Farewell Lanzarotians

It only occurred to me at midday that this was actually our last day. The last time in a good while I’d be able to bask in 30+ degrees heat daily, the last time I can clock a good few laps in our private pool just downstairs, the last Jacuzzi I can enjoy over a San Miguel, and – if I didn’t live in a beach town – the last time I can enjoy looking out my window to the sights and sounds of a bustling promenade.
Therefore, I’ve made sure today’s been worthwhile. For a teenager, this isn’t exactly hard, since all we tend to do is laze around anyway – so a few hours sunbathing was right up my street. The 80 lengths I clocked up in the pool however was a new record, both for myself and 99% of the teenage population (this being a guesstimate of course).

It does feel good though that even now, after packing my life abroad back into my suitcase to fly back to boring ol’ Britain tomorrow, I feel like this holiday has been bloody damn good. Though not every minute went off without a hitch (thanks to bickering, and at times pretty tetchy, parents and unfavourable Spurs football results above all), I can’t think of much I’d change when the phrase ‘perfect holiday’ comes to mind.

The location’s been prime, the hotel suite is breathtaking, and the whole experience has been trouble-free to say the least. When we weren’t basking in the glory of the heat, we were dining in style to free food and champers, with convenient boredom-striking breaks in between thanks to (a pretty failed) windsurfing lesson and a venture to a local market (hello Spain shirt with Villa printed on the back, which I’m told is real but I’m pessimistic even for the 35 Euros I forked out).

Everyone here is amazingly courteous, from the receptionists, to the guest relations, to the waiters and – dare I say it – fellow holidaymakers (something of a surprise for a Brit used to our not-exactly-friendly culture back home. Everyone I pass in hallways greeted me with a warm hello (or some other slightly-less courteous gesture in Spanish/German/Dutch disguised with a sly smile). It’s a shame to think that when I get home, the nearest to a hello when greeting a random person on the street will no doubt be a dirty look. Good things have to come to an end at some point I guess.

Since I don’t have much chance to swim regularly these days without feeling it in my wallet after a few months, I tried to make full use of the pool. I set myself before the holiday an aim of 40 laps a day to complete before sunset. The first three days went off without a hitch; from memory I think I clocked up two 60s and a 70 in those days, so I was more than happy. However, I didn’t go on the day I went windsurfing in case I knackered myself out before the lesson, and the day we went to the market I didn’t exactly have much chance to dive in what with timings and all. I managed a few days with a rather feeble 30 lengths, but yesterday and today hit higher targets. Yesterday I did 50 without stopping (usually I stop after 3x10 lengths and continue a little later in the day). Today I went for the same again, but after clocking 51 on my first sitting – the extra length needed since the shower was at the other end of the pool, and I’ll be damned if I’m walking the length instead of swim it – I completed another 29 before calling it a day. I was pretty happy with the way they came about too, since I tried interval training and mixed up slow and fast freestyle and breast-stroke lengths.

I forget to mention earlier, those lengths from today were clocked up without much body fuel at all. I’d eaten a bowl of cereal late-morning, but since then I haven’t eaten anything besides a yoghurt all day – starving myself for the hotel buffet coming in just over an hour. Just coming out of the shower today - as well as noticing I’ve got pretty vivid tan lines - I can noticeably see a bit of muscle definition around my abdomen.

Although I didn’t do much of a workout muscle-wise, I can see and feel myself slightly more toned up from ten days in the water. Hopefully when I’m back home (and with a gym membership coming to an end before journeying back down to Bournemouth), I’ll continue the exercise as much as I have lately and by Christmas should have a bit more to show for it too – both physically and mentally. 

With a suitcase still to finish packing, and hunger pains surprisingly yet to arrive, hopefully the rest of the night will be as successful as the day so far – starting with a cold beer. For a last day, it’s not half been a bad one. Waiter!