The highs and Lows

I believe Jo Whiley (Queen of Indie Kitten on Radio 1...purr) does the highs and lows of things like Glastonbury...heres one of my own


One high is waking up next to Scarlet Johannssen in my bed this morning
the low was realising it was just her picture on the back of the telegraph

A low was misreading some of the names in the bomb blast
the high realising i should really put my glasses on before reading names in the paper and almost reaching for the mobile to call the international hotline

Low: Im not getting much cycling done here in spain
High: Im not getting much cycling done here in spain and can pop down the beach 100metres from my door instead!

Low: Being on holiday alone and not being able to share things with someone close
High: Being on holiday alone and meeting lots a mad Irish people and not getting to bed util 4.30am (AGAIN....groan)

Low: having to eat KFC as the bars dont open for food between 12 and 5pm
High: well there isnt one to that im afraid

anyway...enough of that....

I was meant to go out last night with some canadian students last night from the pension, but managed to sleep for too long by which time I had just missed them leaving by ten minutes...out into the street I went, already thronging with thousands of spaniards (note there are virtually NO british to be found here - they prefer it more in Benidorm to the north, plus theres been a little less interest here in recent times due to the ETA bomb on the sea front a while ago

will be back in a mo need to opo back to pension for money

here I am again

since the blast in london the police presence here has been pretty high profile, not sure why, maybe theres a general alert in Spain too. There were a couple of massive explosions that made everyone jump earlier today but it seems it was just one of the massive firecracker sessions they do on a regular basis for whatever festival is going on.

I fell asleep earlier on to beowken by a haunting choir outside what I thought was the window...in fact it was coming from the cathedral opposite. I marvel always at the architecture here . most buildigs have the fantastic on theoutside...not so with the cathedral...it looks like a dull square building from outside, but once inside the place is massive, quietly imposing and with shafts of light from the incredibly small but high windows punctuating old incense. Statues of the madonna abound and many people alone are here sat contemplating, paying perhaps for the lottery..who knows.

The faces of people interest me the most. Of course almost everyone here is in fantastic shape, almost sculped by the waves and sands of the mediterranean, and obsesity seems to be reserved only for the elderley who seem content to sit out their lot, play chess and puff constantly from small black cigars. But the faces....there are broadly two types of people here, the typical spanish with slightly large nose, very well defined eyes whether wearing makeup or not, dark and blonde; and on the other side there are a people who look very south american and are generally shunned by the rest. I dont know whether these are people who have come from CHile or peru seeking fortune, or whether this is a particularly indiginous look.

When on the beach today i saw family family family, no arguing just contentment. A small child came up to me and said Por favor pointing at my bottle of water...his mother rushed over to scold and apologise, but those little eyes and the upturned nose just struck a note in me.

As I woke earlier, I was greeted by the open balcony of my new room (there is a couple moved into my old room) and behiond the balcony the massive edifice of the castle which is on my photos website but only in the dark so far (I will update the photos once I am home).

I think I am just saying that at last after trying to get the medic out of me, I have found peace....I woke up yesterday and only just realised now that I am a doctor, but my holiday has served its pupose and I have been removed from the grind that is my job.

But back to last night...i bumped into the four irish girls, (three teachers and one IT consultant) and after saying hello, they said "well jimmy boy are you coming or not"....i miss that side of life. We went to a couple of places for sangria and then to club havana which is worth a look but there is little space for dancing...and boy can the spaniards dance...Andy B all is forgiven we miss your little steps!

When you walk around alicante in the day, apart from the fast food stores you cannot see any sign of life...all windows are barred and shuttered against the harsh...but at night like an anemone (awww Find Nemo i miss you) the place becomes incredibly vibrant. In the same space as downtown cardiff you will find approimately 1000 bars, most with seats outside, and those that are not are often just a window sized door leading down to a cellar or up to a roof where you can drink Moquitos if you like, a wonderfully potent but refreshing drink made of lemon, some unknown alcohol and fresh mint leaves all mashed up in a teapot. I feel sad that I dont know the name of the bar we went to for that as they pùrport to sell only the best in Alicante. WE then went on for food which is unbelievably cheap (about a third to a quarter of the UK price for similar sized portions)

Some of the girls had to go back to catch a plane early in the morning so I was left with two and we stumbled into a four story house dopwn a backstreet, thronging with spaniards only, dancing to spanish music without a hint of pop in sight....imagine the passion and heat and the rythmic gyrating of so many and you will only be a tenth of the way there....what a wonderful way to finish my night, leaving me sober but tired enough to fall asleep against the music from downstairs.....