Google+ Followers

Wednesday, 22 April 2009


There really is no excuse for not writing and if I can't drag myself out of bed tomorrow and go on a much looked forward to trip up to Canfranc by train then I will spend the day writing out all those scraps of paper that seem to litter the flat. Much looked forward to journey will I hope take place on a train whizzing or gliding through the Pyrenees to the final destination, a station that looks like it was designed in Paris at the turn of the last century and dropped down by mistake between the mountains. They say a scene from Doctor Zhivago was filmed there and the last time I went it was full of ghosts with all the signs in French and Spanish and a feeling of lost hope. Yet it would be a dream come true to see this station have the tunnel nearby re-opened so we could head on into France and one day homeward to London.

Whilst reading the only other blog worth reading called Thoughts from Galicia I learnt that blogs get more hits if words like prostitutes and lesbians appear. I am not sure of the lesbian scene in Huesca but there are quite a few prostitutes around if anyone is interested. I do remember two of them ripping off my neighbour the 'effing bleeder' next door while his wife was away in Brazil ( who Henderson is convinced is an ex-pro as well) by running off with his money which I guess makes them 'clippers' and not really prostitutes.

There was an interesting programme on The British tele ( there I go again...using the definite article..) about 'elf and safety and how it has become a joke in Britain with all the stories about school children having to wear goggles if they play conkers etc. It was in stark comparison to the lack of pointless meddling here in Spain and only an hour after I had visited some Spanish friends to see their menagerie which ended up with a parakeet having a fright and flying into the blazing boiler in their kitchen. Said bird's head peeped over the top while we were all screaming and imagining it was being cooked and then my friend's daughter blew out the pilot light. Half an hour went by and I kept telling them perhaps they should re-light the boiler in case gas was streaming out and as their father chains smokes I was feeling slightly more anguished than normal. In the end he just laughed when I told him his home resembled something out of a Laurel and Hardy film which here in Spain are called 'El Flaco y El Gordo' The Thin One and the Fat One. As I left he added that if I get a call in a few days to hear the whole block had collapsed then I wasn't to be surprised.

Well, I will save the other story of some friends who told me about their 'first fire of the year' till Friday if I survive the dentist that day.

No comments: