Rafael’s Balearic Nightmare

Ma holiday wis eventful, ye might say.

Deya

Me and Mrs Faeleith stayed in a wee place near Deya, a mountain village in the Tramuntana Mountains ay North Majorca.

Ah kent afore we went that Deya wis a posh place, like, seein’ as how Princess Di stayed there in a hotel called “La Residencia”.

Afore she died, obviously.

Branson used tae own it until he sold it to shore up a flagging airline.

The village is pure fuckin’ gobsmackingly gorgeous, tucked away in its ain wee valley wi’ the mountains on three sides and a view tae the sea in between.

Magaluf it certainly isnae.

Andrew Lloyd Webber

Hooses here are aboot £1.5 million fer a 3 bed wi’ pool, kinday thing. Annie Lennox has a wee pad here, and Andrew Lloyd Webber has just bought two villas in the village. So that should bring the prices doon in future.

The writer Robert Graves (of “I Claudius” fame amongst many others) wis the first celeb tae recognise Deya’s attraction and lived here afore it became famous and trendy.

Its easy tae see whit the attraction wis. There’s pure magic in the air. It’s a special place.

Anyhow’s, ah digress.

One nite, ah decided tae splash oot an took the missus tae the maist expensive restaurant in the village, “El Olivo”.

Ma Spanish isnae up tae much, but if ah hud tae take a wild guess, ah wid think it’s roughly translated as “The Olive”.

Point is, it’s the kinday place where they gie ye a blank look if ye ask fer brown sauce.

Ah kent it wis where aw the celebs hing oot, ken, but there wis naebody we recognised sittin’ there. A bit disappointin’ if truth be telt.

Catherine Zeta Jones Michael fuckin’ Douglas

Anyhows, ah’m full ay the joys ay sunshine holiday testosterone tellin’ Mrs Faeleith that even if Catherine Zeta Jones wis tae walk in, she wid still be the biggest star in the place tae ma mind. (Ken, the things a man’ll say tae get his leg ower?)

It wis definitely workin’ an aw. She wis blushin away like a virgin on amyl nitrate.

Then fuck me, whit should happen?

In walks Michael fuckin’ Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones.

Ah fuckin’ kid ye not.

They’ve a hoose just up the road near Valldemosa, aboot 6k away.

“They’ll fuckin’ let any auld riff-raff intae this joint, eh?” ah joked tae Mrs Faeleith, perhaps a bit louder than wis wise judgin’ by the snotty looks ah got fae the people at the next table.

Ah wid luv tae gie ye the story aboot Michael Douglas walkin’ up tae oor table and sayin’ |Awrite Rab, how’s it goin’?” Then me sayin’ tae him “Away and fuck off Mickey, can ye no see ah’m busy talkin tae ma burd?”

But ah ken if ah did that, ye wouldnae believe whit’s comin’ in Part Two, an’ ah swear tae God it’s aw true.