Yes she's beaten me at dominoes three nights bloody running, also haven’t won at Ludo or draughts for weeks, now even eyeing “Picka-sticks” but I'm also useless at that so no go. She won't play chess or backgammon so I'm going to take up solitaire on the PC.
BTW, temperature plummeted to 15°C last night and the wind howling by at 5 mph, how's it back there. Heard it was a bit “windy”?
Washing followed by a cycle through to El Palmar to find a path that we can cycle to Conil, yep it does exist so maybe do that on Saturday. Tomorrow it's a trip down to Gibraltar, might get a steak and kidney pie at Morrisons, best in the world.
Tonight it's Perch (fish again) along with that tin of weird Spanish green beans that we have had for about a year and cost €5 a tin!
Friday 12th November 2010.
Couldn't get up this morning. I'm mentally shattered, in a stupor, have no feeling in my arms at all.
Beaten 3 – 1 last night and she finished off the last game with the double six, leaving me with the three two and double blank. Just can't go on.
Phoned the local “Phone in Doctor chat line” and was told I was suffering from scotomaphobia and was offered online therapy or online counselling if I can't seem to make it through the day. It's defined as the fear of spots before the eyes and usually given to those poor sods who roll out of the Working Man's clubs, up north, after playing dominoes all night.
She, the doctor, therefore warned me to keep away from all things with spots on them, so if I come across a Leopard, eating chocolate chip cookies and playing dominoes I was to close my eyes and count to ten or all my teeth would fall out. I was also warned that it could lead on to Eurotophobia- fear of playing cards, so I better give Cribbage a miss for a week or so. I looked it up and I think she's got hold of the wrong end of the stick, it means fear of females, but she could be right, SWMBO was, at the last count, female.
Mind you, I've only got myself to blame. I remember years ago, talking to my Mum as she lay on her deathbed at The Sunderland Royal Infirmary for the Criminal Insane and River Wideners, “Son”, she said finishing off her Guinness and stubbing out a Golden Virginia roll up on the whippet's head. “Never go out with any woman who has any understanding of the finer points of the laws of Dominoes”. “And if she knows how to play fives and threes, run for your life!” Wise words, unwisely ignored.
Friday 12th November 2010, actually Saturday 1am, as the hundreds of Spanish that arrived today are having a festival, 50 yards from where we are, drums, whistles, guitars, casternettes and all, due to last the week-end. Tricia went to bed with pink cotton wool stuffed in her ears, I'm using a bottle of white wine and a couple of beers, no not in my ears, I'm going to drink them.
So Gibraltar!
Managed to leave about 11'ish and drove the pretty way down to Gibraltar, i.e. to Vejer and then A2226 to the A381 and the A7 into the city, parked in La Linea at 2€/hour, it turned out. Reason was there was a huge tail back into Gibraltar, we found out later it was due to aircraft landings. The airfield is across the road into the place. Next time check airport timetables. Before we left we had been given strict instructions from Debbie to get some “Ginster” pasties and scotch eggs for Tony, sadly this did not happen, more later.
Bought day rover bus ticket at the border for £1.50 and was transported the half mile into town, considering the traffic it would have been better to walk. First port of call was Casement Square, full of closed in markets, restaurants and shops, SWMBO made for the glass blowing exhibition!
We then walked along Main Street and other than the blue sky and hot sun, we could have been back in England. Everywhere was English voices and when you come across M&S, that's practically home. Except they drive on the right! Wandered along, noticing all the “usual” shops, got some £'s at an ATM and no charge! Eventually arrived at Red Sands Road and the start of the cable car. £2.50 each way to the top or pay £17.50 for all the attractions and “one way”.
It turns out that when you finally arrive at “The Great Siege” tunnels, no one in their right mind would want to walk back up to the top and the cable car, because “The Rock”, as it's 426 m high (1,400 feet in old money) and you are already half way down by now. Each “attraction” was about £10 and overpriced if you paid that, so the “all in” £17.50 each was basically OK. Well it turns out that it's not quite “all in”, as when you climb the almost vertical road to see the “Top of the Rock” gun battery, it's an additional £7.50 each.
When we first arrived at the top of the cable car Tricia really wanted to see the Gibraltar's apes or Barbary Macaques asap. We were told on the way up and via notices at the top, not to feed them and do not carry food in bags, unfortunately a French family, with a 5 year old, obviously did not understand and as soon as we arrived the baby food bag, the woman was carrying, was snatched by a Macaque. It immediately jumped up, with it's prize, onto the wall next to SWMBO, she was just a tad surprised to say the least. Photographs were then taken by the bucketload. If fact she outdid herself this time and the total was 240 for the day, a small fraction here. 
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| From the top |
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| St Michael's cave |
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| The German & SWMBO |
Because she was off with the camera and I was using the video, we were mostly apart from each other and this German hooked up with her thinking she was on her on. Me? I don't care, maybe he'll buy a coffee and cake and save me the money, I mean he won't get anywhere, I'm married to her and I don't, so good luck to him. Anyway after a futile 30 minutes on his part she finally caught up with me and the penny dropped for him. He then pointed to the poppies we were wearing and asked what they were for. When SWMBO, who is probably more patriotic than the Queen and does enjoy the odd war film when tons of Germans are killed, told him what they were for, we didn't see him again.
Bit of shopping at the top, real English tea and apple pie with ice cream.
So we went to all the bits you should go to and were either climbing up steep bits or going down them, in fact the “down” parts were the worst causing cramps in my calf’s.
The views from the top were truly magnificent!
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| Scary Xmas or what! |
So we walked about half way down, SWMBO backwards most of the way, and finally spotted a bus which got us back to the town centre.
She had been planning to finish off the day with fish and chips and mushy peas. So we went into “The Rock” chippy in the square and ordered large Haddock, chips and peas for her and Cod and chips for me, tea of course. Hint, large isn't large, it's a whale and was absolutely bloody gorgeous!
I managed to finish mine, all but two chips, Tricia's “double Haddock” proved too much for her. After eating all that we just could not be bothered to drag our weary arses the mile to Morrisons and back. Sorry Debs, no Ginster.
Now Gibraltar is basically duty/tax free and some things, tourist stuff is always an exception, are very cheap. Cigarettes are £1.50 for twenty, booze is half price and diesel is 0.83p / litre. So it's almost compulsory, to drive around a lot, drunk and dying of lung cancer. Smoking seemed almost obligatory! So you get thousands of Spanish, walking / driving over the border and buying all the tax free goods. Shouldn’t it be the other way around, that's what I used to go to Spain for? |
| Hello and welcome |
Traffic on the way back due to the Spanish police stopping all the cars exiting and checking the occupants, illegals, who knows? So took nearly two hours to cover the 60 mile journey on unlit, badly marked, twisty roads, use the motorway next time.
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| Er........Runway? |
Saturday 13th November. (beaten 3-2, don't ask)
The Spanish have more or less covered the bottom half of the site and music can be heard almost constantly all day and as the live band is due this evening, can only get louder.
Went out in the Navara for a little shopping, no rice crispies so may be back to corn flakes soon.
Then a cycle ride toward Canos de Meca, about 3 miles and then back via the Natural Park. A little dog decided to tag along and it looked like he was going to follow us all the way back to the MS. Came to a stile and had to manhandle the bikes through it, whilst doing so took off my helmet and hung it on a post. Sets off and were pounced upon by a bunch of dogs from a local house, no real problem but “Pedro” the dog was terrified and just stayed where he was, so we were rid of him.
Gets back to MS and “Where's your helmet?” “Bugger, let's walk back”. Guess what? Twenty minutes and Pedro was still there and very glad to see us and dutifully followed back to the MS, bugger again. Tried to palm him off with T&D but no go. He then wandered off and we see him now and again around the campsite, trying to cadge food from the Spanish, SWMBO is worried he's lost, he's a dog, he'll sniff his way home.
A few months ago, after giving the oven a good sorting, thermocouple wise, I thought, one less thing, er.. not.
Tonight whilst cooking my oven chips to go with my superb (but not hot enough, so SWMBO could still eat it) chilli, the oven went out, don't know for how long, so I just pressed the igniter. Obviously the only bloody thermocouple I had not changed was the one on the oven and it wasn't in a go situation i.e. FUBAR (look it up) So gently press igniter....BOOM! Oven door crashes open and nearly breaks my shin and now have chips scattered all over the MS. They tasted a bit of carpet fibres but otherwise OK.
Going to try my hand once more at dominoes, have I no shame? Then “My Cousin Vinnie” with Joe Pesci, no silly he's the one in it. Then beer, wine and ear muffs for bed.
Tomorrow is eggy day, again!
Sunday 14th November and SWMBO has been “egged” and is more happy and reading in bed, it's 9:45 am.
To use an often spoken term in southern England and a double negative to boot, “I ain't doing nofin today”. In fact it applies to both of us because climbing up and down Gibraltar's steep roads, combined with yesterday’s cycle / walk, we are both well and truly knackered. So plan is to sunbathe, yes at 20°C and sunny we can still do the mid November, and read all day.
Pedro appeared early this morning, sniffing round the MS but on my way to the showers I saw him playing with the Spanish kids on the tennis court, he was 5 games to 2 up, in the first set when I left.
Unfortunately SWMBO has been making statements to the effect “Isn't he sweet”, etc. no way. But if he is still around when the Spanish go this afternoon, we will stick him in the car and drop him where he picked us up.
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| The Spanish are here! |
For the first time in two years I've just watch MOTD, in Spain, on Sunday morning, because the TV aerial thingy now works. 56 digital channels including 7 British ones, probably watch the F1 final later on.
When you get older, you forget what it's like having small children about when you’ve had a skinfull the night before. The Spanish, mostly the men, are sitting about holding their heads in their hands and moaning, whilst their kids, who on the whole tend not to drink, are running around (with Pedro) screaming their heads off.
Happy days.
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