There's nothing sinister afoot, merely my enjoying myself in another continent where clouds have apparently been banned, and where a swimming pool the size of Texas is nothing extraordinary.
So consider this as a kind of post card (hand-written too, you notice?); an exceptional one seeing as it reaches you before the sender arrives back in the UK.
It's been a wonderful period of indulging excessively in pleasures our authorities would love to see banned, in company with people from Belgium, Russia, Belarus, South Africa, Mexico, the USA and Southport, to name but a few. And despite Mrs P's best efforts during our time here, I am still confident of not being bankrupt when we return to the UK late tonight.
So just in case you've been wondering, normal windmill-tilting will resume here soon.