People Watching and Flying Pigs

As we near the end of our holiday here in Fuertaventura I have been chatting to Dad about our adventures. 

I actually think he’s been on a different holiday to me!

He seems to have forgotten the time I was pushing him along the Promenade and the African guy selling fake purses and handbags had to catch him as we hit a ridge in pavement.

Neither can he remember getting stuck between two sun beds as he was trying to lift himself from sunbed to wheelchair. The wheelchair slipped and Dad went flying onto the neighbouring bed which had just been vacated by a big German guy.

I laugh as I talk about my agility with a wheelchair. I know exactly when to turn him around and pull him up kerbs and within days I had sussed which way to go to avoid those steep inclines.

Dad has no recollection of any of this. 

However he can tell me which bar serves the best beer and which bar maid has the nicest legs.

He remembers the name of the lass with bright pink hair who offered to wheel him to the Irish Bar and sing Danny Boy as a duet.

He asks me every day what day it is and when I go to wake him and tell him it’s 9 o clock he always asks

“Is that morning or night?”

There has to be a certain satisfaction at not knowing or caring whether it’s day or night and to have no concept of time.

Having said that Dad seems to know exactly when it’s 11.30am because that’s the time he has started drinking every day!

I get him a beer go for a dip in the pool then return to the pool bar and people watch with Dad.

He hasn’t brought his hearing aid so when he loudly points out the size of one guys belly I know it’s time to move on. 

Moving on entails getting back into his wheelchair. He doesn’t like sitting in his wheelchair so wherever we go he moves from wheelchair to comfy chair! 

He is blissfully unaware of how long this takes him. He always stops half way to admire the view and take a sneaky look around for any new single ladies in the vicinity.

Its also accompanied by various grunts, groans and expletives as he tells his 80 year old body that it’s acting like a 95 year old geriatric.

If I’ve learned anything this holiday it’s that patience and routine are the key as well as a sense of humour. 

Dad is already planning our next holiday abroad and every time he mentions it I point out that pink pig with wings that’s flying in the sky!

So far I’ve spotted 6 pink pigs and Dad has missed everyone of them.