Chapter 52 — Holiday in Majorca

The autumn of 2010 arrived and with it half-term, and we set off for a short holiday in Ca’n Picafort, Majorca. John moved into the family home to look after the dogs and cats and everything was wonderful. We’d booked two rooms at the Iberostar Hotel in San Baolo, which was all-star. We’d never gone all-star before, but we didn’t like it; having to be there when they served dinner, having to be there when they served tea, or having to be there when they served breakfast. We ate there for the first couple of days, but after that we didn’t, as we much preferred dining out at different venues.

They have a wonderful beach in San Baolo, and the waves can get reasonably high, which happened on one occasion when the lifeguard on duty raised the amber flag. I’d been for a run, and when running back home, I noticed how lively the sea was. I wouldn’t class myself as a strong swimmer but a reasonable one. I love being tossed around by an angry sea, but only in so far as I know the beach isn’t that far away and safety is within reach. I ran off back to the hotel and within a half hour or so, we were back at the beach.

Anna wasn’t a swimmer, and she only tip-toed in the edges of the water. Alex could swim, and he ventured out a little and let the waves crash him back in, which he loved. I decided to grab the lilo we had and made my way past the breaking waves and out to where the waves were still yet full and unbroken. I can remember lying on the great swell of sea and being raised up and down in the billowing troughs. It was almost mesmeric and hypnotic too, as you feel the paradox of being completely separated from people, but you can still hear the screams and shouts of them from afar through the sounds of the sea.

I must have laid there for a good ten minutes, aimlessly gazing up at the great vault of blue sky above when I became conscious that I could no longer hear the cacophony of people, only the sound of a screeching whistle which, I learned afterwards, was being blown by the lifeguard. It only took another second to realise that the lilo was being tossed around a bit too viciously, and it was then I looked up and saw before me a mass of rock with the waves crashing against it.

***

In times of great emergency, or great danger, one can be either incredibly stupid or incredibly creative; as a deep thinking chess player, I chose the former, and I started with utmost ferocity to paddle away from the rocks while still lying on the air-filled lilo. The angry sea, though, was having none of it, and the more I paddled, the more the waves flung the air-filled lilo back towards the jagged rocks.

Another bout of quick thinking was necessary, but there was only one option: the lilo had to go. I flung myself off the lilo, and with all my might I started to swim against the strength of the sea. At one point, I’m sure I felt a rock touch my toe, but that only spurred me on, and I swam with every conceivable atom of energy I possessed. My heart was pounding, and I could feel it crashing against the sides of my ribs. If I hadn’t been fit from running, I’m sure I would have had a heart attack there and then in the thrashing waters.

Gradually, the waves felt a little calmer, and I finally felt the beach beneath my feet. I didn’t walk out of the water, but crawled out of it and lay totally spent on the sand with my head buried in it, gasping for breath. The lifeguard stood above me screaming and waving his arms, but I wasn’t listening and still struggling to breathe properly. I must have lain on that beach ten minutes before finally getting to my feet and heading back to Anna.

‘What’s up with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Come on, anyway, I fancy a drink. Alex, get your stuff, we’re off. Where’s the lilo?’

***

During the early part of our holiday, Anna complained of some type of muscular seizure in the back of her neck and chest. We would normally go for a long walk by the side of the sea, but on this morning, she asked if I didn’t mind going alone, as her neck was hurting. I said I didn’t and left the hotel. I returned some time later, and Alex was in the room with a game.

‘Where’s your mam?’

‘She’s having a lie down.’

I went in, and Anna was indeed in bed.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked.

Anna related how the pain had increased, and the painkillers she’d taken earlier were not really having that much of an effect. I asked her to get dressed, and we’d go see a doctor.

At the doctor’s we waited, and after a short while we were asked to go into a room, where the doctor was sat at his desk. Anna related the problem, and he asked her to remove her top, so he could examine the complaint. I sat in the chair and watched. Anna was now fifty, and I noticed she’d begun to look a little thin. I hadn’t really noticed before. Anna was a well-figured, buxom woman, but as she stood there that day being examined by the doctor, her loss of weight was noticeable. I put it down to age and thought no more about it.

The doctor concluded his examination and prescribed some strong painkillers for a pulled muscle. The painkillers worked, and within a day or two, Anna was back to her bubbly self.