Thursday: not enough sleep, woke up early. Got to the airport to find that Paula had to go back home for her passport. We got through security – no Paula. We waited at the gates – no Paula. We boarded the plane and got a call from Paula – she was at the gate. Phew! The airplane door closed and we began taxiing away . . . without Paula. Hmmm, that sentence makes me wonder, because I thought that you can’t have an ‘aa’ or ‘ii’ in an English word. Perhaps you can!
So there were just six of us: moi, Camille (French), Océane (French), Lauriane (French – met her for the first time at the airport), Krista (Dutch) and Roberto (Italian, first time meeting as well).
Ryanair should have a little slogan: “the sleepless airline” or “with announcements every ten minutes, we GUARANTEE you that you will not sleep a wink once on board!”
The hostal / hotel was very nice, and the cheapest I’ve been to, AND included breakfast for free. It even had a window in the bathroom to the bathroom next door! This was great fun as we were passing soap and whatever back and forth between the rooms, and trying to figure out if it was possible to spy on the girls while . . . well, never mind :) We found that Mallorca is occasionally known as ‘Little Amsterdam’, and the local languages may as well be German and English. The amount of people we stopped and talked to who didn’t speak Spanish was amazing.
We went to Subway for lunch (first time in Europe) and it was a little different, ridiculously ball-shrivelling expensive, but very tasty. I’ll have to take Andrea along when she gets here :). We celebrated by having a toast: “to Paula!”
We hired a car for two days and went cruising around the island, saw some kick-ass castles and caves, marvelled at the need to stay on a roundabout while going in circles as the girls figure out which exit we should take, and played some stupid car games. We had lunch on the beach twice, saw little villages that look like how you’d imagine Spain to look like, we bumped into friends of Lauriane’s at the same hostel as us (and later in a small town as well).
We had dinner in a Chinese restaurant (with another “to Paula!” toast), had dinner in a Mallorcan restaurant (“to Paula!”) and Camille was horrified when the seafood she had ordered turned out to be octupus and not fish. And then the fuckers had the balls to charge us €4 for the complimentary bread that we didn’t want. Grrrrr.
Later on we went to a karaoke bar, the first time in my life (hopefully the last), and was charged €7 for a drink. I mean, seriously, I’ve had cheaper drinks in whore houses (is he joking, or has been keeping some things to himself...?). The group had two songs, the first from the Beatles, and then Krista and I had a duet with Let Me Entertain You, which was by far the most in-key and least-crap sounding song we’d heard all night. The drunk Spanish girls on the other table had 3 songs in a row, and decided that volume mattered above anything else.
Maybe I'm taking karaoke a little too seriously...
So that put us in a musical mood for the rest of the night, and for the second trip in a row I had to spell out the lyrics to Moulin Rouge.
We took a nice walk through a mountain and began singing Monty Python songs and going through some of their more famous routines, which is always a good way of passing the time. And whenever we had the chance, we toasted “to Paula!”. I may have mentioned that a few times, but it never stopped being funny.
One night we started to walk along a few piers, only to find that we were splitting up – the perfect setup for a horror movie. All we had to do is let Krista go off to find Roberto while the rest of us took shelter in the abandoned house. Camille could go off and have a sultry shower while everyone else could keep our backs turned to the closets.
We played several card games, the weather was awesome, Oisin rocks at pool, and the girls on the street seemed to get pissed at us for thinking that €12 entry for 2 ‘free drinks’ into a club is not worth it (as if we were wasting their time, even). We did manage to score some free drinks and free shots of some pink goo, but it was all good. And Holy shit! A crack-whore anorexic bimbo with 80’s hair in a club! We think she was there to promote the place by dancing in front of the window. Now I just have to return with crack, shoulder pads and serious issues of body image.
Possibly the best photo ever taken.
Roberto and I have decided the best reason for having kids is to stock up on Star Wars Lego. Where the hell was this shit when I was kid??? I want a Lego Millenium Falcon!
All in all, this was a great trip, and there wasn’t any waiting for anyone, and more fun than Oslo. Good people. Makes us wonder just who Paula is, since I still haven’t met her!
The gang. Left to right: Roberto, Lauriane, Me, Krista (in the front), Océane and Camille.
Also, at my most accurate, I think I’ve notched up 137 flights in my life, 12 of those being in this year. I thought I was up around 150, but I’m not far off. Might even get there next year!
3 comments:
Roberto looks like Ben Stiller.
And Mallorca looks fun. If I ever get back to Europe, maybe I can swing by there sometime.
Haha that's a really funny story, although I rock more at pool!
To paula! Ad fundum...
p.s. I had to type in bacity to access the comments, does that actually mean anything or is it just a coincidence that the letters form a pronunciable word..
The word verifications have been very pronouncable lately. Mine today is "citil." Then again, sometimes it's a real word. Like in one of Oisin's last posts, it was "cults." heheheh.
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