December 14, 2008 § Leave a comment
That’s the word for my time in Seville.
Now, after the last update, most of you would think it might probably be wise to be taking lots of vitamins, drink lots of water, catch up on some beauty sleep, and other similar healthy activities. Although it would appear that my good intentions are always there, inevitably events seem to have a mind of its own and I find myself ending up feeling like crap. Again.
No, it’s not what you think. This is NOT an AA blog. All accidental coincidences, really. I shall attempt to provide a summary. I apologize for the vague-ish commentary. After all, it is pieced together by the mind of a very vague individual at the moment.
Seville is my last destination in Spain and I guess I have not learned my lesson after all. I have discovered that willpower is a trait I thought I possessed but clearly do not. As a result I can say with confidence that the last few days have been a rather hazy mix of all sorts of night activities after that ‘one drink’. These activities may have included some deep intellectual discourses over some fine Spanish wine at some point but I’m sorry to say I really don’t remember too much of it. I suppose I could always consult my conversational partners but these people are to me but hazy also. Pretty sure I discussed the meaning of life at some point with a Gary Sinise lookalike.
This is what I remember. Tapas and sangria. Some Spanish guy who looked exactly like Jerry Seinfeld. Tinto de verano. Free flamenco. Bars and clubs till dawn. Spanish folk who bought me drinks and taught me to swear in Spanish. Waking up not knowing whether it was night or day. Breakfast at noon, lunch at 5pm and dinner at midnight. I do recall going to the Plaza de Espana one evening but never really saw the city by day at all.
I feel completely wasted. Fucking hell I think I’m getting too old for this shit.
December 9, 2008 § Leave a comment
One good way to feel like shit
Is to have an alcoholic late night shift
At the very well named Drunk Crock bar
The one and only Aussie one in Malaga
Plastic crocs and roos smile from the walls
But no cute bartender from Oz, alas
Then the very next day get up at noon
Had to wait for my head to stop spinning soon
Damn you hangover, go away now
I need to walk up to Gibralfaro
Shit! The climb uphill ain’t really easy
When I’m still feeling really shitty.
Think I’ll give up beer for a bit
At least until I stop feeling like shit.
December 7, 2008 § Leave a comment
Spanglish is way amusing. Especially if it’s Spanglish nonsense. Have you heard the one about the mariposita? It needs to be told in a Spanish accent. I laughed till I almost pee-ed in my pants. Ok so maybe I’m easily amused. And maybe I might have had a FEW afternoon drinks at several Spanish establishments.
It was all part of David and Belen’s Grand Granada Tour. It basically involved churros and chocolate for breakfast, 20% sight-seeing and the rest sampling local beverages and yes, more tapas. This time the tapas included escargots, prawns and paella. Believe it! I was feeling light-headed by 5pm. We headed for a small siesta. I am beginning to feel Spanish.
At night we went for the most excellent flamenco show. Never would have thought a short little curly-haired man wearing a pink shirt stomping around on a stage could be so entertaining. I was extra fascinated by the man whose only job was to clap his hands. So anyway compared to yesterday’s mishap, today was mucho excellent. I even hate the bus less.
December 5, 2008 § Leave a comment
Warning. I’m going to rant a bit. Do not continue reading this post if you are likely to be offended by coarse language/if you are a bus driver/if you like the bus/or if you are a very old person.
As one may have guessed, I fucking hate the bus! I fucking hate waiting for the bus. I fucking hate getting on the bus. I especially fucking hate the bus stopping at every bus stop. I hope one day all buses will be banished from this earth.
Anyway, I hope you get how much I hate the bus. I spent the entire morning getting lost on one today. But how does one get lost on a bus? Easy actually. Don’t speak any Spanish. Sit ALL the way at the back of the bus so the driver can’t notice. Don’t pay attention. And, forget a map.
It was supposed to be a half hour ride to the city center, and I was told to get off at the last stop. But wait, there was NO last stop! The bus kept on going, and after an hour or so of going round and round all the barrios and to the farthest suburbs of Granada, I began to suspect something was wrong, as we even stopped at a place called Motril, nowhere near the city. So I went to the driver and sign-languaged him. He gave me a look and started to spew Spanish in a feverish manner. Good thing I didn’t understand, as I’m pretty sure he was saying ‘You fucking idiot! Were you sleeping at the back of the bus? Open your eyes! We stopped there AGES ago and you were too stupid to get off! Go and fucking learn some Spanish!’.
Ok then. I was beginning to get really irritated, and I wanted to pee. At times like these when I needed chocolate, I had none, damn it. Luckily a lady who spoke a bit of English got on the bus and all misunderstandings were resolved. A Really Old Bugger (ROB) sat next to me and it turned out he was also getting off at the same stop, so he could help me out. ROB smelled of old socks and garlic, and he liked to whistle randomly. When we finally got off the bus, he kept talking to me even though he knew I didn’t understand a word. I worked out ROB was trying to ask me if I was from China or Japan, because he brought me to a Chinese/Japanese restaurant. No no no! Um, no sir, Australia. Oficina turismo por favor! He didn’t understand and in the end we settled on ‘Americano’. No problem, as the important thing was to find a tourist office.
Found it! I had never been so happy to see one. Thanks ROB! He laughed at me and shuffled his garlicky self away. After that tremendous effort, I ended up spending less than an hour there due to siesta time at 2pm. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow…
December 2, 2008 § Leave a comment
Free tapas and free beer rules, I discover in Madrid. Yep. Free. Bet nobody knew that. Although I didn’t believe it myself at first, I happen to like free stuff, so I followed my new Spanish friends to several tapas bars one fine night.
So the concept is, buy one drink, get tapas free. Not like some miserable tiny pieces of sad-looking bread crumbs, but LARGE PLATES of food. Mushrooms, patatas bravas, Spanish omelettes, jamon, chorizos. A myth it’s not, it is indeed real. I have eaten these humongous tapas, lots and lots of it.
Anyway, after stuffing up on tapas, apparently people here also give out free drinks. As we were walking away from the tapas place to catch the last metro back, we were stopped by some club bouncer. He said something in Spanish and I was convinced he was either trying to sell us drugs or get us to follow him to perform undesirable activities. But my Spanish friend said, hey, you want a free drink? Um…ok! In the end it really was a free drink and nothing more.
Despite all the free stuff I had received (museum entries too), I have some mixed feelings about Madrid. It’s huge, and for the first time in 9 weeks I feel quite alone. In the big bad city it’s amazingly cold, and most times I can’t feel my hands. It even snowed yesterday.
I’m going on a 6 hour bus ride to Granada tomorrow. I’ve been told the free tapas there are WAY bigger than Madrid, oh yeah.