Episode 6: Begging for Murcia (Part 1)

Bad Apple! Bad, bad Apple!

I guess that I should have told you, my loyal fans, that I wouldn't be around for a week as I was going away for a break to the south of Spain. The thing is, I'm fairly new to this blogging lark and the fact that there would be no blog for another week never once crossed my mind. Sorry! So, if you've been sitting there in front of your computer, pining for another instalment in what is fast becoming THE blog to read on the internet, then pine no longer, for I'm back. You need to know though that I could have been back so much sooner, but it was not to be. Whilst away in Murcia, Apple decided to update its operating system, which is lovely for them. Blog completed but not yet published, I decided to update the system on the iPad, which is where the blog was sitting comfortably, having enjoyed the 11 hour and 980km drive back to Coruña. My computer told me that it had backed up everything on the iPad and would restore it in time, once the new system had been installed. I'm here to tell you that it lied to me. Blatantly! When I went there this morning to take the blog off and publish it, there was no sign of it. Gone! When I investigated the site of the software I'd used to write it, there was a big message saying that there were known issues when updated to Apple's new software and they were working on this. I'm very pleased for them, but it means I'm sitting here, trying to remember what I once wrote and replicate this. Let me tell you now, the blog I wrote in Murcia was hilarious. I don't just mean funny, I mean laugh until a little bit of wee comes out hil-ar-i-ous. If this blog doesn't quite match up to that one and you are not incontinent of urine or any other bodily fluid when reading it, then please blame Apple and not me.

So, off to Murcia we went and living in Spain now meant that we could drive there and not have to take a plane. Most road movies concentrate on two chisel-jawed slackers or best mates or the unlikely pairing of one serious geek and one kooky blonde. Being two overweight gay men and a couple of bickering octogenarians, we were none of these. Nor were we searching for lost children/parents/our Holy Grail or to get away from abusive partners and find ourselves. Sure we have an irritating neighbour, but she's no reason to drive so far. The other thing about those movies is they don't show you at 3am in the morning, struggling to remember which way round your underwear goes on, so that you can hit the road before all the traffic builds up. Yes, we got up at 3am in order to get a head start on the traffic and finally got out of the door at 4am, which was as we planned it. Thirty minutes into the drive and José asked me if I'd remembered the keys to the villa. Thirty minutes later we were back at the house and I was running through the front door to fetch said keys. A further thirty minutes later and we were back where we were an hour ago. So much for getting up early and beating the traffic. Still the journey was uneventful and we were so looking forward to getting to the villa.

José and I don't make an issue of going back to the same place on holiday as we like to experience new things and places, but there's something magical about this place. Driving to the villa, you leave the motorway and join the Spanish equivalent of an 'A' road, then onto a 'B' road, then onto a mountain road, before leaving that to join a one track that leads up the mountain and into the middle of nowhere. We love the middle of nowhere and are always happy to get there. The cave house (or casa cueva - which is this week's Spanish lesson) is away from everything and set amongst the majesty and grandeur of the Parque Regional Sierra de la Pila mountain, although it does have one other tourist attraction we love; prostitutes.

Why not relax in a nice easy chair whilst waiting for punters. Seating comes with free Wi-Fi and douche

Leaving the villa, once back onto the main road and heading towards the motorway, there's a winding 'B' road that had a load of chairs by the side of it that we found puzzling the first time we came to this place a couple of years ago. We soon found out why on one of our journeys into civilisation. These chairs are occupied by ladies who like to make their money by doing what comes naturally; and I'm not talking needlepoint! This time, we decided not to tell my in-laws about them and see if they could see any for themselves. We weren't sure if they were in season, being October, but on the Monday morning we were rewarded with a glorious display, the likes of which we hadn't seen in the two weeks we'd been there in 2009. Two of these ladies, having been reclined in armchairs at a junction, had a customer. It was obvious which one of these ladies had won the gig, for as one slunk back to the discomfort of no earnings and a hot roadside, the other went bouncing around the car with her rather large bosoms exposed and jiggling for all they were worth. All this and the surreal sight of a gypsy riding past on his horse and trap with a wandering dog thrown in for good measure. If my father-in-law was going to have a coronary at that moment, he would have died a happy man. Even his loving wife couldn't slap the grin off his face several hours later! 

You need to click on this picture to get the full sense of the bosoms that are going on to the right 

As the week progressed, we loved watching out to see who we could see as we drove past, noting those we'd seen before, whether chairs were empty or full and to see if they'd got anyone picking them up. Sort of Bingo, but with tits! "Oh it's her with the white bra and tattoo of Delia Smith again. I win"

Chav-tastic!!

Sunday we decided to take a trip to Benidorm. You may ask yourself why this is, but we love Benidorm, although I hasten to add that I am now talking about the ITV sitcom and not the place itself. That said, we went there a couple of years ago and stayed in the old town area, which is really nice. The beach is quieter, the place is quieter and all in all it was much classier. They also have a new tram from Alicante to Beni which takes just over the hour and is as cheap as chips, which is something else they have an abundance of in Beni! Once there, we knew that the cast of the sitcom were filming the next series and that day were doing a book signing from 2pm - 4pm, so we headed for Morgan's Tavern, which is what doubles as Neptune's in the series. There were loads of people outside, so after getting the lay of the land - basically, no-one knew anything - we went for lunch and decided to come back once the queue had subsided a little. Lunch followed - yes, there were chips involved of course - and so we went back to the Tavern. The queue was still as large, but in our absence, someone had come out with numbers and given them all out. Basically, they were going up to 200 and no more, then if there was still time and people wanted to go in, they would do a few people who didn't have a number. We waited for an hour with those horteras (it means 'common people'........I just love that the Spanish have a word for it!!), amongst the bouncing boobs, beer guts and cheap ear-rings, but I soon started to itch (can you catch 'Chav'?). Eventually we decided to leave as it was obvious to us that we weren't going to get in. Each time the organising woman called another 10 numbers, about 30 people went in. It appears that one number equalled the person themselves, their partner, funny Aunt Agatha and her lesbian lover and their two adopted Himalayan children. One thing I did notice while I was waiting was the correlation between people who go to Benidorm and mouths with tombstones where once was shiny white enamel. It made me long for a break on Easter Island. We soon took the tram back to Alicante where at least the horteras have the decency to wear Prada, even if it is cheap looky-likey knock off tat.

There is more to come on our trip to Murcia, but I don't want to over stimulate you all by putting it all in the one blog. Tune in next time for tales of robbery and torture...........