I must say first and foremost how bloody cold is it in Yorkshire? I have been back since Tuesday night and have had to buy a jacket, and get my gran to sort out her old jumpers - just to stop my arms and bottom from going purple - It is so cold here - I cannot handle it.
Barcelona was not exactly tropical - But once the day got going one could wander around in a t-shirt - or camisetta to give it its Spanish name. OK I am gonna do a break down of the past week - I do not hink I have written for that long - well, not properly.
Friday 24th February - I was in Sitches, which is a little village about 45k's from BCN and is a known hang out for gay men, women too probably, but they did not interest me, hence I never noticed any lesbos. I went with Christina my mate from Spanish class, her mate from Wakefield, Yorks Rachael, her bloke Chris and 3 of their gay mates who are all trolly dollys for BA. It is ironic that I blogged about wanting a gay mate once I moved to SF - Then ended up in BCN and finding 3! Carlos was the only Spaniard - very well groomed, as they all were. His bloke Turnip (Paul) is from Maidstone, Kent and finally Ma Baker (Paul) from London, who was the mother figure, well, from what I could gather. Can I just say how lovely their eyebrows were? Amaizingly well plucked - some what expertly in my opinion, in fact I was a bit envious, I was bloody pleased that I had a go on my own brows with the old rusty tweezers I have managed to swirve past customs in 4 countries over the past 2 months. Put a girl to shame those gay guys, on the ball when it came to make up tips - Mind you, I do think Ma Baker's baby blue pashimina was a little OTT - for a Friday - Don't you think?
Just off for a fag...Excuse the pun
Ok - Where was I? Yeah, Sitches. We went for a lovely meal which ended with a large brandy and was only the beginning of a very merry evening of red wine and dancing. I was too drunk to take my make-up off when I got back to the villa, and that's a rarety these days - mind you I didn't bother last night - more on that later...
Christina and I took a long time to recover the next day, and ended up lounging around reading Hello, Ok and watching Coronation Street multi editions - I must say I quite enjoyed that part as I have not read any of that trash for a while, and as far as English TV goes, I cannot recal the last time I had the pleasure.
Saturday 25th Feb.
Back to Barcelona by train, whcih took 30 mis and was a scenic route - right along the edge of the Med. Siesta, face on then out with 2 mates from school, and my wonderful hosts Sarah and Jose. We went to a Gotic part of BCN to a place called Rubies. Which served up a nice burger and chips my mother would have found hard to match. Then Hotel Homm, for my second night of heavy drinking, this time Belvadeer vodka tonics (I know - that day has finally come when I ordered that weird mixer I always thought was reserved for grandmas and twats). I danced with a big guy for what seemed like a never ending version of Crazy In Love, I thought my heart was gonna come right out of my chest, I danced that hard. The guy was deffo a match for me, I grossly underestimated the staying power of a fatty, but with my boobs jiggling in his face, well, most Spaniards do find that their eyes are situated at roughly the same height of my mammories, especially when I am wearing heels, he managed to keep up with the serious ass shaking. Bed at 6am. Far too late for even Lancolm's Age Defying moisturiser to cope with. I needed a lot of sleep.
Sunday 26th Feb.
Out for an Itallian.
Monday 27th Feb.
I popped back to school to say farewell to my new buddies and my last cafe cortardo of the Spanish leg of my never ending holiday. Then took some rapid snaps of the city, bought Sarah a thank-you handbag, and ate my last Menu del dia, at a little spot I have had my eye on for a few weeks. Lovely food - 3 courses and a glass of vino tinto all for under 10 euros. Please do not get caught up in the Rambla's rip of tourist traps if you happen to visit BCN - Thre are so many cheap options if you dare venture off the usual places.
Tuesday 28th Feb.
Back to Blighty. I was pleased with my 33 euro one way ticket with EasyJet, however could not believe it when I had to pay 40 euros excess baggage! Can you believe that? I left SF with a weekend bag for Vancouver on Jan 15th and a mere month later I have accumilated enough luggage to warrant a fine at the airport. My toilet-bag weighed 2k's but even squashing that in with my hand luggage - of which the bloody handle snapped upon my arrival at Stanstead, could not stop the excess charge being implimented. I wish I could spell.
In duty free I treat myself to a bottle of Channel Mmms and was gob smacked at the price on that. I have always been fortunate enough to have my favourite scent bought for me by a man, not these days, I may have to revert back to the Old Spice for Women - Exclaimation - Boot's own. I cannot keep forking out for such luxuries especially as I am unemployed.
Back to Stanstead airport. It was snowing when the plane landed - not enough for them to turn round and take me back to BCN, which I would have liked, but enough to make me wish I had skis and my warm coat on, and enough to make me instantly hate the UK. I grabbed a double latte and headed for the train, whcih I had to take to Petterborough and then Leeds. I got in a bit of a stress as the caffeen went straight to my sweat glands and I started to sweat at the same time as being completley frozen bow-legged. There was an hour wait - so I rammed the trolley back up the 2 stories of the car park and proceeded to grab a very expensive sarni and read the paper. I had only got to page 15 when I was approached by an Indian fellow, who asked me if I wanted a coffee. Bloody cheek of it - I said I had paid nearly a year's salary (well, for some poor bastard in China) for a sarni and I was staying put until my train arrived - He said he was doing his job and I could not stay there all day. Who wants to sit in a Costa Coffee all friggin' day in an airport? I stood my ground and read right through to the sports section before legging it for my train. It was not all bad though - I somehow managed a 1st class seat, booking with trainline.com makes all the difference, so I was pampered all the way to Leeds.
Upon arrival in Leeds I struggled with the bags and through rush hour commuter traffic, got an other train to Keighley. Taxi from the station - in to the waiting arms of my beloved grandparents. And that's where I am now - Blogging from my granddad's office on a PC he has had for 5 years, and still has not managed to master interms of sending emails. Something I am sure I will get around to teaching him when I have a minute.
The update on the visa situation to grant me access to my wardrobe and life in San Francisco is that they cannot tell me if my papers have arrived from Canada, and they can give me an appoitment for an interview. However the interview will be terminated if the papers are not there - All a load of nonesense. I have emailed them and am waiting for a reply. If I get the B2 visa it will take approx 5 days - So I could be back in the States by the end of the month.
OK I am knackered, not funny and bored of talking about me - for a change so I bid you see thee - until next time.
x
PS It's started to snow here now - Bugger.
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