So where would you shelter ?

So you are driving around a fairly small island and its been sooo hot and sooo sultry over the past few days that you're wishing a big storm would come and blow it all away, and today its looking like you'll get your wish because those clouds that were on the horizon a few hours ago are now filling the sky, and they are black, and they look angry, there's going to be a big electric storm anytime right now, and no messing.

So where would you go to shelter from the big electric storm then ?

Perhaps if I told you that the highest peak in Menorca is right in the middle of the island and that for hundreds of years its had a monastery on top of it but in more recent years its become home to dozens of radio masts and air traffic beacons and all sorts of electrical wizadry stuff being that its the highest place on the island and all that - would that seem like a good place to shelter from a big mean old electrical storm ?

Well it seemed like a good place to us and so we stuck the Ford Focus into a low gear and wound our way up and up the mountainside until we were pulling into the car park alongside the monastery just as the first dinnerplate sized raindrops started to hit the ground, time to head for the coffee shop with the outdoor terrace I decided.

And so we sat there under a canopy waiting for the storm to pass over and after about ten minutes of non-action and with the asistance of a large cup of caffeine I sat there perusing the multitude of radio masts and wondering if they all had lightning conductors and then ever so slowly realised just how vulnerable we were up here.

We finished our coffees and tiptoed ever so slowly out of the monastery so as not to upset the god of the storm which was still poised over us, big, black and angrier by the minute but still not so much as a flicker from it - we dived in the car and zoomed back down the mountain as fast as the Focus would take the numerous U-bends.

The storm didn't attack Menorca until later on that evening, until much later on when we were sat safely on our apartment verandah to watch the light show - and the tornado.

Yes we saw a tornado descend from the black clouds a couple of miles out at sea, it hung there for about five minutes and eventually at one point actually touched down in the sea - thats my own photo of it above - impressive eh ?

Well its impressive when you come from the UK where the BBC call a strong gust of wind in Kent in 1987 a tornado.

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And another thing...

The monastery.

Its supposed to be run by nuns, according to the tourist info, but its not, its run by quiet men.

I assumed they were monks, if they weren't monks then they were very quiet men, so quiet that they must have been specially selected for their quietness, you couldn't hear them at all when you spoke to them, god knows what they must have been like at the interview...

"Good morning Mr Gonzales, what skills do you think you think you can offer the monastery coffee shop then ?"
" "
"Pardon ?"
" "
(turns to fellow interviewer)
"What did he say ?"
"Haven't a clue old boy"
"Did he say anything ?"
"I think so, his lips moved a bit"
"Is he a mute ?"
"Well he's perfect for the coffee shop if he is"
"Whys that ?"
"We asked for quiet men, don't you remember"
"I didn't mean that bloody quiet"
"Language Brother Timothy, language"

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And one more thing about the Monte Torre day...

As I sat there pondering on which of my family would be struck by lightning first, and wondering if our Advantage Gold insurance policy covered acts of stupidity or whether we could convince the insurers that the storm had rushed up on us when we were already up there, I spotted a very strange looking woman.

It was her face that was strange.
As though she'd had botox treatment.
In random places on her face.

She had the face of a hamster thats just stuffed enough food in its cheeks to last it the winter, the face of such a hamster that has then gone and had botox treatment on its eyes and forehead.

And then been stung by lots of bees on its way home.

But just when I was feeling sorry for the woman with the face like a bag of walnuts and wondering what strange tropical disease she might have, and whether it was contagious, and whether she was up here for the electric shock treatment, I noticed her two kids - they were just as ugly.

So it wasn't a terrible disease at all, nor a tragic beekeeping accident, she was supposed to look like that and her good looks (if you are a warthog that is) had been passed down to her two young boys.

Poor sods.