Here are entries from my 1986 trip diary. I was 30 years old and visiting Europe for the first time, including several days with Patrick and Stephanie in Deia. No doubt you have seen several pictures from that visit on this site. This was the first time I’d met Stephanie.
I’ll include transcriptions at the bottom of this posting since the image files don’t support the language translation engine included on this site.
After returning home, I wrote up a four page summary of my trip and sent it to friends and family. Below is the part about my visit with Patrick.
Here is the text version of these entries:
The holiday is rapidly approaching its conclusion. I ended up on the 15:55 flight, except it was delayed two hours.
While in the airport awaiting my flight, a bloke from London asked me for a light. Naturally I was without, but we talked for a while. He told me his wallet was lifted in the airport and he was waiting for a friend to arrive from London with more cash. A lot of what he said sounded like a song and dance, but what the hell, I bought him a cup of coffee. Then I bought a book from him: Beside the Rivers of Babylon. It was pretty good too though I didn’t expect it to be.
While in Deia we ate (a lot), we traipsed about the mountains, we went out to Andraitx, Soller, Puerto Soller, Palma (of course), and Galilea. Pat gave me a piano lesson as Son Marriog and I played my songs for him and Steph.
Pat looks and sounds like a young Sean Connery these days.
We had several political discussions. Free enterprise doesn’t thrill them.
He also told me that my birth was an accident, and that they went to Havana to abort me. However, my mom was too far along, so they bought a statue instead.
I read some more of his work, both published and not, and got a few leads on some more places to find his stuff. He gave me the only copy of the Ballad of the Glonk, which I shall try to copy and distribute to the family. I also had the chance to read some of my mom’s stuff, but I forgot to bring it with me.
Spanish trains love their horns!
Here’s the typed up version of the newsletter segment:
After arriving in Barcelona, I sat in the airport all day, waiting for my flight to Mallorca, scheduled to depart at 3:35. It was about two hours late. I spent almost a week on Mallorca with Patrick, my natural father, and his girlfriend Stephanie. We went to several concerts, saw many of the island sites, and had lots of talks. I hadn’t seen him in over 10 years, so we had a lot of catching up to do. The only reason I was in Spain at all was to see him, and the time flew by much too quickly.
I’m the son of Patrick of Meadows.