Strange title, strange day! You just know when it is going to be one of those days when things just aren't the same. First off Lanzarote Larry had gone awol. To be replaced by Fatboy Lard, a peroxide DJ from yesteryear. Most of the kit but not the look. The Beats headphones are €20 bad fakes from one of those quality Chinese shops that I told you about the other day. Perhaps it is people such as he that buy those salt & pepper pots? He even posed for the picture.
Not even a laptop with stickers - much more subdued than Larry and off the beat. Next major decision of the day after a mornings sun bathing (and tragically listening to the failed 2nd Test in the Ashes) is what to do for lunch. The hotel catering is okay but up until yesterday they didn't even have a menu. The other challenge is our fellow hotel guests. All I can say is that quite a few of them have ended up here on budget packages put together by the airlines, Travelzoo and Thomsons at the last minute due to the delays in the opening of the hotel proper. I am not saying that they are all rough as whatsit but I bet you will not see any of them back here when the hotel is fully up and running and charging full price. One of these guests, Coughing Carol, another native of the Tyne area, was not the ideal person to be near when eating. Carol, now in her 70/80s, undoubtedly consumed 40 or so ciggies a day in the past. To say she had a hacking cough was an understatement. By breakfast she had coughed up one lung, afternoon by the pool the other lung and by dinner she was trying very hard to eject her spleen. Decision made, a trip to Spar to purchase some meats, cheese, wine and salty snacks and a leisurely lunch on our balcony.
A very nice Rioja form Faustino V, a Reserva no less. £15 in Waitrose, £6 in Spar! Note the Lays which is a misspelling of Walkers - the same company. After all this a long afternoon snooze was required, a siesta no less.
Then on to the evenings activities. Holidays wouldn't be holidays without Mrs CT indulging in her favourite pastime - shopping. I had overheard someone saying that on Friday night there was a craft market in the local square (just near to our favourite restaurant Mercado). She didn't need asking twice
Purchase of floaty silky things and some hand made jewellery all made with my money - how does that work? So we have had a change of DJ and home made lunch, what else would surprise us today. The picture gives an idea of the location of the market nestled in amongst tress and surrounded by restaurants and bars.
When looking at the 27th jewellery stall of the night, I felt something hit my head and then worryingly dribble down the side of my face. Investigating with fingers through my hair, I realised the worst, massive pigeon poo. Mrs CT thought this hilarious, ha bloody ha. She did try her best to remove most of the solids but as some of you know I have quite curly hair which hangs on to any thing that may enter. Back to the hotel then for a wash and change of shirt - NO - she made me go to yet more shopping outlets for strappy sandals. Apparently a girl can never have too many.
Two pairs later I was eventually allowed back to wash the now dried and crusty poo from my hair. So nice to know where your wife's priorities lie in times of need. On the upside, I believe that being pooed on (is that a real word?) is meant to bring good luck. I wonder what will happen? To me, nothing. To my mates at home not 10 minutes after poogate, they won 5 prizes at the Club meat raffle and were delighted to tell me so by text.
Sod this I am going to bed before anything else weird happens.
Laters!
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