Thursday, 25 October 2012

Stories from Spain.

A story from the holiday.

We had arrived on the Tuesday night and got to the hotel late so we just had a few beers served by the night shift doorman.

On the Thursday we decided to have a day trip to Barcelona on the train. Nice day out?

We had to get the bus to Blanes where we transferred to the train, it was like a slow boat to china. The train stopped at every small town between Blanes and Barcelona.

As we approached Barcelona the train went underground, this did not happen the last time (27 years ago, yes things change) so we missed the main train station and travelled on 2 extra stops and we ended up on the west side of town.

Half an hour of looking at maps and a coffee we had a plan. We would walk about a kilometre into town and find a cafe and have lunch, then we would stroll the last mile or so. We were trying to make our way to the new Cathedral (Sagrada Familia).

After a nice lunch with wine we set off for what should have been a half hour walk. The Town has a block system, so you can go quite a few ways, but always going in the right direction.

Suddenly GP (golf partner) was covered in some sort of brown slime, it could have been bird shit it could have been anything. A few seconds later I was covered as well, all down the back of my head down the back of my jacket, right to the bottom of my trousers.

This man who was just leaving his apartment stopped to help, he gave us a packet of paper towels and invited us up to clean up in his flat.

Up the beautiful stair case, solid marble, right to the top, he told us to stay there on the stairs and got a bottle of water. I was trying to clean my hair, the jacket was beyond help, covered.

GP was being cleaned with help from the man, I realised my paper towels were not enough so gave up.

At this moment I watch the man pick GP's pocket, he lifted his mobile phone straight out of GP's trouser pocket. I still did not catch on right away, it could have been Innocent.

'GP, he's just taken your phone'
'He's put your phone on the stairs out of sight'

GP picked up the phone.

'Were getting out of here'

The man followed us at close quarters, we hurriedly dashed out of the building, he followed and made his getaway.
At no point did he open a door to get the water, it was next to the top step. His accomplice must have sprayed us with something brown and wet. It washed off our clothes quite easily when we got back to the hotel.

Needless to say it spoiled the day. We did see the building but the queue's were massif even at this time of the year. We strolled back to the main station and got on the slow boat to China back to Blanes.

All quiet on the hotel front.

The first few days of our holiday the hotel was empty, a few Russian's here, a few Poles there, even some Spaniards.

On the Friday afternoon we came back from an afternoon of Go-cart racing (GP won hands down) to find that almost every room had been filled, about 150. We had to eat out after that, no room in the restaurant.

We did ask why there was only a sign in Russian on the way out of the restaurant.
'It says' said the girl behind the desk 'All food must be consumed in the restaurant', the Russians had been filling their bags with bread and meat.

Golf tomorrow, it's a hard life.

Good night.

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