The Embraer E195 Jet Plane

My light went on at 0430. I couldn't believe it, but I leapt up and had my food and we left home in the dark. The motorway was empty and we parked in the faraway long-term car park at Southampton international Mega-hub and Spaceport.
We could see several propeller planes lined up on the cut-price tarmac waiting to fly to exotic destinations such as Jersey, Malaga and Leeds. The nice lady weighed our suitcases for us and we spent £18 on coffee and sandwiches and we watched some planes take off.
We had to open and ditch our bottles of water and fill them right back up again the other side of the X-ray machine. Eventually our gate was called and I swapped seats to be with Bud and we strapped ourselves in and took off!
It was epic and we could see the cricket ground and the Spinnaker Tower and Stokes Bay splashpark and our house and my ears didn't pop at all and we could see container ships and another plane 1000 feet above us and we raced each other over France way above the clouds. I enjoyed being a High Planes Drifter, aha.
I was quite bored by the landing but enjoyed getting to the luggage carousel before they'd started moving. Also I checked out the cockpit, the captain said it was like flying an X-Box. Our mini-bus transfer was slow and hot through the parched hinterland of orange rock and desiccated red earth.
We could see pines and olive orchards and prickly pear and palms. Finally we made it to tourist heaven and our hotel near the bottom corner of the island. Jof had to wait 30 angry minutes to check us in while a wizened Spaniard tried to sell Wi-Fi to a Scottish cretin.
She got even angrier when the room was small and I had to sleep on the sofa but they said tough poo, or pay £220 for an upgrade. We had much-required food from the buffet and got changed in our 1-bed cupboard for a swim.
There are 8 pools so we ignored the baby one and did some hard work in the one nearest our hovel. Then we abandoned Jof to her Stephen Fry novel and checked out the 2 long pools shaped like the Egyptian symbol for water.
We met the scuba divers practising in the pool and Bud got told off for doing chin-ups on the wooden bridge and we worked our way from one end to the other and back again. Then we tried the sea which has a tiny sandy bit full of seaweed and some rocks which were a challenge to stand on while being buffeted by waves.
We want to do the boat trip and do snorkelling. I took Jof to the 2 long pools and she bought me a watergun and I got into a watergun battle with some Germans. A lot of people here are called Rutger and Lotti.
Directions for shower: Pull big nob towards you, temperature is wildly variable and not related to the angle of your nob. The showerhead holder wilts so the shower points back down at the pipes that supply it so you end up standing too close and pushing the big nob back in again with your bum. Pull big nob towards you again. Repeat. The shower is OK but you have to play with your nob a lot.
Supper was an even more showy display of fine cuisine than lunch. OK, there was pizza, chips, crinkle-cut carrots and many other simple sops to the English palate but there were also mussels, paella, salted fish and sea samphire.
I pigged out and I think Jof's diet is out the window with that many sheep's cheeses on offer.
The evening entertainment was ebullient, nay, incandescent with 2 giant animated carrots (who may have been bananas) who led all the little kids in a conga line and gave them medals, not sure why. Some Germans on skateboards insisted that we took their picture even though there was no chance they'd ever see it.
Then all the fun stopped and my feet were tired. Jof wouldn't let me sleep on my own so the night was finished for her, particularly as the sound stage is right across the ravine from our block and the TV is in my bedroom (the sofa).
So while I was asleep and Jof was reading, the hotel entertainment division sang an ABBA medley of unprecedented proportions. The set changed a lot and the brightly dressed performers sang very well and one chap had impressively pneumatic boobies (during 'Dancing Queen', he tripped up over his own plastic boobs, causing much surreal merriment). Perhaps this is an integral part of the all-inclusive family package holiday that I have missed out on, but it's only day 1. Quite sweaty.