Spanish Excitement. 14th-15th August.

Wednesday 14th August 2013.

I snoozed until 11am. Egads! Then we raced down (not literally) and while we reached base at the Princess Diana park the parentals had a change of heart and settled with getting a taxi to La Cala (7 euros bus fare approx. for four people to Funegirola, taxi cost 14 euro. La Cala is charged a similar rate for the bus fare, hence my normally luxurious father keen to spend on a taxi). To La Cala we go!

 

Dad's sexy burn line.

     Once again we visited a market. This one was set up beside a circus, where tired looking elephants gazed in dismay at the midweek browsers. I bought Karen a quirky bag and befriended the stall owner who was quick to say I should come back, because they have the "best bags". I'm not sure if he meant that Spain has a fabulous array of bags or if he was just saying that his stall is the king of bag stalls. I smiled nonetheless. Karen's bag was a technicolour funk which would have made Picasso smile. The heart decor made me think of her character in Worldly.I cannot believe my little friend is 18. What a crazy world.

    A moment of thought for the tired circus elephants. I'd never seen them before, up close, in real life. It made me think of Kelly and her elephant riding. Tiny tusks and puckered skin. Almost ugly. Dung flecked and tiny-eyed. The poor beasts had an air of misery between them. It was a woeful sight watching them rub against each other in their miniscule pen and sway in the heat. As we left a Spanish man began to hose them down. All the same I felt a horrible twang of pity as we returned to the market.

     While browsing and melting I spotted a [secret object]* that I thought my Thai Queen would like. Ryan hadn't bought his eldest explorer anything yet and had asked Mum and I to look out for  a gift for her. So when we came back around the stalls (Mum stopping to buy a dress) I convinced the others to follow suit and we visited the stall with the object in question (I swear it's not drugs). 

      On the way out of the market I stopped at a stall selling Venetian masks. I was tempted to buy one but any of the good ones were about 20 euros. I settled with an elephant t-shirt, which was about 12 euros and reminded me of the one in the other market but longer, nicer and less offensive to Hindus (hopefully).

 

New job Dad found me in the Spanish paper as he read in the cafe.

"Relax house" eh? Sounds better than selling perfume.  

      I bought myself a couple of tops in a Moda shop (two for 5 euro) an orange net jacket and a long blue top which mum could also wear . I bought a few gifts in the tourist shop. A turtle beanie for the turtle loving Chrissy (I used to be obsessed with beanie toys from Spain, it was all i asked for as a gift when i was a child) and a yin/yang hugging set of salt and Pepper shakers for Chris Scullion to use in his new uni place. The knick knack shop where i once bought Ruth a mermaid (and myself one) and we used to browse near the beach is now closed down. Kelly would be sad. Places close eventually. Everywhere does, in the end.

     I had an iced coffee with loads of cream (it was okay) in a cafe. It was probably around 35 degrees. Mum has been drinking beer this holiday. To save money...but secretly to look cool.

     We got a taxi back home. The taxi dropped us at Miraflores. The walk is nothing and we suck at directions in Spanish. 

    The thing I do like about Spain is the unique street names. Even in a residential tourist part of Spain they can't have their streets named just anything like "called flores" or something equally stupid and tacky. In our area they name the streets after planets and constellations. Our apartment complex is on a street called Calle Sirius (named after the famous dog star, nonetheless). There's a Calle Saturno right beside it (you can guess yourself). 

     As far as reading is concerned I gave up on the hideous husk of  sandpaper on the subconscious read that is "The Amityville Horror". For a series so famous they could have been written by...anyone, and been a better read. I began reading the historical biography on "Cleopatra" and was engulfed in a superior sense of prose and content. 

     We ate at an Indian restaurant called Bombay. I had Bombay Aloo with pilau rice, snatching some Korma from the others and relishing the slices of Peshwari Nan. I'd played with flowers in my hair earlier and even attached a pretty white bloom to Mum's bun (the heat made it almost a sin to wear your hair loose). While chatting and refraining from reading (i'd left the book home by mistake) accordion players appeared and began to assault us with their hideous music. I've heard an accordion being played correctly (I have my musical maestro of a grandfather to thank for that) but these two headbangers had not, it seemed . They played music so abhorrent and tuneless that strangers to the instrument would be incapable of telling if it is being played correctly. Luckily we refused to pay. We'd had enough suffering. 

     The only bad thing about the meal was the hot plate. Fate was sticking up his middle finger and Mum had an asthma attack by the time we reached the apartment. Thank you hot plates everywhere for your candle-y love. 

     Dad was in a ridiculously fantastic mood the entire night. He was practically bouncing with joy. We could only assume that he was either high or really close to it.

     Ryan and I then went to the beach and tried (and failed) to play bat and ball. The light beat us and we began to play in the dark. We nearly lost the tiny orange ball but found it with the glow of my mobile. We took that as a sign to return home. 

 

The "ball" is plastic. Much like Paris Hilton.

     We stopped at Opencor for water and Ryan spotted a basketball hoop for doorways. It was all I could do to drag him away from it.

Thursday 15th August 2013.

 I went to Calahonda with Padre. The bank was closed and so was the shop with my sailor outfit, so it was another venture into Cafe Zoco. Guess what I had? Correct. Another cafe bombon. I went onto Facebook to see how the results went with my friends. Nobody seemed to have done too badly, and only a few were unhappy with some of their results, but overall it was a relief. Two of them will be joining me in Queens. I'll try not to GET TOO EXCITED ABOUT IT :D
HURAAAAAHHH!!

     (Thinking about my friends reminds me that I have to sort out Dublin.)

     After Calahonda we visited the Supermercado.  I also frequented the pool with Mum. There were no asthma attacks - success! I dipped my feet and wore no sun cream, using a blue wrap like a Greek goddess (or Cleopatra...oh shush. I'm so not getting into that book to the extent that I have begun fantas--okay. I'm not going to lie here. You're right. I'm getting a bit too into it). I dipped my feet and legs into the water and Mum floated.

The harlot!

       I went up to La Venta with Ryan. We spent forever in a supermarket feeling grown up as we picked something to buy. It was one of those supermarkets were you sorta have to buy something as you pass the exit. Ryan settled on a Dime bar cheesecake for 5 euros. I got a muffin too, for a euro. I recommend both but especially the Swedish delight that is the former option.

     We washed our sweat away (I dipped my head in the sink and my shirt too - now I know how Kelly feels with her fancy Asian bucket showers). Next came dinner. Buenos noches.

     Some people were smoking at Mama Nostra so we moved inside to eat. I had ravioli and spinach. It was salty, creamy and all other good things-y. My cappuchino was perfect. 

     Meanwhile my book kept splurging facts about the Ptomely family which I had to keep sharing. Coincidentally to my taste in literature - there have been horrific riots and uprest in Cario in Egypt. Likewise in Egypt in 30 BC the native Egyptians were unable to make sweet, sweet metaphorical babies with the Roman senate. Cleopatra had a weird hate-hate relationship with Herod (he claimed she tried to woo him too- harlot!) and she hated Jews because of her hatred for him. The book (by an author who once taught in Queens) proclaimed that the Ptomely women were monogamous.Cleopatra only had two lovers (she was never a brother lover). It also informed me about Brother-sister monarchies (Osiris and Isis marriage) and how a woman could rarely rule without a male, so when Cleopatra bore Caeseron (and her brother "died") she declared the newborn her co-monarch.

Much better.

     Mum and I browsed the Night Bazaar on our way back. We spotted some nice scarves and attracted the attention of the stall owner - who spoke no English. He kept showing us scarves and not letting us be. We got him really excited when we actually started buying scarves. He decided we were his best friends when we bought about four scarves (and it's not like they were hideously expensive!). We all kept laughing because nobody understood what was being said. He pulled out this one scarf, unfurled it and said something like "grande...like cheval" which seems to suggest he couldn't decide what language to break into but also that horses are the best way to sell scarves. We laughed and laughed, browsed the rest of the market, and avoided our new friend who'd been so excited that he told the people in the stall next to him who laughed and cat-called after us.

    Back at the apartment Ryan and I celebrated not dying horribly like those people in Cario by eating Dime Bar cheesecake (the world is a terrible place but cake makes everything better). Cleopatra (decadent but not actually a wench) would have done the same.
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*See Karen, I'm learning! I wont give any other spoilers (seeming as everyone else has already received their gifts, it's just Kelly spoilers now). Stupid neon bracelet spoilers.