Barcelona (Part Five)

Well, it's finally here. The final episode of my trip to Barcelona.

I was woken several times during the night, particularly at 5.45 when someone was watching loud TV next door. My alarm went off at 8.30 and I got up at 8.40, after snoozing for a while. I then discovered that if all the lights are off, then all electricity in the room is off so my phone hadn't been charging all night and now had low battery. Great. I'm going home with no phone. I had egg, bacon, BAKED beans, toast (mmm), tea and juice (gonna need to lose weight soon), picked up my packed lunch and said goodbye to the mother and daughter I shared a transfer with when I first arrived. Thank you for keeping me company!

I then discovered that the reason there was no music last night was that when I was in Barcelona the previous day, a father and son had been killed while posing for a photograph at Tossa beach. The family had been staying at the hotel. It was a very sad event. I later heard the full story on GMTV morning news. You can read the full story here which corrects what I was told at the hotel.

I had noticed on the day when I walked round Tossa de Mar that the waves seemed extremely strong around the beach. I am very sorry for the family's loss.

I went back to my room and packed, checking items against my original list as they went into my bag. Hoping I had everything, I left the room and returned my keycard at Reception, five minutes before check-out at 10.

I walked back to the shop where I bought postcards and my camera and browsed for a little while. I went back to the hotel and rang Resorthoppa to confirm the pick-up time and place. It then began to rain. It had been forecast to rain every day I'd been there but it had held off until I left. Obviously Spain was sad to see me go.

I sat and waited, praying that everything went okay to get me back home. I went outside and stood under the hotel's canopy at 10.55, waiting for the taxi transfer. About 2 minutes later, a taxi pulled up and a man came out and shouted 'Girona Airport', mainly to me. I nodded and ran forward, putting my suitcase in the boot.

We were off, and I double-checked that, a) we were going to Girona airport, b) we'd get there in time for my flight, and c) I wasn't paying him! He muttered something about not being able to control the meter.

I kept my eyes peeled for roadsigns along the way as soon as I realised I didn't recognise the road, I ain't being kidnapped!

But I arrived at the airport at 11.40. I checked my bags, passport and flight details, and then thanked the driver. I made a note of the gate number and sat down, watching the clock, and my bags.

The queue for checking-in was huge, it spanned the length of the airport. Forget that, I thought, no magic queue-destroying toilets here. So I sat and waited for the queue to dwindle before joining it a few people behind the desk. At 12.50, I checked-in and went into the departure lounge. I bought some food for the flight and saw a big queue already at Gate 8, and as that one actually determined the seat I got on the plane, I joined it straight away. And I'm glad I did, as soon that queue was the length of the departure lounge. I waited for 20 minutes and then got through. I went round to the back entrance of the plane as there was a big queue for the front and there was no one round at the back. Isn't the public smart? I turned my mobile off and got a window seat. This time, two people sat next to me but I didn't mind. I wasn't in the middle seat.

The pilot announced that there might be turbulence over France, great, I LOVE turbulence. The plane left on time and I looked down at the dramatic landscape, Spain is much more mountainous that I thought.

The seatbelt sign went off and I ate my food. I found that if you relax and read or eat then the flight is much more comfortable. Usually I just sit there stessing about claustrophobia etc but I was fine going back. Another lesson learned. The Pyranees looked lovely, covered in snow. The air clouded up until we reached France, and then there was no turbulence.

Well, I thought, I've broken my last food links to Tossa Beach, unless I vomit up breakfast, or something equally as bad, like last night's dinner.

The descent started at 14.30, thankfully my head wasn't as painful that time. I saw my bottle of water crumple up under the pressure change and thought, that's what my head is trying to do.

We landed 25 minutes early at 15.00, which is good. I found that I didn't particularly like RyanAir, apparently they're the worst airline environmentally, I read that somewhere. But this article doesn't improve my thoughts on that airline. I might even avoid flying with them in the future, despite arriving early on both journeys.

There was a huge queue at Passport Control but it was quite fast moving. I came out to the carousel and the very first bag I saw was mine, I ran to catch it before it disappeared and left the airport quickly. How painless was that! I hoped that my luck would continue. I went to the toilet (nothing I can miss now) and then went outside to the Derby bus stop. Hmm... there's just a dot where it should say how long til the next bus. I asked at the Information desk and they said it should arrive any minute. A few minutes later, the screen changed and said Derby - 30 mins. But the bus actually arrived 8 minutes later. I bought a ticket to Derby train station (£2.80). The bus got very crowded but I had a seat. The driver seemed very friendly, no bus driver in Birmingham is as friendly as that.

There was a nice woman behind me helping a foreign family out, who were going to the train station too. I think I heard the bus driver call her Dot. But she asked the driver to let the family know when they were at the station, which he did do. I bought a ticket to my closest station for £10, back to the land of extortion. Two minutes wait and then a train to Cardiff Central, next stop B'ham New Street arrived. My luck continued.

Forty minutes later, at 17.30, I got to Birmingham New Street and there was a 4 minute wait for the next train to my house. It all worked well in the end.

I got home at 18.10, with a sausage casserole and my family waiting for me.

It was a great trip, and I did it all for under £230, I had just over 1 Euro left in change. I was so glad to be home after a successful holiday.

Barcelona (Part Four)

The big trip - Barcelona!

Well I needed a good night's sleep. And that just didn't happen. The karaoke or whatever downstairs in the bar kept me awake (even with properly inserted earplugs - which I'd never managed to do before - and two Sleep Aids) until gone midnight. Grrgh.

I got up at 9 and went straight down for breakfast. I just had a couple of pieces of toast and a cup of tea because I was a bit nervous. I picked up my packed lunch and ordered another for the next day. Then I rang Resorthoppa and arranged my pick-up for the next day - 11am outside the hotel.

I left the hotel at 9.45 and walked up to the bus station. There was a British couple in front of me buying tickets to Barcelona but when she told them the price they stormed off muttering about extortion - not 9 Euros to see one of the nicest cities in the world!

I stepped up to the counter and she printed a ticket to Barcelona and pointed at the price. I didn't even have to say anything, I was a bit disappointed, I'd been practising. Just over 9 Euros, not bad for a 90km trip. I sat near the buses, needing the toilet. But I wasn't going to make THAT mistake again! I waited for almost 10 minutes and then my bus arrived and opened at 9.55. I showed the driver my ticket and double-checked that it actually went to Barcelona. I don't trust signs anymore. The bus was very empty and left 5 minutes early at 10.05. As we left the roundabout with the random swirly thing in the middle a British family ran up shouting angrily. The driver ignored them and kept driving.

The only way to really describe the bus was - vibratey. All the seats shuddered with the engine. But it was comfortable enough. No toilet though!

It headed up into the forested hills and did some death-defying stunts, narrowly avoiding throwing itself off into the trees and rocks in the valley below. The bus was very warm inside but outside it was 16C, there was a display at the front of the bus.

It pulled into Lloret de Mar, the only other stop, and the bus quickly filled up, no seats left and now even hotter! The bus was back on its way at 10.25 and we passed a mock Tudor-style building with a sign saying 'Queen Vic' and a children's playpark called 'Gnomo Park', which I thought was funny. The rest of the trip was uneventful until we stopped at Barcelona bus station at 11.20 and the temperature was now 20C.

I got off and headed off straight away to find a toilet. I finally found one after 10 minutes of following signs in a big circle. I found the right desk to buy a ticket back to Tossa de Mar and bought one, just in case, it was another 9 Euros. I put the ticket safely in my wallet and left the bus station. I made a careful note of the street name, I didn't plan to get lost in Barcelona. I didn't quite know what to do first so I looked around and spotted something pretty behind a park and some buildings. I headed that way and it turned out to be the Arc de Triomf! The first thing on my list!

Hmm, that van was just waiting for me to take that picture wasn't it.

I then wander down past the Arc de Triomf to the Parc de la Ciutedella and sat in front of Gaudi's fountain to eat my packed lunch, which consisted of 2 sandwiches, one ham, the other cheese, with no butter on either, a bottle of water and a manky apple. I threw the apple away but ate the sandwiches, checking each bite for bugs or anything. I rang home from there to let them know I was in Barcelona safely.

After my early lunch (about 12), I wandered back to the Arc de Triomf and go down into the Metro station. It was very similar to London's underground, stalls selling over-priced food and rubbishy souvenirs and quite a lot of people. I made my way to a ticket machine and fiddled with it for a bit. Nope, no English. And my Spanish wasn't good enough to deicpher the different types of ticket. I went down further into the station, scared that this meant I might have had to walk to everywhere I wanted to see. Downstairs, there was a woman with a jacket that said 'Informacion' on, standing next to a different kind of ticket machine. So, with lots of broken English and Spanish, and wild pointing and gesturing, she helped me buy a single-trip ticket to Sagrada Familia station. This cost me 1 Euro 25, much cheaper than London!

It was nice to get into a cool, air-conditioned carriage (why can't London do this! Apparently London held a competition where people could suggest ways to cool the underground trains down but all the suggestions were discounted as being impossible to implement - over 1,000 ideas! Although this scheme and this scheme look interesting. I love underground systems, I wish Birmingham had one. But soon I'll be in Tokyo, where the subway rules.

I changed at Universitat, keeping a close eye on my pockets and bag, as instructed by the gestures of the nice woman at Arc de Triomf, and then emerged from Sagrada Familia. You don't even have to put your ticket in at the exit, they just trust you that you bought a correct ticket at the start of your journey. Although a few years ago, I read about a BBC Science study that said that Spaniards were the most selfish race on Earth, and Japanese were the least. The test was something to do with how much money each race would demand and how much they would leave for someone else. I can't find it on the Internet anymore, as I say, it was years ago.

Anyway, I came out of Sagrada Familia station, turned around, and wow.

So big and pretty! You can read more about La Sagrada Familia here but the basic idea is that it's a huge cathedral, designed by Antoni Gaudi many years ago, and, even though he's long dead, they are still building it according to his original design, and it will take many more years, probably centuries, before it is completed.

It took forever to find the entrance but I got there. 10 Euros for an adult! Forget that, I used my out-of-date NUS card to get in for 5 Euros and went up to the main entrance at 13.15.

I saw a Chav with an estrella shaved into the back of his head, which is only funny if you're familiar with the old UK Chav phrase 'Star!'

I joined the queue for the lift to the top and paid my 2 Euros. I didn't mind paying that. It was a very long wait but there was plenty to look at inside the cathedral. It did look slightly buildingsite-like but it was still very impressive.

At 14.00, I made it to the front of the queue and went up in a very crowded lift to the top.

Once I got to the 'top', I realised that there were now stairs to the actual top. And I was already pretty high. I headed up stairs, taking photos through gaps in the stone as I went.

















There were some very nice views of the city, including Barcelona's version of the Gherkin in London. There was an omni-present haze over the city, which was either mist or pollution, or both. It was fresher that day, than the day before when I went round Tossa de Mar.

I then took the long, winding walk down the spiral stairs, to the very bottom.

I then wandered through the shop and museum. There was a huge board in Japanese in the museum about a Japanese architect who took lots of his inspiration from Gaudi. I did start to read it but gave up when I saw how much there was and checked the time.

I did find time to buy a model Sagrada Familia for the mantelpiece in my room which has models of locations from countries all over the world. That cost me 4 Euros, not too bad.

I left La Sagrada Familia at 15.15, thinking that I had loads of time to do the other things on my list. I took the Metro to Placa de Catalunya (local spelling) and sat down to plan the remaining part of my day.

If anyone is familiar with the cathedral in central Birmingham, or Pigeon Park, then you will know what I mean when I describe Placa de Catalunya as the Pigeon Park of Barcelona. Teenagers and pigeons congregated in their masses. At one point, someone threw a piece of bread for the birds and the whole square rose up in a panic. Birds hurtled to the food like bullets from a machine-gun. It was like a scene from 'the Birds', and I'm surprised I got out without a scratch. Terrifying!

I followed the Rough Guide's orders and went up many escalators to the 9th floor of Corte Ingles and took a couple of pictures from the windows of the restaurant there. They didn't come out well though. The restaurant did look very nice, but expensive and I was getting some odd looks so I left.

I then headed down the 'must-see' destination according to the Rough Guide, Las Ramblas. I checked the time, I'm running out of time! So I hurry down Las Rambles. They are three pedestrianised roads linked together in a row of about 1km. There are street-performers, stalls selling everything from T-shirts to seeds and lots and lots of people. It was very interesting to see it all, but I was looking for a souvenir to take home. Hmm... herbs? Nah. I took a detour at Liceu station to see the Seu cathedral.

This picture is actually the back of it. It's much more impressive than the front, which was covered by a huge advert and scaffolding. It's like they're building the city around me! Compared to La Sagrada Familia, it was a huge disappointment. So, don't feel it's a must-see. I headed back to Las Ramblas, stopping to buy a souvenir, so it wasn't a complete waste.

I then headed all the way down to the harbour and got there at 17.00. I realised that I was fine for time and now had some to spare. So I took some pictures of the harbour.

I took the Metro from Drassanes back to Arc de Triomf (I've finally figured them out - annoying that the 'translate to English' button only changes one word, and I think I can figure out what Cancel-lar means thank you).

I was back in the area close to the bus station and I was hungry, thirsty and TIRED!

I bought a Coke from one place but they weren't serving food. I went up and down several roads but nowhere was serving food yet. It was before 6pm and I suppose it's the Spanish way to have late dinners but I needed food!

I finally found a place at 17.50 opposite the Arc de Triomf and ordered Paella de Carne (meat paella). It came (microwaved?) at 18.10 and I ate it with bread. I finished it quickly, and it came to 12 Euros. After that, I went back to a coffee shop I'd seen earlier. I had a Cafe con leche and croissant choco for 1.95 and that was very nice. I then walked back to the bus station, past 'Bar Estrella' and the Arc de Triomf again. It's dark by then and the city looks very nice.

I got back to the bus station at 19.00 and checked my bus was still running - it was! Learning from earlier, I went straight to the toilet, where a man didn't seem to have any problem wandering round with his pants down. Hmm...

I made my way to "platform" 25 and waited for my 19.45 bus. I asked the driver of a bus I knew wasn't going to Tossa if it was just to make sure. It wasn't. My bus arrived 5 minutes early and I got on, it wasn't full but I was still glad I bought my ticket that morning. We left and I relaxed into my seat. What a great day, an exhausting day, but a great day.

I entertained myself on the trip back to Tossa by counting the arrows in the hard-shoulder pointing to the nearest SOS phone (that's an excellent idea - I've always wondered how people who have broken down decide which way to walk to find a phone). We were on the C32 from Barcelona heading north along the coast (32 is one of my favourite numbers too) in quite heavy traffic in the city and then at tolls but the bus got priority.

I got back to the hotel, asked for "una cerveza" and get asked to show my 'All-inclusive' band for the first time, and then I went up to my room. I went to bed at 22.10 and wondered why there wasn't loud music playing downstairs like the previous nights. There was a piano-sound coming from somewhere and a crying child nearby but no music.

I got to sleep at about midnight, pleased that the day was such a success.

Next time, the journey home - will it be a disaster like getting to the airport?

Barcelona (Part Three)

This weekend I did my TEFL course in Birmingham and I will post some information about that once I have finished all these posts about Barcelona!

So, the hotel seemed nice enough, except that the entire town was in the midst of that powercut. So, no food and no room. And I was so tired!

But I did what I could. I checked-in and got my uberly cool blue 'All-inclusive' band. They had some cold sandwiches in the restaurant so I had some of them. And so began the being-careful-with-what-I-eat phase of my holiday. I had read reviews of the hotel online before I went - and they seemed to mainly warn against the food.

As I was sitting at reception waiting and waiting, a British man came down and starting shouting at the receptionist "Why is the power off?! My girlfriend is upstairs ill because of your food and we can't even watch TV! It's not even funny!" and then stormed off. Hmm... what have I gotten myself into here?

Then the staff started arguing with each other in front of me for about 10 minutes, ending finally with one of them storming off and the other muttering something very rude about his mother. Which my Spanish-speaking friend David had told me the week before was the worst thing you can say to someone in Spanish.

At 12.30 they told me that my room was ready. Yay! I take my suitcase up through the winding corridors - of course I get lost and spend 10 minutes looking for the room in the labyrinthine hotel. I finally find it and it's freezing cold in there! But I unpack and make all my things neat in the cupboards etc. Then I lie down.

That lie down became a 3-hour siesta. I woke up at 16.00 and dragged myself off the double bed. Nice and comfy. As I went to the toilet, the lights flickered back on and I cheer in my head. I promptly turn the heating up to 30C, which may have been a bit excessive, but I was cold!!

I turn on the TV and watch 'Friends' in Spanish on channel Cuatro. And 'Friends' is on channel 4 in the UK. Why need I ever feel homesick? As I'm so sad, I know exactly what episode it is, even though I can't understand a word. "I'm Dr. Monkey!"

The only UK channel is ITV1. Great choice Spain.

So I did not a lot for a few hours and then went down for dinner at 18.30. It's true what the reviews said about the restaurant. There is a funny, not unpleasant, just funny, smell as you go down the stairs into the basement restaurant. I eat some chips, chicken, salad, bread and some weird potato balls. There were some odd looking dishes being served - definitely avoided those!

I went back to my room at 19.15 and had a lovely hot bath for half an hour. I rang home to say goodnight and then, realising that in the last 31 hours, I'd had 4 hours of broken sleep, I fell into bed at 9 and woke up at 9 the next morning.

It was lovely sleep. I woke up feeling properly refreshed but I know I could have slept for many more hours. I got up for a shower and then realised that I couldn't work it, so it was another bath for me.

I went down for breakfast and ate egg, sausage, bacon, nice toast (maybe it was Bimbo ***** that may have given it away) and butter beans in a tomato sauce (ew).

Then I went out for a wander to see some of the town. I used the internet in the hotel's reception and emailed home. Then I bought postcards and stamps, and a disposable camera. I then followed signs up the road to the main Tourist Information office.

Saw a nice random swirly thing in the middle of a roundabout and the bus station behind. I got information about buses to Barcelona from the TI office and then headed back to the hotel to write and post the postcards (they arrived a week after I got home, oh well).

When I was in my room, the lights randomly went out. Not another blackout! I checked the lights in the hall and they were on. I walked down to reception and told them that the lights had gone off. They wrote it down and said they'd check it out. I went back up to the room and found a slot for my keycard which turned the lights back on! I took my card and walked down to reception again to tell them it was fine. Got back, and the lights went off again. Hmm... I can't be bothered.

So I ignored the lighting problem and went for lunch at 12.30. Chips again - it was all I trusted. Who can mess up chips? And some kind of red meat, with lettuce (actually very nice and crisp) and grated carrots.

I left the hotel for an afternoon wandering round Tossa. As soon as I stepped out of the hotel, I was hit by the humidity. The air was so thick and dense. I couldn't see the tops of all the hills surrounding the town, mist covered them. But I went for my hike/ photo-marathon.











It was around siesta time, so although everything was closed, it was lovely as I seemed to have the entire town to myself.

After going down to the beach, I then headed up towards the castle.
























I walked all around the town, up to the castle and lighthouse, back into the centre, then all the way up into the hills and back down, via this pretty church that chimed the whole way through my walk. I stopped at a beach-side Heladaria and bought a Chocolate & Stracciatella ice cream for 2.90, an old favourite from Italy. And it was good.


I walked back to the hotel and got a Coke and a beer (it's free!) and headed up to my room at 15.45. I looked down at the street from my room and planned my trip to Barcelona using the travel guides and the bus timetable.















I ordered a packed lunch for the following morning and then, in my OCD-style, made a chart with everything I wanted to see in Barcelona, the closest metro station and the metro line it was on. You don't have to tell me, I know I'm cool.

I ate chicken in breadcrumbs, chips (again), carrots, lettuce and bread for dinner at 6.30 and then went for a walk along the seafront in the dark. I did take some photos but they didn't come out well in the dark so I won't post them. It was lovely and quiet, deserted almost. I rang home once I was back in my room and then had another bath (wish I knew how to work the shower). I was in pitch-black for almost the whole time as the lights had taken to switching themselves off again. But then I finally figured out that I needed to keep my keycard inside that slot to keep the lights on. Is this a common thing in hotels and I was just being really dim? Probably.

I put my clothes and bag out for tomorrow. I was very excited, big trip! I got into bed and was kept awake by loud people below me. I knew I'd get the room above the bar. So I put my earplugs in and settled down for sleep - I needed it.

Next post, the big trip itself - Barcelona!

Barcelona (Part Two)

Last time you saw me, I was sitting in Ritazza near the security check in East Midlands airport, and now... I'm still there.

There was absolutely no chance of sleep near the cafe, it was manned solely by a boy probably not much older than me, who was obviously not very happy about working the night-shift. He played pumping music throughout the whole night, ignoring being asked to turn it down several times. But I didn't mind, I didn't plan to sleep. (You can check out how people rate airports to sleep in here).
I just felt sorry for the people lying on the seats nearby who definitely did want to sleep. And he kept going for cigarettes outside, leaving the whole cafe to me! If I was the manager there, I would've had his head.

I had had a painful shoulder the night before which had kept me up for several hours so I was armed with Ibuprofen, as I knew it would not be a particularly comfortable night, spending over eight hours sitting until I got to Spain.

Overnight, I amused myself by reading, re-drafting my novel, wandering around to find my check-in desk and the toilets. Surprisingly, this vast array of activities made time pass quite quickly. Maybe it was because I was slightly nervous about checking-in and everything - I've never done this before on my own!!!

I got up to check-in at 4.30am and realised that the queue was huge, the whole length of the hall. Forget that! I went to the toilet and came back, it was half the size. Magical queue-destroying toilets.

There were no problems at check-in, but the woman was very moody - as I worked at Cadbury World, I could have taught her a few things about customer service.
Lesson One - don't look like your about to stab yourself in the head because you can't stand serving one more happy family.

I was bleeped at security but I expected that, I've never gone through one and not set it off. I was violated, then made my way to the departure lounge. Another Ritazza! But it wasn't open. I saw the spot where my family had sat earlier this year when we went to Venice but didn't go there. I wandered up and down through the shops, listening to Gwen Stefani over the radio. There was some interesting stuff, including a stand full of 1,000-pack cigarettes so as I approached I was bombarded with 'Smoking kills', 'Smoking causes lung cancer', 'Smokers die younger' in letters the size of my head.

I stopped for a bacon roll and cup of tea, which I later realised was caffeinated. Damn, no sleep on the plane for me then. At about 6.00am, I checked the screen and I was told to 'Go to Gates 1-5'. There was a massive queue and slowly got massiver and massiver as it wound its way through a cafe (Ritazza again), past Gates 4, 3, 2 and 1 and back towards 5. Great. I joined it at virtually the end, the only people behind me were a group of 19-ish year olds who were talking about plane crashes. Wonderful. The queue was quite fast-moving and I was out in the freezing morning air. A man had stopped at a barrier a few people ahead of me and was waiting. The queue built up behind me until a flight attendant came out and showed him that he had to turn left and follow everyone else.
Lesson Two - don't roll your eyes at customers, they might fall out. Messy.
There was then a long, cold walk to the plane in the dark. I climbed aboard and asked a man in an aisle seat about 6 rows back from the front if either of the two seats next to him were taken. He said no and moved aside for me so I got a window seat. Woo! I like window seats for short plane journeys but for Japan I should probably try to get an aisle seat for my abnormally long legs. Obviously, the ideal situation would be a free row so I could get all the benefits but that's a long shot. I suppose it depends on how many Japanese people came here for New Year or how many British want to go to Japan at the beginning of the year. I would expect Japanese people to flight with JAL (Japan Airlines) though.

No one sat in the middle seat next to me, which I was pleased about.
I like taking off. It's one of the best parts of flying. Although for the last few trips I've taken, I haven't been great on planes. There's something about being trapped in a metal tube with a hundred other people suspended thousands of miles above the ground that makes me a little worried. But it went fine. There was nothing to see once we'd taken off because it was dark outside, and they'd turned the lights off inside, which was lovely as I started to drop off to sleep. But, alas, they turned the lights back on and the sun started to rise, blinding me. But I pulled the window blind down and looked down at some beautiful cloud formations. The snow had left a nice coating on the ground and, while it was still dark, cities that I caught glimpses of looked lovely all lit up. I watched the scenery until we'd passed over the Channel and France, then lay on the tray in front of me (albeit very uncomfortably) and had broken sleep until descent about 90 minutes later.

On the descent, my head was very painful. Not just a popping in the ears, but full on pain in my temples for 20 minutes. I looked down and saw my water bottle scrunching up and thought, that's what my head is trying to do.

We landed, in typical bumpy style, but with no problems (and 10 minutes early) at Girona airport. We stepped out into Spanish atmosphere (not my general experience, usually I step out in 30C, that time I stepped out into about 3C). With my breath condensing in front of me, I hurried into the arrivals lounge. I stood by the carousel for about 15 minutes and my bag was one of the very last ones. It couldn't have happened any other way.

I put the time on my phone forward 1 hour then followed the instructions I had received from Resorthoppa (hotel transfer company). I left the arrivals hall and found a woman and driver with a sign saying 'Resorthoppa'. I told them who I was and it turned out they were only waiting for two other people and I got straight into a taxi and then a mother and daughter (daughter in early 20s) followed me. Within two minutes we were off. That was far too easy, I thought. I checked I had everything with me and then rang home, letting them know I had landed safely.

The route was very windy, it went up into the mountains and followed the track cut sharply into the rock. The view was lovely, forested hills rolling in which ever direction I looked. There were so many examples of crazy Continental driving, not to generalise, but the car was either far too close to the edge, risking plummeting to a rocky death, too close to the middle so the car rocked as other vehicles passed, or just plain speeding and overtaking. The driver was listening to Flaix FM, which seemed to be a 'cool' English-music station and, to my joy, we passed a van full of Bimbo *****!

We pulled up to my hotel, Tossa Beach, and got our bags and everything out.



It looked nice from the front, I made my way up into the reception and stepped in. It's dark and cold!
I enquire at the desk and am told that the entire town is in blackout and they can't let me have my room until it is sorted.

Will the power come back on? Will I get my room? Find out, in Barcelona & Bimbo ***** Part Three, coming soon...

Barcelona (Part One)

Last week I went to Barcelona.

It was like an independance trip, I'd done London by myself before and I wanted to fit in a short trip abroad before Japan to give myself some experience of flying and travelling alone. As I found out that I would finish work earlier than I first thought in October, I booked a cheap holiday that night using Last Minute.com. I thought that was the best way to bounce back.

An all-inclusive deal including flights and accommodation to the Costa Brava about 90km north of Barcelona cost me £150. I wanted to do the whole thing for less than £250 as, after all, I am saving to fly half-way across the world for several months next year.

I had arranged the whole thing in October, a month in advance. Unfortunately, I was flying from East Midlands not Birmingham and the flight was at 6.30am on Monday morning. There was no public transport that early so I had to get to the airport late on Sunday evening and spend the night there.

I had booked a coach with National Express to Coventry, then another (90 minutes later) to East Midlands airport.

I left home at about 7.00pm (trains were cancelled so my dad and youngest brother drove me into the centre of Birmingham to Digbeth coach station) to catch a 19.30 coach. And, what a shock, it was snowing! It had been raining all day and when the temperature dropped, it just turned to snow. We all thought it wouldn't settle, it never snows in mid-November! But it became heavier and heavier and our garden was covered in white very quickly. It was very atmospheric waving goodbye to my mum in the snow like a scene from some cheesy movie.

We drove in, the snow pounding the front windscreen - this is incredible! After a long goodbye at the car, I take my suitcase and writer's bag (it's basically a black shoulder bag but it looks writer-ish) into the temporary coach station across the road from Digbeth. They are renovating it at long-last because it's hardly a great advert for Birmingham, if that's what thousands of people see of it when they arrive.

You can see what Digbeth should look like when it's all finished here.

Anyway, I go into this huge freezing cold hall with rows of seats and screens around the walls. And of course, all the coaches are delayed because of the snow. Great. I sit down in front of a screen and watch my coach, 19.30 to Coventry. It's delayed til 19.50, well that's okay. It's about 19.15 and there's a long wait ahead of me anyway, it's just a different environment (albeit a very cold one) to sit in getting bored.

About ten minutes later, I realise that I've forgotten my packed midnight snack that I made for the airport and left it in the car. I ring Dad to check where he is and thankfully, he'd gone to buy some pudding and wasn't too far away. He came back with it (thank you!) and I ran out to collect it. On my way, I saw my coach (the 538 service to Coventry) pull in. Yay! Shouldn't be too long now. I said another goodbye and thank you, then ran back in. I checked the screen and it wasn't boarding yet. I assumed they must be still re-fueling or whatever. I quickly went to the toilet, don't you just love it when you have to pay 20p for the luxury of weeing? I came back out and the screen announced that my coach was delayed again til 20.01. Never mind, maybe there's a problem. I sat back down, realising that the huge clocks they had were the same as the one in my kitchen. Wow. Exciting things to think about.

Then, at about 19.55 the screen changed and said 'Go to Gate A'. Finally, I'm off. I jumped up and ran to Gate A. Hmm, no one there. I looked up at another screen. My coach wasn't on there. Hmmm. That's not good news. I ran back to the Information desk and the guy there said that my coach left 15 minutes ago.

This took a while to sink in. Great. The first leg of my journey and it had already fallen apart. I went to an Express Ticket machine and saw that there were no more coaches to Coventry that night, and no more from Coventry to East Midlands airport after 21.40 - the one I was booked on. I rang Mum to ask for advice. She said she'll ring me back. I considered a taxi or local bus. But there was no guarantee that either of those would get me there in time because of the snow.

Mum rang me back and said that she'll pick me up and take me to Coventry bus station. I'm hopeful again. I sat back down and waited, the man at the desk said that there had been an announcement for my coach. Was I outside collecting my food? In the toilet? Either way, they announced a bus to London at least four times, obviously Coventry just isn't as popular as London. Can't think why...

Mum picked me up at 20.45 and we get driving. Dad looked up directions on the internet and texted them to us.

I felt so bad that I missed the coach, but am adamant that the only thing I did wrong was not double-checking with someone that the screen was telling the truth. But, it's a lesson learned. Always check things with someone!!! Anyway, why did the screen say it was leaving in ten minutes if it left 15 minutes ago. How annoying...

By then, the snow had become a blizzard and we were finding it hard to find the bus station. We had 55 minutes and we were nowhere near Coventry. We followed the directions until the Ring Road, where we realised that we didn't know which direction to take. Left or right? We rang Dad and he said we should take the first option. Left then. Naturally we had gone right but no matter, we found the right road and then signs to the bus station.

We were both so relieved to have made it on time. I went in to ask where the National Express coaches arrive and depart and... oh my god, that place was hell. Much worse than Digbeth. Digbeth coach station is the Ritz compared to Coventry's so-called 'Pool Meadow'. If you can avoid it, definitely steer clear. Shudder...

I asked a staff member and he told me where to go. As I was asking, some random Chav shoved me from behind and then walked away. The people were as nice as the place!

Mum came in with my bags (and food!) and waited with me. Then, 10 minutes late, which I think I'll forgive, the coach arrived. I was so relieved and said a second goodbye to Mum before clambering aboard. It was warm! WARM! It was easily the most comfortable coach I've ever been on. And it was very empty. It arrived at EMA 20 minutes late but I didn't care in the slightest, it was so comfortable.

I walked into the airport and found all the benches full of sleeping travellers. I settled into Ritazza near the security check with a large Decaff (just in case) Cappuccino and started reading.

It was going to be a looong night...

Leaving Cadbury World

I'm feeling a little down today. Yesterday was my last day at Cadbury World, my workplace last summer and this year since July. It may not be a long time relatively, but I really enjoyed it there, met some truly lovely people and overall had an amazing time. So thank you to everyone there who made it what it was, I'm sure they know who they are.

But, onwards and upwards, as everyone was telling me, "you're going onto bigger and better things, you're going to JAPAN!"

But I am still sad to go, it's just another section of my life closed behind me, although I'm sure I'll be back (I hope).

I don't know what I'll do with all my spare time now though. Before, I shoved everything into mornings, evenings and days-off (not that I've had many of those recently) and now I have an 8-week stretch before Japan. I do have lots of things to do, going to Barcelona next week for one, and the TEFL course at the beginning of December.

Still, life is going to feel a lot emptier without that place, and the Cadabra music!

Miles