 is over three times more than 23.
But can't complain. It's 23 degrees here and nine back home and at least we didn't have to subject ourselves to the pile of poo masquerading as football that Norwich City is serving up at the moment. Today's game was against Sheffield United.
With one team looking to reach the play offs and the other looking for automatic promotion, it should have been an exciting game of cut and thrust football. But it appears to be anything but. There wasn't a single shot on target from either side in the first half and just one from each side in the second. This is absolutely beyond my understanding.
But back to the holiday. Who suffers from holidayitis?
Holidayitis is that feeling when you go away and feel totally washed out for a few days as you begin to unwind. Holidayitis isn't helped by all the stress and hassle involved in catching planes and getting to your destination.
The day after I arrive I find myself wiped out and sleeping most of the time. Usually this feeling of tiredness is overcome eventually.
This is a long holiday for us. In total from start to finish we will be away from home for 25 or 26 days- almost a month. I'm not sure we have ever had a holiday lasting that long. But at least it keeps us away from the football. The difference in the number of days is because I'm not sure whether going into half an hour of a new day should be counted as a full day.
We are currently staying in a Holiday Property Bond complex at Alfaix which is in the mountains but near the sea in Spain. The closest largish town is Almeria which I usually mispronounce. It should be Al Maria.
The area is arid and very dry. There's a river close to our property but it is completely devoid of water. The complex has three swimming pools, two tennis courts, a clubhouse with pool tables, a paddle tennis court, petanque piste and crazy golf. I haven't been for a swim yet as the water just looked too cold - although it might keep me awake.
This is a tiny place. HPB owns most of the property although there's an English run Mini Mart and a local restaurant which was showing football and where we are in the evening. They have a happy hour from 4 until 6.30 which is actually a happy two and a half hours although some of the people there didn't look all that happy anyway.
These little places seem to be a world within a world.
"Can we hire a car from here," we enquired due to the fact there was a sign for Alfaix Auto Hire on the wall.
"He's the car hire," we were told by a waiter who pointed at the guy propping the bar up
This turned out to be Cameron who was wearing a Clash T Shirt. That's Clash as in the rock band. I commented on this.
"My other one's a Sex Pistols, " he replied. I'm not sure if I was more surprised that Cameron was an old rocker or that he obviously only owned two t shirts.
Anyway the deadly deed was done and we now have a car to drive round in from Tuesday until Thursday. Cameron was extremely helpful and is giving us a virtually new Volkswagen Polo Automatic. Has he seen my driving abroad?
Never did find out their definition of horseplay or bombing for that matter.