Finally Liam was done, months of hard slog to deliver his project and it was finished and he could look forward to a relaxing break. He'd already booked the holiday, returning to Gran Canaria where he and his late wife had spent several happy holidays. He'd booked the Riu Palace Maspalomas as a luxury gift to himself. They'd always admired it from a distance, even peered through the doors once or twice and had dared to venture inside once, promising themselves they would stay there one day when the kids were grown and gone. That was a lesson in life, Liam thought ruefully, if you want to do something just do it before it was too late.
His wife had died from cancer last year and he was taking the trip now, alone. He'd thought of taking the kids with him, treating them and their partners, but good though his bonus would be, it didn't quite stretch to such luxury and he didn't want to be thought of as buying their company. No, he'd treat them to something else where they could go and enjoy their youth, not be stuck with him.
Still in his forties there was plenty of life in the old dog yet, he kept fit playing golf and squash and had many friends from those activities, but the loss of his wife had left a huge hole. One day perhaps he might meet someone else, but just at the moment he couldn't envisage ever finding someone to hold a candle to her.
Packing finished, he drove to the airport, parking already arranged via a meet and greet service, no more fighting his way onto a bus at the long term parking, he was determined to make this trip as smooth as possible. Airports of course were a law unto themselves, it was as though everything conceivable was done to make life as difficult as possible. On-line check-in and bag drop alleviated some of the stress, but the interminable sitting around waiting for flights to be called really aggravated him. He could have booked a lounge but sitting on your own in a lounge was little different to sitting on your own in the terminal. People he didn't mind, inefficiency he did!
Finally he was at the gate and boarding, amazed at the liberal interpretation some people had at carry-on luggage, people standing on seats ramming bags into overhead lockers. He'd always travelled light when it came to hand luggage, iPad, phone, airpods, Kindle, sun cream, paracetamol, that was about it. He'd always had a paranoid fear of having to escape the aircraft and leave his wallet and passport behind so they were always tucked in a pocket.
The 787 Dreamliner really was a superb aircraft, he thought, Boeing certainly got that one right, the flight itself smooth, comfortable and easy, the scrum at immigration and baggage reclaim, a direct contrast, standing watching an interminable parade of suitcases none of which seemed to belong to anybody. He saw four rather attractive ladies struggle to get their suitcases off the carousel and helped them, receiving grateful looks and profuse thanks, then his own case arrived. Lifting it off with ease he made his way to the pre-booked taxi, he'd had enough of tour operators' coaches when he'd travelled with the family, now all he wanted was simplicity, even at a cost.
Typically it was raining at Las Palmas, but he knew from past experience that the weather in the south of the island would probably be very different and true enough it was, brilliant sunshine and very pleasantly warm despite the approaching evening. The Riu Palace was not spectacular from the island side, yes, clearly showing its class, but he knew that it was a most imposing building when viewed from the seaward side, starkly white on a small headland sitting majestically overlooking the Maspalomas dunes. They were partly the reason he'd chosen this particular venue, he'd always fancied sunbathing nude and the dunes and surrounding beaches offered that very opportunity. His wife had balked at the idea, but now he could, he'd grasped the nettle and decided to bare all.
He'd heard about all sorts of other activities that went on in the dunes, and his voyeuristic side had thought that perhaps he might just venture into them, but certainly didn't consider himself to be a dirty old man!
Check-in was mercifully easy, a glass of Cava easing the way as the formalities were complied with and he was soon in his room, on the third floor with a balcony opening out onto the magnificent vista over the dunes. Throwing open the balcony doors he took in the sights, the smells and the breath-taking views. The hotel was adults only, to him part of a holiday was seeing and hearing kids enjoying themselves, screaming and screeching, but this time he'd relish the relative peace and quiet.
It was still relatively early so he changed out of his travel clothes and decided to venture out of the hotel in search of a beer and something to eat. He knew there were many restaurants and bars a short walk away in Playa del Ingles and he decided the walk would do him good. As he passed reception he saw the four women from baggage reclaim checking in, clearly having endured the coach and he looked forward to seeing them around the pool, or even better in the dunes.
He found a bar and sat at an outside table watching the world go by, there was certainly a huge variety of people to observe, old, young, families, everyone enjoying the warm evening sunshine. He found a restaurant on the boardwalk along the beach and enjoyed a steak and some wine watching the sun set over the sea. It seemed idyllic, a million miles away from work and England, perhaps retiring somewhere like this would be an acceptable dream.
He returned to the hotel along the broad walkway that traversed the south of the resort and nodding to the receptionist as he passed, returned to his room. Travelling always made him feel tired, but the stresses of the past few months were disappearing rapidly and he was determined to enjoy this holiday.
