I'm BACK from BEARcelona.
OK, so I had quite a good time away, many funny anecdotes to tell.
Firstly, I had 4 days in Barcelona, where, I was dimayed, and slightly titlated to discover, like a naughty child who had just learned that sticking chewing gum on the sofa would, like, TOTALLY enrage mother, that the annual BEARcelona festival was on.
Well, I'm just SO glad I had spent every morning for the past month jogging at 6.00am to get rid of my goose fat laden Christmas dinner that was hanging around my middle like Lindsay Lohan at the back door of the late bar...
Anyway, in summary, it rained solid for 3 days and I was pretty miserable. One of the more perky days involved a little "race around the world" type task where I did have to wait an exhausting amount of time hanging around the railway station, waiting to buy a ticket to France, like some American teenage Eurail cheerleader in the 80's. *shudder* God I hate mass transit.
The episode that amused me the most in this saga was appraching the SNCF (or spanish equivalent) desk, prior to joining the queue, just to ask if this was, in fact, the correct queue to join to purchase a rail ticket to France.
Me: "Ola, Habla inglese por favor?"
Woman at desk: Stunned silence (as if I had just asked "hfasdfhn akjdhfalk hfkhuuhhjh muuuunie muuuuu"
Me: "sorry, do you speak english please?"
Woman at desk: "Oh no, not here. you'll have to join that queue and they'll speak english there."
I then, nearly wetting myself with laughter and slightly hysterical, damp and hungry, proceeded to take a ticket for the queue (100 places long) then make my way to the bar, and get drunk.
And it was only 10.30am. Luckily for me, I wrote a lovely tale of my observations, which I will follow in the next post for your reading pleasure (or pain, if you're on my side).
Manana.
x
Firstly, I had 4 days in Barcelona, where, I was dimayed, and slightly titlated to discover, like a naughty child who had just learned that sticking chewing gum on the sofa would, like, TOTALLY enrage mother, that the annual BEARcelona festival was on.
Well, I'm just SO glad I had spent every morning for the past month jogging at 6.00am to get rid of my goose fat laden Christmas dinner that was hanging around my middle like Lindsay Lohan at the back door of the late bar...
Anyway, in summary, it rained solid for 3 days and I was pretty miserable. One of the more perky days involved a little "race around the world" type task where I did have to wait an exhausting amount of time hanging around the railway station, waiting to buy a ticket to France, like some American teenage Eurail cheerleader in the 80's. *shudder* God I hate mass transit.
The episode that amused me the most in this saga was appraching the SNCF (or spanish equivalent) desk, prior to joining the queue, just to ask if this was, in fact, the correct queue to join to purchase a rail ticket to France.
Me: "Ola, Habla inglese por favor?"
Woman at desk: Stunned silence (as if I had just asked "hfasdfhn akjdhfalk hfkhuuhhjh muuuunie muuuuu"
Me: "sorry, do you speak english please?"
Woman at desk: "Oh no, not here. you'll have to join that queue and they'll speak english there."
I then, nearly wetting myself with laughter and slightly hysterical, damp and hungry, proceeded to take a ticket for the queue (100 places long) then make my way to the bar, and get drunk.
And it was only 10.30am. Luckily for me, I wrote a lovely tale of my observations, which I will follow in the next post for your reading pleasure (or pain, if you're on my side).
Manana.
x
Labels: Vacation
posted by Eddie Knittster at 8:30 pm
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