The End?
The staff at the Nest have given up saying goodbye to me: every time they do, I´m knocking on the front door again within five days or so.
It´s for practical reasons, this time - the ferry from Mallorca to Barcelona was fully booked all week, so I changed my flight back to London and came back to Valencia for a day.
Mallorca was great: I had a very relaxing Easter weekend. I spent a lot of time on the beach (I´m very brown), clambered on the rocky headlands, and wandered around the old town of Alcudia. It was, at one point, a Roman stronghold, so there were plenty of cool ruins to explore.
I was so busy with my jam-packed program of sloth that I didn´t have time to learn to dive - I´ll save that for another trip. I´m not sure I missed much - when I asked Jelly (the guy I stayed with) what there was to see in the bay, he said "oh, rocks, mud, fish... the odd bicycle."
One thing I did manage to do was jump back on the bookworm bandwagon. It will come as quite the surprise to those of you who have never known me not to have a novel in my bag (and who have even seen me read at the pub) that until last Thursday, I hadn´t read a single thing my entire time in Spain. I guess I´ve been busy doing all those things other people normally do while I´m reading. At any rate, Jelly had quite a library, and I think I managed to devour about five books over the weekend (thankfully, I hadn´t forgotten how).
It was possibly the first Easter of my life that failed to feature chocolate in a significant way. It did, however, feature a not insignificant amount of gin.
The only other notable thing about the weekend was the fact that Jelly has several dogs. Now, you know I´m not the world´s biggest dog person, but these dogs were friendly and well-behaved and we got on reasonably well. A house full of dogs is still a house full of dog, however, and upon my return to Valencia I was in fairly desperate need of laundry facilities to rid my clothing of fur.
This morning, therefore, having awoken with a vicious hangover (I only got off the ferry at 9:30pm last night, but Valencia did what Valencia does and within a few short hours I had been bewitched once more and was out dancing), I proceeded to put everything in my backpack into the wash, save what I was wearing (my sadly inferior B-list pyjamas). I attempted to go back to bed to sleep off the headache, but to no avail. I decided to head upstairs for a coffee, and in the interests of modesty (given my belief that one´s boxer shorts are best kept to one´s self) wrapped myself toga-style in a spare bedsheet, much to the delight and amusement of the hostel crew. When I discovered to my dismay that the coffee machine was broken, Steve managed to persuade me that the coffee shop down the street was a perfectly viable option.
Yes, my friends, I appeared on the streets of Valencia this morning wearing a toga.
To the amazed stares of passers-by (and more than a few car horns), Steve (in convulsions) and I (trying to saunter with dignity) walked to the cafe and had breakfast. By the time we were done I felt much better and proceeded almost without thinking into my favourite stationery store to buy a new pen (I´m going through them like you wouldn´t believe). There was a moment where I stepped on the corner of the sheet and nearly lost the whole ensemble, but luckily crisis was averted and my modesty protected.
I´m properly clothed, now, and have spent the rest of the day shopping (Lindy, you´ll be pleased to know that I am now the proud owner of a couple of items from the Zara spring collection) and having (another) farewell wander around Valencia.
It´s my favourite time of day now, Magic Light O´Clock, and I´m sitting in the park watching the fountain and writing to you all.
I can´t quite believe that the month is up, and that tomorrow I´ll be back in London. Finding a flat and a job seems so remote, yet that´s my next mission. Of course, if it´s too hard, there´s a job waiting for me here - as Cruise Director Jules, Chief Party Boat Executive of a new backpacker tour company.
There´s still so much I haven´t told you guys about - I´ve filled two and a half notebooks in Spain and there are many hilarious and embarassing anecdotes that I´ll have to remember to write about here. Like the time, for instance, I was offered an opportunity to write and star in a porn film, to be made, and I quote, "just the way (I) want it."
For now, I´m going to soak up the rest of the magic light and the spray from the fountain. I know it´ll be more than five days before I return this time, but hopefully not too many more.
Maybe ten.
Later, folks. In our next episode, jLo returns to the UK and tries in vain to break the habit of saying a cheery ´hola´ and ´gracias´ to everyone she meets.
Hasta luego.
It´s for practical reasons, this time - the ferry from Mallorca to Barcelona was fully booked all week, so I changed my flight back to London and came back to Valencia for a day.
Mallorca was great: I had a very relaxing Easter weekend. I spent a lot of time on the beach (I´m very brown), clambered on the rocky headlands, and wandered around the old town of Alcudia. It was, at one point, a Roman stronghold, so there were plenty of cool ruins to explore.
I was so busy with my jam-packed program of sloth that I didn´t have time to learn to dive - I´ll save that for another trip. I´m not sure I missed much - when I asked Jelly (the guy I stayed with) what there was to see in the bay, he said "oh, rocks, mud, fish... the odd bicycle."
One thing I did manage to do was jump back on the bookworm bandwagon. It will come as quite the surprise to those of you who have never known me not to have a novel in my bag (and who have even seen me read at the pub) that until last Thursday, I hadn´t read a single thing my entire time in Spain. I guess I´ve been busy doing all those things other people normally do while I´m reading. At any rate, Jelly had quite a library, and I think I managed to devour about five books over the weekend (thankfully, I hadn´t forgotten how).
It was possibly the first Easter of my life that failed to feature chocolate in a significant way. It did, however, feature a not insignificant amount of gin.
The only other notable thing about the weekend was the fact that Jelly has several dogs. Now, you know I´m not the world´s biggest dog person, but these dogs were friendly and well-behaved and we got on reasonably well. A house full of dogs is still a house full of dog, however, and upon my return to Valencia I was in fairly desperate need of laundry facilities to rid my clothing of fur.
This morning, therefore, having awoken with a vicious hangover (I only got off the ferry at 9:30pm last night, but Valencia did what Valencia does and within a few short hours I had been bewitched once more and was out dancing), I proceeded to put everything in my backpack into the wash, save what I was wearing (my sadly inferior B-list pyjamas). I attempted to go back to bed to sleep off the headache, but to no avail. I decided to head upstairs for a coffee, and in the interests of modesty (given my belief that one´s boxer shorts are best kept to one´s self) wrapped myself toga-style in a spare bedsheet, much to the delight and amusement of the hostel crew. When I discovered to my dismay that the coffee machine was broken, Steve managed to persuade me that the coffee shop down the street was a perfectly viable option.
Yes, my friends, I appeared on the streets of Valencia this morning wearing a toga.
To the amazed stares of passers-by (and more than a few car horns), Steve (in convulsions) and I (trying to saunter with dignity) walked to the cafe and had breakfast. By the time we were done I felt much better and proceeded almost without thinking into my favourite stationery store to buy a new pen (I´m going through them like you wouldn´t believe). There was a moment where I stepped on the corner of the sheet and nearly lost the whole ensemble, but luckily crisis was averted and my modesty protected.
I´m properly clothed, now, and have spent the rest of the day shopping (Lindy, you´ll be pleased to know that I am now the proud owner of a couple of items from the Zara spring collection) and having (another) farewell wander around Valencia.
It´s my favourite time of day now, Magic Light O´Clock, and I´m sitting in the park watching the fountain and writing to you all.
I can´t quite believe that the month is up, and that tomorrow I´ll be back in London. Finding a flat and a job seems so remote, yet that´s my next mission. Of course, if it´s too hard, there´s a job waiting for me here - as Cruise Director Jules, Chief Party Boat Executive of a new backpacker tour company.
There´s still so much I haven´t told you guys about - I´ve filled two and a half notebooks in Spain and there are many hilarious and embarassing anecdotes that I´ll have to remember to write about here. Like the time, for instance, I was offered an opportunity to write and star in a porn film, to be made, and I quote, "just the way (I) want it."
For now, I´m going to soak up the rest of the magic light and the spray from the fountain. I know it´ll be more than five days before I return this time, but hopefully not too many more.
Maybe ten.
Later, folks. In our next episode, jLo returns to the UK and tries in vain to break the habit of saying a cheery ´hola´ and ´gracias´ to everyone she meets.
Hasta luego.
posted by jLo at 8:36 PM
5 Comments:
Oh no! No more posts from sunny Valencia? Well, not for a couple of weeks anyway...How will I make it? Your latest blog is full with too many things that made me bug-eye and snigger my way through a few choked laughs (I am after all, at "work"). But one I just have to ask about: when is the porn film coming out? You cannot tell me that you turned that kind of offer down?
Total creative control over your own porn film is eveything any sane person has ever dreamed of. You're a fool for turning down that kind of offer. You'll never get full creative control in London.
In the interests of all of us living vicariously through the brief (excellent) snippets on your blog jLo, I have to insist you reconsider your plans and remain in your home-away-from-home for a little while longer. As the rain falls and the wind rattles the windows there's a lot of Valencia-dreaming happening! Anyway it sounds like there's plenty of employment & creative opportunities....
You think you guys are going to miss the Spanish posts? I've only been back in London for a handful of days and the pining has not yet abated.
And who's to say I knocked back the offer? Maybe, just maybe, I'm working up the greatest script idea the world has ever known... not, of course, that the script is necessarily all that important in such ventures. But still.
Never underestimate the value of a good porn script, jLo.
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