Northants girl in Mallorca

Working at La Marina was definitely a step up from El Molino. For starters, we were allowed to drink whatever we wanted when we wanted (with the obvious exception of alcohol, and even that was up for grabs once we had packed up the restaurant every evening). Now this comes in very handy when you are... Sign in to see full entry.

As you might have surmised from my previous account of Manolo’s guitar playing, music was destined to form quite an important part of our relationship and he had soon begun to initiate me into some of the more traditional Spanish styles. Being a gypsy, Flamenco was his first love, although I found... Sign in to see full entry.

I became acquainted with these during the two months I spent alone in Puerto Alcú dia. Usually filmed and produced in Latin American countries, Venezuela being a popular creator of such series, they were the televised equivalent of the least credible of the Mills and Boon genre. And I loved them.... Sign in to see full entry.

I was shocked when I realised just how much Spanish I had lost during my two months in the UK. I had sort of imagined that once you had learnt a language to a certain level, it would stay with you for ever; it was quite a disappointment to find out that this was not the case. Never mind. I could not... Sign in to see full entry.

This next account should serve as a salutary warning to innocent, and perhaps not so innocent, young British (and other) girls abroad. One evening, as was my wont before I had found employment, I went out to eat in one of the many restaurants along the main street, when a rather attractive waiter... Sign in to see full entry.

A week before our planned departure - Manolo to Granada, me back to the UK - I had a much longed for visit from my darling mother. It was now early November, and we hadn’t seen each other since the end of April, so it was a very happy little reunion that took place, witnessed by Manolo, in Palma’s... Sign in to see full entry.

Manolo and I moved again, and not before time. The only negative point was that Smokey and Tiger couldn’t join us in our new home. Pets most definitely NOT allowed. An adoptive family was found for them and a few tears were shed, but they never did like us so I should imagine that they were much... Sign in to see full entry.

When I moved to Mallorca, I was told that I would have to have a ‘residencia’ – a permit of residence. It seemed a pleasingly simple process: all that was required by the authorities was a copy of my passport, three photographs, a contract of employment and a fixed address; all of which I had.... Sign in to see full entry.

My love of all things Spanish was sorely tested when I began to be eaten alive by mosquitoes. After the first onslaught, news got round the mosquito world that a walking, talking, scratching and slapping restaurant, was in town, and they all descended with shrill shrieks of delight - my shrill... Sign in to see full entry.

The Spanish shout a lot, as I discovered. It isn’t always angry shouting as I had originally thought, but it is still rather unnecessary. Nevertheless, as far as work was concerned, providing you always moved at a steady jog through the restaurant, you were assumed to be pulling your weight, and... Sign in to see full entry.