I constantly attempt to escape the wisdom of others. This is because I am up my own arse.
Prior to getting on the plane to sunny Spain I was given many pearls of wisdom by Mother, beloved Aunt and a plethora of seasoned travellers. I subsequently made it my life’s goal to prove every one of these pearls fraudulent and smelly. Why you may ask? Because I am, as previously described in elegant detail, up my own arse.
Alas, as is the case with prideful folk who don’t listen to others, I fell upon the earth nice and hard with the bitter realisation that I am Wrong when it comes to Life.
Confident readers, if you believe the airline attendant it wrong, simply engage in polite argument. Do not be the type of polite British person who nods and apologises for the wrongdoings of others and then proceeds to pay £40 for excess baggage that was anything but. Just don’t. Chances are you will need that money to buy copious amounts of tea on a plane that believes it was a rollercoaster in another life with no need to have any healthy stock of sandwiches.
Also when someone tells you that you learn a person’s true nature when you travel with them… don’t roll your eyes and go ‘harumph’. It really is true. However, if it turns out the person you chose to share a hotel room with was actually an excellent choice of travelbuddy then proceed to guffaw with smarminess.
Also turns out I can tan. See I held fast on the belief that being of a dirty caramel shade of pigmentation I was exempt from this melanin powered debacle of changing colours. Humans shouldn’t be changing shades, it’s just wrong.
Sophie you plop it’s a defense mechanism. You know, against UV damage…
I don’t care, evolution must find a better way. I went on a 10km hike in delicately designed gladiator sandals-
You have tiger-striped feet don’t you?
I look diseased!!
How dare you…
So your illusions of exotic locations, rewarding chivalrous behaviour, perfect companions and erm.. fixed pigmentation were suitably crushed I take it?
Well yes but that was meant to happen. It’s quite humbling to realise that whilst you struggle to have experiences that differ from others, and I did don’t get me wrong I had my stories to bring back, never go on holiday expecting to win some sort of competition you’ve made up in your head.
Well that’s obvious isn’t it?
Shush up I am growing as a person!
Grow faster! You’ve made more tangible realisations this trip I hope. Stop living in your own head and actually give some advice to people.
Very well, never stay at a friend’s relative’s house abroad if you don’t know the friend very well, chances are you’ll discover a chasm of doubt exists between the two of you about your relationship which could lead to a very bitter holiday indeed. Even if the situation is ‘managed respectfully’ which, with women, it never is. Women always focus on what is unsaid hence any attempt at sensible discourse results in the actual words being thrown out the window paving the way for her self-doubt and suspicion to fornicate their way to some very confusing and often impossible behaviour.
If you have chosen a better known companion, in my case Bestfriend (one word yes), and are sharing the hotel room you so wisely decided to book, pray do not go ballistic when you realise your friend does not ‘settle in’ to a room but rather performs the act known as ‘nesting’ making a new nest in various areas of the room everyday and taking the phrase ‘lived in’ to a whole new terrifying level. Instead have your own little spaces of order and meditate once a day. Maybe read a book on the balcony, which I dubbed the Balcony Of Contemplation Of Life And Death And The Meaning Of All Things.
It is possible to feel naked whilst clothed if you are the only one clothed in a sea, or in this case beach, of almost naked and, in some cases, naked people. If your lack of foresight led you to be staying quite close to the beach either join the bikini and short clad individuals or put up with them staring at the conservatively dressed gals. If you choose the latter please don’t wear black. A fun coloured skirt is in order.
EasyJet’s hot chocolate is to kill for. Also I never asked what sachet they were using for it. My one regret in this trip… Also apparently everyone in Barcelona is a thief so hug your bag like it’s a newborn baby.
Plans for next time?
I feel braver. Still, might as well stick to exploring Europe, my goal now is to sample the public transport wherever I go. Spain’s was very good indeed and their trains and buses are very large. Quite cheap there too compared to the touristy areas in London.
Well what can I say, you accomplished something. And are blogging about it within a reasonable time, for you anyway. Well done!
Oh staahp, don’t get all mushy Other Me, I always had it in me.
Also I have graduated so I’m back up northwards near Leeds with the Parents and Older Brother to celebrate Ramadan and sort out my future. Those of you that are unaware Ramadan involves fasting, currently for 18 and a half hours, so focusing on my future is difficult since my notebook keeps looking like a cupcake.
Still, wish me luck in the sorting of life and depending on my levels of energy, boredom and procrastination I may blog more or less in the coming months.
Salaam to all you well-fed readers.
(Also Ramadan Mubarak to any fellow fasters that may be reading)
Or join my mailing list. I promise I don’t have time to spam you.
Or read some recent posts that I am quite proud of:
- Life is relentless. Take regular breaks.A lil’ catch-up on how mad the last 8 months have been. Features poorly explained stoicism and a Brene Brown name drop.
- My senior cat’s daily routine (includes monster poos and dog beds)5 minutes of descriptive prose of my new cat’s first week with me.
- the Olympics is when I revel in my ignorance of all sports.800 words of confused Olympic joy.
- Do you ignore your tea until it gets cold?3 min quickie about when your tea goes cold. Heavy journalistic stuff. Proceed with caution.
- I took a week off work, but it didn’t change my life.5 min read about expecting too much from yourself because #alwaysbehustlin’