Las Puertas del Cielo

The Gates of Heaven to you and me. Marli and I were out and about this morning around the Cala Salada, Ses Fontanelles and Santa Ines areas. It was a great day for walking, sunny with a fresh breeze so we never worked a sweat up.

I'll let the photos do the talking................

We found this Christmas tree - full of little decorations hanging from its branches - in the woods by the roadside. Marli has a penchant for chewing pine cones but I didn't let her get her chops round these.

Then on past some typical Ibby houses, this one has an enormous lavender garden.

Carrying on, we soon arrived at taxi driver Jordi's bar which sits atop massive vertiginous cliffs with nothing stopping the view to the mainland (though we couldn't see it today) The smell of food was enticing enough for me, so goodness knows how Marli felt with her appetite whetted by delicious pine cones.

That delicious looking Asadura is a lamb's offal fry up - everything goes in, heart, liver, lungs - so vegetarians beware. Anyway, why is Jordi's bar known as The Gates of Heaven?

Because this is the view

On our way home we came across someone who obviously couldn't wait to get there..........

Thankfully I had my 'CarCam' mounted on the bonnet to capture the moment!

Strictly Come Boxing

If only the outcome of last night's Hatton fight had been decided in the same way as my favourite TV programme Strictly Come Dancing.

A viewers' vote would have ensured that Hatton had won by a mile. Let's face it, dancing prowess is the last thing you need to win strictly..............

Take rugby player Kenny Logan. That lad couldn't pass, never made a one tackle and made more yardage on the dancefloor than ever he did playing for Wasps or Scotland (where most of it was running from one side of the field to the other.) However, he was blessed with a big goofy grin and a kilt, and so lasted for weeks after others who also couldn't pass or tackle (eg his wife) were sent packing!

Odds and Blogs

When this Space Face thing catches on like wildfire (and it will) I've no doubt that certain people will claim a tenuous friendship with us just because it's trendy.

I can already see the following zany faced voguers (unfashionably going out for the evening) appearing worldwide with the caption 'ooh, you've got me skin,' emblazoned across the bottom.

Ooh, you've got my skin

In other news this week we celebrated the 29th anniversary of freedom and democracy in Spain with a national holiday. Ironically, it was the very day when the only freedom of choice we had was what time to get up, because as usual, nothing was open!

I tell a lie, because pretty well every bar and restaurant in Ibiza was open, so that you could roll out of bed, eat and drink for several hours and then roll back into it, safe in the knowledge that tomorrow, Sunday, will be Groundhog day.

At El Yate (at the end of the port in San Antonio) you could have had fish soup, bbq mixed grill and greixonera (a kind of aniseedy bread and butter pudding) for €15 and then had me following you home as you weaved all over the road trying to put your seatbelt on, smoke, talk on your mobile and drive. Drunks, know your limits, don't bother with the seatbelts, your head will break your fall.

On the subject of doing nothing, one of master builder Steve Taylor's workforce spent the siesta period the other day doing big fat zilch. Nothing unusual about that, we are in Spain, the problem was that Vicent, the San Jose village idiot whose job is to lock the toilets for siesta so nobody can use them, neglected to ascertain that the loos were free of plumbers, electricians or other general labourers before turning the key. And hey presto - oh dear what can the matter be? at least he wasn't there from Monday to Saturday!

And finally a plea from a fellow journalist and Space Facer Dave Lol

'Please, please, please, buy my books.'