Having booked it back in January because of the cheap flights, off I went to Lisbon this weekend, and I loved it - what a great city. I couldn´t quite get over that it was a capital because it really did seem like a small old town and it was notably different to Madrid, and Spain in general. All the houses were either painted white or bright colours like pink, green, yellow or blue and each roof was bright orange or "terracota". It was also very cobbly with lots of hills (almost like Edinburgh!) and there were little trams about everywhere (unlike Edinburgh! . don´t get me started). Unfortunately when we arrived it was raining and not too warm so our first stop was of course lunch. Maybe a stupid decision but we actually went for pizza instead of typical Portuguese food and mine had banana on it, which although doesn´t sound too good, was amaaazzing. A bottle of wine was also consumed (and we had started drinking on the plane at 10am that morning ;) ). After lunch, we did a lot of walking around and by this point I had already decided how great I thought the city was.
Our hostel was called "Home" and it was pretty cool, all decorated like a house with a sitting room, dining room and "study", and the people who worked there were fun and friendly. They also offer you a welcome drink which is a sort of cherry liquor in a shot glass, which Sarah and I made the mistake of downing straight away, when as we discovered afterwards, you are meant to sip on it. Oops. However, they did mess up our room allocation so the second night we had to sleep in the office. We didn´t go out the first night because I was basically dying from a number of coughing fits, not helped by the fact that after each fit I would go out for a cigarette, so we just chilled in our hostel room which was a four-bed dorm. The other guy in our room was a weird older English guy. He had set his alarm for 5.30am and didn´t wake up which meant there was a good hour of me getting angry until we decided it was time to wake him up. One of the hostel workers had also come in to wake him up, saying that he had a flight to catch, but he didn´t really move. Anyway, after a bit of shoving and "excuse me...excuse me" he sat up and laughed and just goes "Hey! How are you doing?"...freak. We asked him if he had a flight to catch, because of what we had heard from the hostel worker, and he said that it wasn´t until 10am. Strange. So then we asked him to turn his alarm off for a while if he wasn´t getting up. He went back to sleep. The alarm went off again. The fiasco continued for another half an hour. We also think he missed his flight as we were pretty sure he was with the "rowdy" group of annoying older bald men who had been in Lisbon for the Tottenham match and we had heard them leaving early on, chanting away Tottenham songs and generally being a "disturbance".
It ended up being a good thing that we didn´t go out though as it meant we weren´t hungover for the walking tour we had signed up for the next morning. Our tour guide, Hugo, was really cool and relaxed and I found it all pretty interesting, and again, beautiful. Luckily it wasn´t raining that day but it was still fairly "chilly". Anyway one of the things that I geekily found interesting was that Harry Potter actually has Portuguese influences. JK Rowling apparently taught English in Lisbon for a while and used certain aspects for inspiration. For example, school kids in Lisbon literally go around in black uniforms with black capes, we saw a few, and they literally looked like they attended Hogwarts! The character "Salazar Slytherin" was also taken from an evil Portuguese dictator called "Salazar".
The tour ended around late-lunchtime and by this time we seemed to have acquired two followers - Sim and Claire. We had met Sim the day before and she was nice and everything but didn´t have much chat. She was Lithuanian and looked like a sort of punk-hippy and I was probably a bit of a bitch making impressions of her voice later on. The other girl Claire, was Australian but lived in London and yeah, she had noooo chat. I mean she was DULL. Anyway after the tour they overheard we were going to find lunch somewhere so decided they would "tag along". After not long we realised that we didn´t really want to have lunch with them and so lied to them saying that I had to go back to the hostel to take medication for my cough. Lies! Anyway, it didn´t work because they then, being all nice and all, decided they would accompany me and wait. We weren´t even talking to them the whole journey back, we really didn´t understand why they wanted to hang around with us so much...even though we are, lets be honest, brilliant. We got back to the hostel and I said that I actually wanted to chill for a bit so we scuttled off to our room and waited about 20 minutes, hoping that they would leave. Of course they hadn´t though, and there they were waiting for us at the bar in reception. Great. So we went out with them before saying that we weren´t actually hungry and that they should go and eat if they were. Thank fuck. We got rid of them. That was a good hour and a half wasted. I don´t think we are very nice people...
We decided to stay in the hostel for dinner on Saturday night because we had heard good things about it. It was called "Mamma´s dinner" and "Mamma" was the old Portuguese woman who owned the hotel and she cooked a lovely three course meal of traditional Portuguese food for all of us. At the end, everyone was poured a shot glass of port and a toast was made to Mamma, how cute. (We didn´t down this one..) By this point, we had made other "friends", including another Australian girl called Abbie. Abbie was cool and I´m not going to lie, I think I fancied her a bit. We also got on like a "house on fire" as they say and we all went out on the hostel´s pub crawl together. The pub crawl had good intentions. The first bar was completely free for an hour, and we abused this by getting quite a few vodka lemonades, depsite the crowd. However, it wasn´t quite hitting us and the drinks were definitely not as strong as in Spain. I liked the atmosphere though because there seemed to be "no rules"...everyone could smoke inside and the streets were filled with people drinking outside. It was all pretty casual, so I felt a bit sorry for the American girls in the group who had come very dressed up. However, we later discovered that was in fact for the mission they were on of I think probably fucking a guy every night of their travels throughout Europe. They definitely got a lot of attention anyway, especially the girl we just called "legs" because her pins were so beautiful and long. The second bar was shit and we didn´t even get a drink because the bar was so crowded. We then contemplated going home but thought we should experience more of the nightlife so went on to the club. Again, we didn´t drink because it was about 10 euros for a test-tub-sized mixer, so we just decided to dance. I loved the dancing because it was all the early "noughties" hits like Flo Rida, Black Eyed Peas and Usher and despite the cock fest that was going on, literally there were about 3 other girls in the club, we had fun. I´m not saying being surrounded by guys is a bad thing, in fact most of them were pretty fit, but of course being European, the sleaziness took over and I wasn´t such a fan of someone brushing his cock up against me from behind.
Hungover the next morning with about 2 and half hours sleep, disappointing considering the night we had, we decided to just chill until we needed to leave for out flight. To be fair, I guess we had drunk quite a lot throughout the day and we abused happy hour slightly, drinking fish-bowl-sized glasses of wine for 1 euro. We talked to Abbie for a good two hours about her travels through Europe and the time seemed to pass. I was quite sad leaving, especially coming to work this morning, but oh well...will be travelling in the summer so I´m looking forward to that.
Monday 24 March 2014
Monday 17 March 2014
DAY 169: Las Fallas
We had done a wee project translation thing on Las Fallas in Valencia at university last year and so I was really excited that I had booked tickets to go this weekend, even if it was just for 24 hours. Sophie, Mei and I hopped on the bus with the "tour group" who we had gone to Salamanca with and were buzzing for the oncoming antics. Jorge, the group later, the one that we all thought was very lovely looking in Salamanca, was there aannnd he remembered my name - what a cutie (girly scream). Unfortunately though, and just my luck, Mei had already got with him on one of the other trips to Cádiz during Carnaval a couple of weeks ago so he was firmly in her eyes only.
Anyway off we went, riding at the back of the bus (coz we all rebelious n shit) with a group of oh so annoying American boys. I mean seriously, they were those kind of people who thought they were THE shit, pumping their "g" beats loudly and bashing their beer bottles about. I might not have minded so much if they were British, as anti-American as that sounds, but their voices saying "this is fucking awesome bro" all the time was just bloody annoying. On top of that, they blatently thought they were hot, and no, they were not even average-looking, they were ugly. Anyway, I´ll stop my bitching. We stopped off halfway along the journey so that everyone could pee and I decided at this point I would get on board with the drinking and bought myself a beer. Sophie was like "ooh Sarah you´re such a lad" and I was like "I´ve been twiddling my hair listening to Cheryl Cole on my ipod for an hour...think that makes me very far from it".
We arrived in Valencia, late of course, and the choice of the group was to either do your own thing or carry on the bus to the beach. We went to the beach. Mei wipped off her clothes off into her bikini, much to Jorge´s satisfaction, and we sat there drinking and playing games until the early evening.
Feeling slightly pissed, we got on the bus back to the centre and felt that food was in order, and so where else did we go, but Subway. Not my first choice, I´m quite a sucker for sitting down in a nice restaurant whilst we sip on vino and eat leisurely, but Subway was fine and I had my first ever foot-long. The rest of the night mainly just entailed more alcohol consumption around the streets, plazas and gardens of Valencia, which by the way, seemed like a completely different city to two weeks ago. There were so many people there, every single one of those people was drunk and every single bar, club and restaurant was open, filling to the brims. There were even queues in the corner shops as everyone went in to buy their alcohol for the big "botellón" (the Spanish word for a drinking party on the street).
I met a lot of people on this trip, which I always like doing. First, we have Rachel from the West Country, lovely girl who I bonded with over going to the toilet together. (Us girls always like doing that for some reason). As we ran along from the bridge where we were watching the fireworks to the restaurant which we had decided was the "designated peeing area" the owner of the restaurant stopped us and told us we needed to buy a drink this time or otherwise we couldn´t use the toilet. We obliged and each bought a big glass of red wine, obviously not needed, and got into a deep drunken chat about love, heartbreak and boyfriends. We arrived back at the bridge half an hour later being like "I love this girl" whilst everyone wondered what on earth we had been doing in the toilet for so long. Another group of memorable people I met were the Mexican girls. They were so friendly and so funny and when I told them I was from Scotland they got way too excited. Turns out that they, all from Cancun, are going to Scotland for "spring break". Not going to lie, I´m slightly confused, a group of girls going to Scotland for a wild week of partying instead of their hometown which is probably the main hotspot for "spring break" in the world, but oh well each to their own. I just hope they understand that the trip might just not be as wild and that parties on the beach in their bikinis are likely to be much less fun along the Scottish coastline. Finally, there were the other two American boys, Jake and...Cooper..Wow Cooper was drunk and I took this opportunity to tell him that this Polish guy called Tom, who was with us that night, was my twin brother, I had had a baby when I was 13 and that I was married to a guy called Abdul who was back in Edinburgh looking after my child. Cooper belived all of this and I had the time of my life telling him.
Al in all, I have to say Las Fallas wasn´t what I expected. I wanted to go because it is a big festival in Spain and I wanted to see the big statues and bonfires around the town get set alight. I actually wanted, for a change, to be a bit more "cultural". However, all the trip was a straight 24 hours or so of drinking. Fun, but could have done it in Madrid to be honest. My voice is dying today and I am looking forward to this afternoon´s siesta.
Anyway off we went, riding at the back of the bus (coz we all rebelious n shit) with a group of oh so annoying American boys. I mean seriously, they were those kind of people who thought they were THE shit, pumping their "g" beats loudly and bashing their beer bottles about. I might not have minded so much if they were British, as anti-American as that sounds, but their voices saying "this is fucking awesome bro" all the time was just bloody annoying. On top of that, they blatently thought they were hot, and no, they were not even average-looking, they were ugly. Anyway, I´ll stop my bitching. We stopped off halfway along the journey so that everyone could pee and I decided at this point I would get on board with the drinking and bought myself a beer. Sophie was like "ooh Sarah you´re such a lad" and I was like "I´ve been twiddling my hair listening to Cheryl Cole on my ipod for an hour...think that makes me very far from it".
We arrived in Valencia, late of course, and the choice of the group was to either do your own thing or carry on the bus to the beach. We went to the beach. Mei wipped off her clothes off into her bikini, much to Jorge´s satisfaction, and we sat there drinking and playing games until the early evening.
Feeling slightly pissed, we got on the bus back to the centre and felt that food was in order, and so where else did we go, but Subway. Not my first choice, I´m quite a sucker for sitting down in a nice restaurant whilst we sip on vino and eat leisurely, but Subway was fine and I had my first ever foot-long. The rest of the night mainly just entailed more alcohol consumption around the streets, plazas and gardens of Valencia, which by the way, seemed like a completely different city to two weeks ago. There were so many people there, every single one of those people was drunk and every single bar, club and restaurant was open, filling to the brims. There were even queues in the corner shops as everyone went in to buy their alcohol for the big "botellón" (the Spanish word for a drinking party on the street).
I met a lot of people on this trip, which I always like doing. First, we have Rachel from the West Country, lovely girl who I bonded with over going to the toilet together. (Us girls always like doing that for some reason). As we ran along from the bridge where we were watching the fireworks to the restaurant which we had decided was the "designated peeing area" the owner of the restaurant stopped us and told us we needed to buy a drink this time or otherwise we couldn´t use the toilet. We obliged and each bought a big glass of red wine, obviously not needed, and got into a deep drunken chat about love, heartbreak and boyfriends. We arrived back at the bridge half an hour later being like "I love this girl" whilst everyone wondered what on earth we had been doing in the toilet for so long. Another group of memorable people I met were the Mexican girls. They were so friendly and so funny and when I told them I was from Scotland they got way too excited. Turns out that they, all from Cancun, are going to Scotland for "spring break". Not going to lie, I´m slightly confused, a group of girls going to Scotland for a wild week of partying instead of their hometown which is probably the main hotspot for "spring break" in the world, but oh well each to their own. I just hope they understand that the trip might just not be as wild and that parties on the beach in their bikinis are likely to be much less fun along the Scottish coastline. Finally, there were the other two American boys, Jake and...Cooper..Wow Cooper was drunk and I took this opportunity to tell him that this Polish guy called Tom, who was with us that night, was my twin brother, I had had a baby when I was 13 and that I was married to a guy called Abdul who was back in Edinburgh looking after my child. Cooper belived all of this and I had the time of my life telling him.
Al in all, I have to say Las Fallas wasn´t what I expected. I wanted to go because it is a big festival in Spain and I wanted to see the big statues and bonfires around the town get set alight. I actually wanted, for a change, to be a bit more "cultural". However, all the trip was a straight 24 hours or so of drinking. Fun, but could have done it in Madrid to be honest. My voice is dying today and I am looking forward to this afternoon´s siesta.
Friday 14 March 2014
DAY 166: Me duele el pie
I love Mabel. If she knew how much I went on about her, she would find it creepy, but I do. She is so cool. And being the wee babe that she is, she recommended her hairdresser to me who says they will do it cheaper for me just because I´m her "friend". Oh Mabel you wee babe. And I´m going to get my hair done like hers haha.
I don´t think she was too impressed with me yesterday though as I arrived into work 45 minutes late, still drunk from the night before. I´m guessing it was pretty obvious anyway. After going out for dinner with a few friends, Lucy, Andrew and I decided to go to a foam party at Pacha. Knowing before I went in that this wasn´t going to be a good idea and that I needed to remember to go home early, I ended up (of course) getting drunk and (of course) getting absolutely soaked in the foam. You could have gone swimming in that club it was so foamy, and it was so bloody dirty as well with everyone grinding on each other all wet. I had done my hair all nicely before I went out as well, all curled, which I never do, but of course I came out of the club (at 4.40am) looking like a drowned rat. Anyway, I don´t get how this happens, but I must just go into a serious deep sleep after drinking, but I (of course) missed all my alarms and woke up, luckily, at 8.50am - ten minutes before work! Now being in Spain and all, it is quite the norm for employees to arrive late, getting in for 9.30 am when you are meant to arrive at 9 always goes unnoticed. However, 9.45am, the time at which I arrived, was pushing it a little and Mabel give me a bit of a mean look. I was definitely still drunk as well, giggling away to myself and dropping things, and then the hangover hit me later on in the day, once I had left.
So I´ve fucked up my foot a little, all of you lucky enough to receive my snapchats will know this. It´s pussy and bloody on the top, with a massive blister on the bottom, and it is slightly sprained. And yes, this is all from Wednesday night. And no, I do not know how I did it. Anyway, I am literally hobbling along in pain at the moment and wore 3 socks today to work, making me foot look ever so fat. Don´t know how I´m going to cope tomorrow though as I´m off to Valencia again, and seeing as it´s a day trip, there will probably be a lot of walking.
But yes, Valencia tomorrow for "Las Fallas", a Spanish festival involving setting things alight, parades and dressing up. Just like we did in Salamanca, we are getting on the bus at 10am in Madrid and leaving Valencia at 4am Sunday morning. Sunday will be a sleep day.
I don´t think she was too impressed with me yesterday though as I arrived into work 45 minutes late, still drunk from the night before. I´m guessing it was pretty obvious anyway. After going out for dinner with a few friends, Lucy, Andrew and I decided to go to a foam party at Pacha. Knowing before I went in that this wasn´t going to be a good idea and that I needed to remember to go home early, I ended up (of course) getting drunk and (of course) getting absolutely soaked in the foam. You could have gone swimming in that club it was so foamy, and it was so bloody dirty as well with everyone grinding on each other all wet. I had done my hair all nicely before I went out as well, all curled, which I never do, but of course I came out of the club (at 4.40am) looking like a drowned rat. Anyway, I don´t get how this happens, but I must just go into a serious deep sleep after drinking, but I (of course) missed all my alarms and woke up, luckily, at 8.50am - ten minutes before work! Now being in Spain and all, it is quite the norm for employees to arrive late, getting in for 9.30 am when you are meant to arrive at 9 always goes unnoticed. However, 9.45am, the time at which I arrived, was pushing it a little and Mabel give me a bit of a mean look. I was definitely still drunk as well, giggling away to myself and dropping things, and then the hangover hit me later on in the day, once I had left.
So I´ve fucked up my foot a little, all of you lucky enough to receive my snapchats will know this. It´s pussy and bloody on the top, with a massive blister on the bottom, and it is slightly sprained. And yes, this is all from Wednesday night. And no, I do not know how I did it. Anyway, I am literally hobbling along in pain at the moment and wore 3 socks today to work, making me foot look ever so fat. Don´t know how I´m going to cope tomorrow though as I´m off to Valencia again, and seeing as it´s a day trip, there will probably be a lot of walking.
But yes, Valencia tomorrow for "Las Fallas", a Spanish festival involving setting things alight, parades and dressing up. Just like we did in Salamanca, we are getting on the bus at 10am in Madrid and leaving Valencia at 4am Sunday morning. Sunday will be a sleep day.
Sunday 2 March 2014
DAY 155: Valencia
So after deciding to go on a very spontaneous holiday to Valencia for the weekend, we booked a car, booked a hostel and I faked tanned til my skin was orange - bring on the sun! I met Andrew and his flatmate, Margarida, along with two Greek people I didn't know and we headed to the car rental place, carrying bags of clothes, food and alcohol. On our way there we came across a traffic jam literally caused by a couple who had decided to stop in the middle of the road, put on their hazard lights and make out passionately in the front of the car, not even joking...they must be some seriously horny people.
As we started on our journey, Andrew wapped out this massive tank of mojito he had made along with plastic coffee cups with lids (sensible so that they don't spill in the car) and straws - perfection. We had probably passed about 15 minutes before I was on my third, much to the Greeks disbelief. You could see their faces wondering who these drunken Scottish people were. The car journey took a few hours, with me being the "dj" plugging in my ipod to the car, much to everyone's satisfaction I'm sure. Andrew and I got progressively more pissed as the others stayed sober and kept asking to stop the car so that we could both pee and smoke, such great people to travel with! We eventually arrived in Valencia at about 2am, where we had now missed check in and had to wait outside for someone to come and open up. Andrew and I were so desperate to go out at this point that we considered just changing and sleeping in the car, but then the fitty hostel man (who we couldn't work out how he was fit - he was bald) arrived and all was dandy. The Greeks and Magarida weren't too keen on going out, so Andrew and I abandoned them and hailed a cab of the main road. We just asked him to take us to a good and popular club and he was very wise with his selection as it was freaking awesome.
Part of the club was open air and then inside was all white with fit girls in sequined swimsuits dancing on podiums. We danced away, picking up masks as we went (it's the weekend of the Brazilian festival Carnaval) and drank more and more until the early hours, with perhaps a tactical chunder in between. Leaving the club at 6.30am, we unsuccessfully tried to google map our hostel and ended up walking for a good hour (although I must admit that part of that journey I was actually getting Andrew to push in me a shopping trolley we had found on the street). We got home at 8am, when it was already daylight, and crashed until about 12pm, trying not to wake the others up.
So of course the next morning (or afternoon, whatever) Andrew and I were in desperate need of food, so after watching the Carnaval fireworks in the main square, all of us went for a big lunch of paella and just a splash of beer. It was pretty evident to Andrew and me though that the Greeks were more interested in doing the cultural stuff, whilst Andrew and I just wanted to die. So we went our separate ways for a few hours, doing a bit of walking, a bit of mask shopping and ending up of course in an Irish pub. The beer there was rancid, but determined to get drunk again, we forced ourselves with a couple of pints, before finding ourselves sleepy and needing to go back to the hostel for a siesta. I didn't actually sleep, which was a bit shitty as later in the night I just could not hack anything. My belly was bloated and we were literally walking round the bars in Valencia with masks on and what I felt like a pregnant stomach. We did meet up with the Greeks and Margarida at this point, but it was clear by now that our conversations just didn't "flow". As we all arrived back at the hostel the Greeks were going on about this ancient Roman town they wanted to see as we left Valencia. Obviously, being the uncultural messes we are, Andrew and I were not pleased with this, so we suggested they got up at about 9 and went and did it and then we would all go the beach at lunchtime before our long journey back to Madrid. They agreed to this...
Well....the next morning we woke up at 10am and everyone was still in bed. Check out was at 11am and the Greeks (like they had been all weekend) were so slow at getting themselves out. As we eventually got into the car, Theo, the guy, said he would google map the beach, we didn't have time now to go to the Roman town - thank God. Well, the sly little fucker that he was gooogle mapped the Roman town instead of the beach and so took us the wrong way. How cheeky. We were passing a sign at a roundabout for the beach when Margarida said "Theo are sure it's not that way?" At this point Theo said, "See I would quite like to go to the Roman town so thats where I've been giving directions to." I was not impressed. I could feel my inner bitch coming out. "We agreed we would all go to the beach though because of the time" I said, and you could see Theo's face just bubbling with anger. I would not back down though, I was being a right dick to him and I didn't even care - it was sunny, I was tired and hangover and I never get to go to the beach. "But is there something special at the beach?" Antonia, the Greek girl asked and I was just like, err don't get all cultural and intelligent with me missy...(I didn't actually say that.) ANYWAY, what happened was we split up, the Greeks went to the Roman thing and the three of us went to the beach and it was sooo much fun and so nice and hot. We then pied out on tapas and ice cream, chilled in the sunshine and then headed back to meet them (and they were late - of course).
The journey home was dull, and after just 15 minutes of my music (even though I refrained from playing One Direction and Cheryl Cole) Theo abruptly asked if we could switch to his ipod. Eurgh. Now judging on appearances I was pretty sure we would be listening to some sort of heavy rock, Theo is long haired and pierced, he then proceeded to play song after song of Greek Eurovision songs! Wtf. Come on, a bit of Miley Cyrus and Will.i.am is better than that shit, no? He was bopping away and so was Antonia, so Andrew and I bitchyly put in our headphones. The journey ended with Margarida's music.
Anyway all in all it was a fantastic weekend. I now feel dead and disgusting and have some how hurt my leg and I think I have broken my toe. Oops!
As we started on our journey, Andrew wapped out this massive tank of mojito he had made along with plastic coffee cups with lids (sensible so that they don't spill in the car) and straws - perfection. We had probably passed about 15 minutes before I was on my third, much to the Greeks disbelief. You could see their faces wondering who these drunken Scottish people were. The car journey took a few hours, with me being the "dj" plugging in my ipod to the car, much to everyone's satisfaction I'm sure. Andrew and I got progressively more pissed as the others stayed sober and kept asking to stop the car so that we could both pee and smoke, such great people to travel with! We eventually arrived in Valencia at about 2am, where we had now missed check in and had to wait outside for someone to come and open up. Andrew and I were so desperate to go out at this point that we considered just changing and sleeping in the car, but then the fitty hostel man (who we couldn't work out how he was fit - he was bald) arrived and all was dandy. The Greeks and Magarida weren't too keen on going out, so Andrew and I abandoned them and hailed a cab of the main road. We just asked him to take us to a good and popular club and he was very wise with his selection as it was freaking awesome.
Part of the club was open air and then inside was all white with fit girls in sequined swimsuits dancing on podiums. We danced away, picking up masks as we went (it's the weekend of the Brazilian festival Carnaval) and drank more and more until the early hours, with perhaps a tactical chunder in between. Leaving the club at 6.30am, we unsuccessfully tried to google map our hostel and ended up walking for a good hour (although I must admit that part of that journey I was actually getting Andrew to push in me a shopping trolley we had found on the street). We got home at 8am, when it was already daylight, and crashed until about 12pm, trying not to wake the others up.
So of course the next morning (or afternoon, whatever) Andrew and I were in desperate need of food, so after watching the Carnaval fireworks in the main square, all of us went for a big lunch of paella and just a splash of beer. It was pretty evident to Andrew and me though that the Greeks were more interested in doing the cultural stuff, whilst Andrew and I just wanted to die. So we went our separate ways for a few hours, doing a bit of walking, a bit of mask shopping and ending up of course in an Irish pub. The beer there was rancid, but determined to get drunk again, we forced ourselves with a couple of pints, before finding ourselves sleepy and needing to go back to the hostel for a siesta. I didn't actually sleep, which was a bit shitty as later in the night I just could not hack anything. My belly was bloated and we were literally walking round the bars in Valencia with masks on and what I felt like a pregnant stomach. We did meet up with the Greeks and Margarida at this point, but it was clear by now that our conversations just didn't "flow". As we all arrived back at the hostel the Greeks were going on about this ancient Roman town they wanted to see as we left Valencia. Obviously, being the uncultural messes we are, Andrew and I were not pleased with this, so we suggested they got up at about 9 and went and did it and then we would all go the beach at lunchtime before our long journey back to Madrid. They agreed to this...
Well....the next morning we woke up at 10am and everyone was still in bed. Check out was at 11am and the Greeks (like they had been all weekend) were so slow at getting themselves out. As we eventually got into the car, Theo, the guy, said he would google map the beach, we didn't have time now to go to the Roman town - thank God. Well, the sly little fucker that he was gooogle mapped the Roman town instead of the beach and so took us the wrong way. How cheeky. We were passing a sign at a roundabout for the beach when Margarida said "Theo are sure it's not that way?" At this point Theo said, "See I would quite like to go to the Roman town so thats where I've been giving directions to." I was not impressed. I could feel my inner bitch coming out. "We agreed we would all go to the beach though because of the time" I said, and you could see Theo's face just bubbling with anger. I would not back down though, I was being a right dick to him and I didn't even care - it was sunny, I was tired and hangover and I never get to go to the beach. "But is there something special at the beach?" Antonia, the Greek girl asked and I was just like, err don't get all cultural and intelligent with me missy...(I didn't actually say that.) ANYWAY, what happened was we split up, the Greeks went to the Roman thing and the three of us went to the beach and it was sooo much fun and so nice and hot. We then pied out on tapas and ice cream, chilled in the sunshine and then headed back to meet them (and they were late - of course).
The journey home was dull, and after just 15 minutes of my music (even though I refrained from playing One Direction and Cheryl Cole) Theo abruptly asked if we could switch to his ipod. Eurgh. Now judging on appearances I was pretty sure we would be listening to some sort of heavy rock, Theo is long haired and pierced, he then proceeded to play song after song of Greek Eurovision songs! Wtf. Come on, a bit of Miley Cyrus and Will.i.am is better than that shit, no? He was bopping away and so was Antonia, so Andrew and I bitchyly put in our headphones. The journey ended with Margarida's music.
Anyway all in all it was a fantastic weekend. I now feel dead and disgusting and have some how hurt my leg and I think I have broken my toe. Oops!
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