Nutshell.

I return, my children! Fear not for my safety. I have merely been delayed from updating this blog by the general crapness of technology.

So clearly I’m not going to update you comprehensively on my exploits. Shenanigans really. But I’ll get you through the end of Spain.

Went to Granada – where Monique and Jo became pock covered freaks and I got a nice olivey tan. Our hostel was infested with bed bugs, but it also had tap beer that was left totally unguarded at night. You win some, you lose some. This oversight in security somehow ended in me, Monique and Brisbane Dan crashing a party across the 1m wide cobblestone street. I apparently was heard to call through the mail flap “Quiero fiesta! Me querio fiesta!” Dignity aside, we were eventually invited in and a great inter-cultural exchange was had by all.

Apart from being really, really classy we did do stuff. Culture stuff. Saw flamenco in an underground tiny white hall and spent half of the time trying to figure out if I’d sound local or stupid if I called out Ole! Decided on stupid so I just took photos the whole time which made me look really local.



Went to the Alhambra. Never before have I so much wanted to have go-go-Gadget powers. I was walking though these gorgeous halls thinking ‘Go-go-Gadget shovel arms!’ and how much I hate all tourists in the world who are not me. Felt particularly aggrieved seeing as I had never heard of the bloody Alhambra before in my life.



Then, you know, went to Barcelona. Had an overnight train which is never a good idea. Especially if you are by yourself in the back corner and surrounded by very annoying people who are most likely gypsies. I have a great, great fear of gypsies. I think most people in Europe are in fact gypsies and their sole aim in life is to wait for a slip in my amazing concentration to rob me of all of my possessions. And then probably put a hex on me. And then laugh in their caravans while dancing a jig and swallowing swords. Anyway the gypsies/annoying people kept feeding their kids chocolate milkshakes at 2am and shouting. My Spanish being pretty much limited to crashing, not complaining about, loud parties I could only try and catch their eye and make a really angry “what the?” gesture. However, the only person who look at me was a ten year old gir and I was wearing a sleeping mask which said ‘Do Not Disturb’. I stared that bitch down though. Now that’s hard core.

Anyway, this is a long entry. Barcelona was nice. They have like, famous buildings and stuff.