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eBook Category: Travel/Family/Relationships
eBook Description: Autumn has arrived for the Kerrs on their fruit farm on the island of Mallorca--The year's third season, "winter spring," finds Peter under the sharp eye of his long-suffering wife Ellie, struggling to shake off the relaxed Spanish tranquiloness that he has now mastered all too well. Old friendships have been established, and new ones are found as the Kerrs are introduced to Mallorca's champagne-swilling Filthy-Rich-Set and their eyes are opened by just how the other half lives--Mosquito-repellent vinegar baths, delicious Mallorcan food, and with background support from dogs, donkeys, geckos, parrots and canaries, this is an autumn such as they've never known--Y Viva Mallorca! Viva Mallorca is the third book in the award-winning series by Peter Kerr, following Snowball Oranges and Manana, Manana. He is also the author of Thistle Soup.

eBook Publisher: Summersdale Publishers Ltd/Summersdale Travel, Published: 2004
Fictionwise Release Date: May 2005

Available eBook Formats:
All formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
Adobe Acrobat Reader ISBN: 1840243805

"The third volume in Kerr's trilogy about moving his family from the UK to grow oranges in Mallorca. Again, we share their joys and their woes. It is beautifully descriptive and a joy to read."--Bookseller Buyers Guide

"Anyone who has read Peter Kerr's fascinating and often hilarious accounts of living in Spain will be delighted to know that following the huge success of his previous books, Snowball Oranges (a Times Best Seller), and Manana Manana, his third book is due to be published in May 2004."--Spanish Homes Magazine

"Peter Kerr has a dry wit and real insight into the fine detail of everyday life in today's Spain."--Roz Cooper, Spanish Magazine

?ParÁsitos,? said SeÑor Ramis the vet, smirking, I suspected, as he turned to write out a prescription. ?A not uncommon problem in caged birds, particularly in our Mediterranean climate. Toma! Take this mixture and administer it to the affected parts twice a day. No problema.? I sauntered the gauntlet of the four inscrutable campesinos in the waiting room as strappingly as I could. ?AdiÓs,? I baritoned. ?AdÉu,? they mumbled in chorus. Silence prevailed while I opened the door; dramatic moments of silence broken only by a sudden snorting snore from the piglet cradled in one of the old fellows? arms. Then one waggish old compadre smiled at me and added dryly, ?May your little hen soon be back on the lay, seÑor.? They didn't laugh as I left. The titters would have been kept diplomatically on hold until they heard me starting the car; of that I was sure. A sign of the respect ? face-to-face, at any rate ? which we had come to appreciate from our farming neighbours around the little town of Andratx in south-west Mallorca, where we had settled some months earlier. Ellie had elected to wait at home at Ca's Mayoral, our little orange farm in a valley amid the mountains away to the north of the town, while I made the reluctant trip to the vet with Mario. He'd been named Mario Lanzarote, incidentally, because he could sing, as could the late tenor Mario Lanza, and the ?rote? suffix had been added to make the Canary connection ? Islands, that is. ?Too many things to do about the house,? Ellie had said. ?Anyway, you can explain things in Spanish much better than I can.? She was busy watching a dubbed episode of Neighbours on TV when I got back. ?Spanish-ised tittle-tattle of the Melbourne suburbs easier to cope with than complicated words like canario for ?canary? and enfermo for ?infirm?, is it?? ?No need to be sarcastic.? Her eyes never left the screen. ?Anyway, what did the vet say?? ?Talk about humiliation,? I muttered, hanging Mario's cage on its hook on the kitchen wall. ?I mean, I do bump into those old guys occasionally, you know. Down at the agricultural supplies store when I?m buying fertilizer or something. I was just beginning to get accepted by them, too.? ?Good. What did the vet say??