Spain trip Autumn 2015 – Journal, day one.
After a very early night (20.30) I got up at 02.00 which is a pretty good sleep for me. It allowed me to post a series of 15 photos of stormy skies on ePHOTOzine, the kind I hope we will be leaving behind for three weeks and three days. What usually happens with the Autumn trip though is that the UK gets an Indian Summer while Calpé gets its first rains. Not that it matters much to us. After all, we are not beach types and it never rains in bars. It never rains in El Corte Ingles either!
Packing quintuple checked, house checked, paperwork checked, scrubbed clean, bejewelled and cosmetically enhanced, I left for the airport with Garrath at 05.15. The very pleasant AA cab driver punctuated the ride with just enough conversation to make it pleasant but not enough to be intrusive. I wonder how many racists ride in his cab, receive his excellent, polite service and still hang on to their ridiculous prejudices?
During the waiting time at the airport I finally managed to complete bizarrely complex the online banking registration process for my bank account. Once allowed into the hallowed grounds within their electric fence that surrounds my money, I found that the service I required wasn’t available there so I had to phone. I successfully overcame what seemed like a squillion automated voice obstacles and got through to a real person, a very charming Indian lady who informed me that my call was unnecessary as I no longer have to inform them when I go overseas. AAAAAAAAAAARGH! I hate banks!
The boring, boarding process proceeded unremarkably as did taxiing and take off. Typically, the weather was gorgeous! The airport and the plane provides masses of sketch book and acerbic verse material. The usual quota of garrulous airheads is scenting the cabin with the perfume of their freshly bleached hair, groups of ‘Us Lads’ are noisily anticipating a holiday of which they will remember very little, older women with cheap perms and badly fitting false teeth are trying to engage their disaffected husbands in facile small talk – same old same old.
Fortunately, this being Wednesday, there are none of the Stag and Hen parties that make Thursday and Friday flights miserable. Jet 2 have tightened their policies considerably thank goodness. They now have a police presence on the “troublesome flights” (air stewardess speak) and those flights are ‘dry’ – no alcohol served, so hopefully when we are forced by circumstance to take one of the “troublesome flights” it will be less obnoxious.
Make no mistake, I have no problem with men in tutus and wings carrying magic wands, men dressed as Nuns, or anyone sporting bizarre fancy dress. I wish all Jellys, Traceys and Kayleighs well with their forthcoming nuptials and if they want to dress up prior to the big event, good on them. To each their own say I. What I do have a problem with is drunken, airhead morons trying to involve me in their noisy idea of fun and completely denying me privacy and quiet during the flight. To my utter delight the complete absence of stag and hen dos has made the flight out bliss.
In one of our favourite beachside bars now, drinking tea and coffee I might add. We had lunch at Mejias Tres then instead of going shopping – it can wait – took a stroll down Playa De La Fossa. It is very warm and sunny but with a delightful off the sea breeze. Sunshine, green tea and sea, what more could I possibly want?
We will prise ourselves away from this idyllic setting eventually, do the necessary shopping, return to the house which is fresh smelling and leak proof, thankfully. Phew! Then after putting the shopping away we will, no doubt, meander down to the local neighbourhood bar to take in the atmosphere and the odd drop of alcoholic beverage. Its tough but somebody has to do it!