Elizabeth y Dave.

This septuagenarian couple are friends and neighbours at our previous home in the village, and frequent visitors to the island. Today they helped us out by witnessing our signatures on an application document, for which we had to drive to Ciudadella on the far end of the island for various bureaucratic barely-comprehensible reasons. They love their paper forms and triple-stamping stuff here, not made any easier by the Brexsh*t shambles. Dave has been here a month, but Elizabeth should have flown over on Monday, and could not reach the airport as her part of Scotland was underwater and there were no buses or trains running. Instead she started her journey yesterday midday, got the various forms of transport to the airport some hours later, and finally a flight to Barcelona (there are no direct flights to here) landing at midnight. After spending 7 hours in the airport on hard unfriendly seating, she got the first shuttle to the island - another hour. By 9am she was at her apartment - we had to pick them up by 10. An hour's drive to Cuidadella, a bit of paperwork, and much hilarity from the solicitor and passers-by regarding Dave's attire. She asked him the question everyone asks a Scotsman in a kilt, and, as one, we all shouted "no!" as he went to lift it. Quite a character is old Dave. To celebrate him behaving, we had a very late cooked breakfast in Arenal, and E went home for a much needed siesta. I don't think I could have stayed awake so long and still be standing and lucid, but they make them of sterner stuff in the far North. The picture, with Dave in his skirt and handbag, is of them standing by our garden gate.