In the morning David staggered through to our room to tell us a few more horror stories about Wales. One of his toenails has come loose, one of the other boys fell down some rocks and ripped a leg muscle - he still managed to finish the daily 20 km walk before he had to be taken to hospital; he claims that even the Welsh expedition leaders hated being there and were very grumpy. There seems to have been a camaraderie in adversity among his group and they kept themselves going by deciding what would constitute the ideal burger, or what they would say to people who didn't believe how bad it had been; "You weren't there man!" He told us that he had seen strange Welsh thistles with lots of shoots on them, and they had seen a Hawk plane flying over them twice. David did seem marginally more cheerful about his experience but is still saying that he won't go back!
James decided that he would cut the hedges today, a job that he cheerfully anticipated would take a couple of hours. Imagine his dismay when he found that the cable for the hedge cutters was severed in not one, not two, but three places! This crime was quickly traced back to Alasdair, who had been the last to use them. Luckily for him he is still in Magaluf so was spared James' wrath. After a lot of shouting and soldering James got on with his hedge cutting. I was doing a bit of pottering about and popped out to see how he was getting on, to which he said, "Fine. But I'm not enjoying it." He cheered up when we went for a nice lunch at Zizzi's.
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