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Who actually uses a bidet for washing their backside, in all seriousness? I'm sure it's just an adult in-joke that British parents tell their kids when they pack them off on the school trip to France, in the hope of the teachers relaying to them hilarious anecdotes of stupid things their gullible kids did. Really, bidets are for rinsing the sand off your feet or washing socks. I've not met one person who has admitted to washing their arse in a bidet, and if such a person exists and is reading this, please fess up in the comments section!
Moving on... I'm in Andalusia, Spain. Where the rain has been falling on the plain and as far as I can see, everywhere else too. Lots and lots of rain. Real heavy hardcore soaking wet rain. The mountains that slope down into the coast of Andalusia are swathed in thick never-ending cloud and it's set to stay that way for a few days if the Internet is to be believed.
Glyn and I came here on a 'free' holiday where we get 7 days accommodation at Club la Costa which is a huge coastal hotel complex that boast two receptions
and a mini-train service around it. Only the train doesn't run on rainy days. They will try to sell us some expensive deal that we don't want over a free breakfast, lasting around 4 hours. Not looking forward to that, but not turning up means paying €500 each, so we will turn up.
Now Glyn booked a hire car in advance, and it was a bargain at around £100 for the week. The office was rather disorganised but we thought we'd dropped on when we heard our car was brand new. In fact it had only done about 4km. But OMG, it struggles and chokes up hills, I though we weren't going to make it a few times and that was just when we were getting lost around the hotel complex! It does not like the sharp turns on steep roads. We might be better off in a Flintstones car - at least we'd be able to see as the windows were totally steaming up despite blowing air full on them and opening the windows. In the end we had to blast the aircon fully and finally could see. Btw, the car is a Toyota Aygo, but should be
renamed Aygoveryslowly.
Our room is actually an apartment with two floors and is almost as big as my home in Stoke. There's patio doors to a patio funnily enough, with a view of the rainy swimming pools and tennis courts. On the plus side, Glyn noted that if it rains much more, we will have a swim up room!
We needed something indoors to do, so I decided we should go to Mariposario de Benalmadena which is a tropical butterfly house that plays hippy pan pipes as you wander around the hot damp indoor forest as butterflies flutter around you. Randomly there's also a wallaby sleeping in one corner, plus a few of those lizard things. The plus side of the bad weather is that is calms the butterflies down and so chasing them around isn't so hard.
We got to see a butterfly being born and take its first flight. We were told that they like to land on bright things and so, one massive blue morpho that was as big as my hand slap-landed on my face. It only stayed a few seconds, not long enough for Glyn to get a photo, but it did
feel weird. I'd like to think that the brightness it was attracted to was my red hair and not something odd about my face. Stupid butterfly probably has a satnav as crap as mine.
Outside it was still slatting it down but a few British tourists were determined that they were wearing tshirts and shorts because that is what you do on holiday. We walked into the nearby Buddhist Temple and then straight back out, the weather wasn't THAT bad!
Driving back we got lost up a mountain for a bit and eventually arrived at Fuengirola where we couldn't find one place worth eating at, except ice cream. I had tiramisu flavour and it was the most tiramisu-ish an ice cream can be. I think it make have actually been frozen tiramisu. O. M. G. We bought olives, cheese, wines and other essentials at a small supermarket and drove back to the hotel. We were a bit tired having been up since 2.30 am, after not sleeping for a few hours.
As we were chilling in our apartment, at around 7pm, the rain now decided to stop. I opened the patio doors and a few birds came
in and hoovered up my crumbs. Oh but for all the mod cons here, there's no wine glasses, in fact no glasses at all. To drink my €2.55 rose I had a choice of plastic beaker, mug or tea cup with saucer. Obviously I went for the latter, I'm not common you know!
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Andy
non-member comment
Heat Wave!
Hi Claire, oh how I enjoy both your blogs! On a train to Edinburgh and the others must be wondering what I'm stupidly sniggering at. Reminds me of great times on our travels! Absolute heat wave here! I really hope I don't read tonight they got you in the small print and by Glyn eating a sausage made out of some spurious meat - ?wombat sausage, you are compelled to buy a property! Look forward to next instalment.