This October half term the wife and I decided to drag the three kids off for some fun in the sun away from the dreary weather in England. Well as long as the weather in England decides to oblige and doesn’t provide a late October heat wave for everyone back home as it apparently did! As they say you just can’t trust the weather in England or the Royal Mail for that matter. Well at least the weather in Menorca didn’t let us down it was sunny and hot every day, dazzling blue sky and turquoise waters. The kind of weather you pray you will get when holidaying back home but only other people seem to get so they can wind you up with news on how hot their holiday on Cornwall was.
Menorca itself kind of reminded me of everywhere else on the Med just smaller and more errm island like. The only real differences you get are the language and the people but even they don’t change all that much.
With the exception of two towns and a smattering of religious/pre-religious/historical sites there’s actually nothing there other than the scenery and great seafood, neither of which can in any way be avoided. I was particularly pleased with the sardines and a seafood paella I had. Well that’s it, Menorca done. You may think I’m being unkind but that really is it and I would have been disappointed if it weren’t for the fact that we went to relax and not run about from one fun activity to another every day. The kids were very happy to play in the pool with their holiday friends. The relaxing atmosphere was helped greatly by it being the last week of the season out there. In all honesty had we gone in season I would have truly really very much hated every second of being there with a vengeance. The resort was deserted, there were never more than a half dozen people in the pool and every where was quiet and peaceful.
I cant even begin to describe how nice it was that there weren’t throngs of sweaty tattooed chav’s oii oii’ing each other in packed pool side bars, packs of screaming kids or night and day drunken yobs. The beaches were almost empty which was a particular relief because beaches on the Med tend to be no wider than a chevetts g-string. Seriously you can usually get from one side of the beach to neck deep in salty bile within three strides.
On one particular afternoon I took a stroll along the cliff tops to the next resort (almost a mirror image of the one we were staying in funnily enough) and I was extremely relieved to find the nudist beach in between empty. Seriously, a nudist beach? Who on earth wants to see naked pensioners and beached middle age whales without their clothes on? Ladies and gents, cover up please! Anyway it was a wasted walk since the next resort was all closed with the exception of a pub doing all day English breakfast, just what I came to the Med for.