Airports humidity and sleep deprevation

...Having had to take someone to the airport at 0345 on Wednesday morning, I haven't been drinking for a couple of days. Hence the comment from one of my blog groupies on the previous blog. But it was quite right, when I went into the marina and asked for a diet coke, there was a look of incredulity about Pedro. But later today we are meeting up with Laurence and Tony as they are off to the UK for a few weeks tomorrow.

Now as you know a lot of the source material for these blogs comes from that very bar and I mentioned before that now it is summer, they can place a number of seats on the other side of the road from 4 pm due to the road being closed to traffic. Later there is a street market on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays. The other day I was sat drinking a mahou and two Policia local officers went by with a clip board and pen counting tables. So I asked Antonio what they were doing, he told me: "dey are counting tables for tax, I pay at end of summer". Which reminded me of a number of rules and regulations applied and enforced by them.

One day two street buskers arrived and started to play tunes, one had a guitar and the other an accordion. It is illegal to play on the street without a proper licence, and you can't get a proper licence for busking, so anyone singing at a bar and then going round with a hat etc. is breaking the law. The enforcement is usually having their instruments confiscated. So as these buskers were playing, una paloma blanca, and Spanish eyes, I could see two Policia coming towards the bar, at the last minute they did too and cut short the last tune and 'ran' round with the hat before they got their collar felt by el plod. The guitarist was off like a rocket, the accordion player went around the corner out of sight, then gently strolled back minus accordion. The Policia by this time were on the corner facing the beach clearly looking for 2 people with musical instruments. Then the accordionist came past again this time pulling a shopping trolley clearly to put the instrument in when he retrieved it, the type old ladies have in the UK on wheels with a canvass bag. He again went round the corner and came back strolling past the bar whispering in a loud voice "I be back tomorrow".... I did hope not.

Just as in England, Spain has hygiene rules and they send out council officials to ensure the rules are applied. The other day I was walking up to the shop to help my wife lift a heavy book shelf, when I met another of the shop assistants, Julie. She said: "Have you seen them"? I replied: "What". She said: "Are you going up to the shop"? "yes" I said. "I'll let it be a surprise" and off she went. When I got in Ange had her 'I am not impressed' face on. "Look at these" she said and proceeded to produce several overalls or tabbards I believe they call them, from under the counter. "We have been asked to pick the one we like". I thought well that's a good idea a bit of employee consultation get the best design and then get enough in for the staff. In fact I voiced my approval to Ange who nearly chewed my head off. "No, we have to choose one of them. Its going over your head isn't it Bob"? She then showed me one at a time."there is this lovely green number, with stains down the front and a label has been ripped off, there is this white one with a pocket and a rip sewn up, Oh, there is this one with 'Swissair' on the front. Julie has picked hers I have picked mine Sally and Rita have to yet," She was not happy. It seems the hygiene people had been in and tore a strip off nearly every procedure in the shop, one of which being the lack of tabbards for staff. So the owner always on the lookout for a bargain, managed to acquire a number of said tabbards. Anyway as I was not likely to see any mood shift in a positive direction, I made my excuses and left. last night I went in at about 6 pm and she was there wearing it....she had the white one with orange piping, the pocket and sewn up tear. Call me a coward but I thought I would not refer to it at all.

Back at the bar yesterday afternoon I managed to get a couple of beers and Jesus (pronounced eezoos) was in a strangely good humour. Normally he is Mr annoying and Mr Angry rolled into one. I said "Jesu tu es mucho tranqillo"(you are very calm) he just smiled and went to a table with four people who seemed to be German. He was chatting and off he went with an order came back with the order and gave them menus. Now the marina bar is not cordon bleu quisine, its more transport cafe than restaurant, but it has a varied selection. You can get burgers, chips, sepia a la plancha, calamaris, pork, bacon, etc and they do various baguettes with hot or cold fillings. The Germans placed their order and he returned with it. As he passed me he said "mucho tranqillo huh, not weeth bloody them" I am not too sure how they managed it, but in an instant they transformed Jesus back into his former irritable self.

It gets very hot in August and we are all suffering with the humidity, Its practically impossible to stay cool in the evening and throughout the night. Even if you have air conditioning it can be expensive to keep it on. On top of that, the other night when I was going to take my friends niece to the airport at 0345 I had to go to bed earlier than normal, so I estimated that if I went to bed at say 9 pm and got up at 2, and then went back to bed for a couple of hours at 5 in the morning I should be OK. Jonathan's sister had arrived on holiday with her son Joseph, so they were off for a Chinese and then going to heroes, they invited us but as I had this appointment I declined but said to Ange she may as well join them at heroes. Which is what she did. I went to bed. Boy is my timing perfect? Apart from the heat and the humidity, it was still light when I got in bed and i could hear all the kids in the pool, "mama", "Papa" followed by the odd scream and that gurgling sound they make when they have swallowed half the pool (why do they do that). As their noise abated, there was a rumble a kind of base noise...I had forgotten, they had set up a screen on the beach and were going to show a feature film, this is only yards from my apartment. This went on until 11.15 pm.

I thought now I get a chance to sleep, when all of a sudden, yes you guessed it someone dropped the marble on the tiled floor, and then those above decided they didn't like where the furniture was and it was too heavy to lift so they slid it all over the room. And not only the Senora of the house but I am convinced that the Senor too were wearing high heel shoes, so much was the clatter that it sounded like the horses hooves in Ben Hur the classic chariot race film. And somewhere in the block a baby had decided to throw a screaming paddy. Then my alarm went off. And Ange wasn't home yet.

So! I thought sod it I will get a shower, couldn't have anything to drink except soft drinks or tea, so I had tea and then coke hoping the caffeine would keep me alert for the 90 min round trip drive.

I logged on line to try and find a chat room with someone in I knew, but alas I was on the wrong shift. Even my nocturnal mate Julie was pushing out the z's. Then Ange arrived home proclaiming what a lovely night she had, and that she had only been on shandy too. (Not to mention the half bottle of wine she had before she went out.) At 0340 I went to pick Roslyn up and take her to the airport, and I arrived home at 5 am ish. My first job was to have a glass of bells whiskey by way of a de-stresser. Once drank I went to bed and maybe got 2 hours of sleep. So the moral of this tale is, if your friend asks you to take someone to the airport in the early hours of the morning, tell them to sod off...