Day 15 - Baptismo

The day started hard and got steadily worse until I accepted soluble aspirin from Daniel's stock. I had 'Dan Frenched myself' which is no mean feat . .

The excesses of Sunday night's BBQ party hit me slow but hard with a stonking headache kicking in by 11am, just as I was required to measure and drill precisely for the bridge and stop tail piece.

I was not so hungover, however, not to be struck by the strange way in which people in Spain buy their pets. Standard sizes, all bagged up, seems a little cruel to me . . .

As always, our work was supervised by the Norwegian Blue . .

But I hope he wasn't supervising the building of these frail specimens!

Eric's morning was spent routing his pickup cavity and drilling the pickup magnet holder . .

For my part, I fought the headache to measure the precise setting of the bridge (another high risk exercise) and the stop tail piece. Managed it and drilled them without any major disaster . .

Then I settled in to working out exactly how the scratchplate was going to be designed. I used some props . .

I spent some time cutting out the paper template then cutting the material itself . .

Then fine tuning the shape and aesthetics with bandsaw and sanding . .

Then we went off to Mitjorn beach for a group lunch at . .

With a beautiful beachside position under the trees . . .

But we were still so delicate there was not even any Benny Hill salad vegetable humour with their enormous onions . .

But a fine lunch was had anyway, and the hair of the dog was drunk. Some great fresh fish and paella . . .

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After an aspirin for my head, the Berlitz 'German Coastguard' story went down well (if you don't know it, Google it . . )

Then in the late afternoon sun, we emerged to baptise our bodies in the Med facing North Africa/Algeria. We banished the evil sprits from our wood and offered them up to the sun god, then danced naked around them as we set fire to ourselves . . .  All right, it wasn't quite so 'Dennis Wheatley' but it is a bit of fun and a regular fixture at Formentera Guitars. There are photos of this quasi-religious festival at bars and restaurants all over the island . .

But not before the post-prandial hierbas . .

A lot of fun was had and the main protagonists of this blog were happy . . .

As was everyone else, but we had to have a word with Daniel as he took his guitar-body lust a little too far . .

I think we went back to work afterwards and did some more stuff, but I could be wrong . .

A light dinner was had back at the casa, but we needed to get a good sleep as the TV crew are coming tomorrow (today)!

Hasta!