We leave central London and set off for Luton and the flight back to Gibraltar.
Lots of exciting things have happened during our five weeks absence - new bus shelters have sprung up like mushrooms all over
the town ...
... and Pizzaghetti in Irish Town has been renamed and is looking very posh. Bang go our 20% off vouchers - I thought it was too good to last.
In the morning HMS York disappears ... and in the late afternoon so do my girlfriend's braces. Suddenly she looks like a piano keyboard.
In the evening we go out to dinner in a Chinese restaurant in Puerto de la Dequesa with some lovely people. Unfortunately, it is pissing down with rain and as I rescue everybody from the rain I hit a hidden black bollard (see arrow). Darn.
In the evening, we return to Puerto de la Dequesa for dinner in the Mancunian Indian restaurant with
some more nice people - who point out to me that this diary seems to consist of nothing except us going out to
dinner. Ridiculous - we go out to lunch as well.
The lady in the ensemble also gives me much valuable advice on a variety of other topics. The concept of being the richest person in the graveyard being one of them - it seems that really smart people spend their last penny (so to speak), just as they kick the bucket. The problem is timing.
I know, I know - mixed metaphors.
The rain is relentless - it has pissed down none stop all week.
HMS Sabre is now afloat and hiding in Queensway Quay - it looks bigger close up.
This is the Canadian ship HMCS Charlottetown 339. It seems very arrogant just having a number written on the side - nothing
else, just 339.
The Little Rock in Casemates Square looks really magnificent but there are problems - everything we want to
eat is either on the lunch menu which they have stopped serving or on the dinner menu which they have not yet
See, this diary is not only about us eating dinner or even lunch but also about us attempting to eat tea. Unsuccessfully.