We awake after a good nights sleep with quizzical expressions late the next morning at 11.30 to the sound of a screaming paramotor (sorry, I’m a big believer in freedom of choice and know they are fellow pilots but I can’t stand those things), a generator and find all and sundry have moved into our bedroom with pagodas, picnics and the like without so much as a bye or leave. About 30 people are loafing close by. They have probably started a book on who out of the three of us will wake up first. I am absolutely roasting in my sleeping bag by this time of day and far too Spanish by now to be concerned by this turn of events, so I stand up and with a huge yawn, stretch, adjust my scrotum and go for a swim in the lake to freshen up.
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