entry 22 - 27th November 01
Really crap hotel, no water in the pool, weather completely shit - drizzly and cold - and insult to injury Brendan's in the very next room... and we've got adjoining balconies. He keeps climbing over.
He's just gone, in fact. He wanted me to walk into the town with him, to see where the action was.
"I don't think there IS any action," I said.
"We'll MAKE some bloody action, mate," he replied.
"Let's go for a bloody ride mate,"
What he's failed to appreciate is that this island is smaller than the Isle of Wight, with about a hundredth of the population... and everyone is probably everyone else's cousin, including the filth.
Oh well, at least it's something to do.
Oh and we also know whose car it was, too: as we pulled away from the hotel a couple of Greek blokes tried to grab hold of it, shouting at Brendan through my window...
"That is Rocco's car," they said.
What amazes me is that we weren't stopped anywhere else on the island - either by the cops, or by Rocco, or by any of Rocco's mates.
Still, not only did we get away with it, we also picked up a couple of girls - Japanese ones. They hardly spoke any English, but we did somehow manage to arrange to meet them the day after tomorrow, on the beach nearest to our hotel. Or at least I think we managed to arrange it. We'll find out on Tuesday I suppose.