Usually in airports the announcers sound terrible - they swallow the microphone and gabble so that all you hear is a deafening racket from somebody who
cannot speak English properly. But today in Luton we are priviledged to hear from a lady, nay goddess, who enunciates to perfection. So much so that I decide
to not get on the airplane so that this sublime creature will eventually plead with me - "please, please, get on our airplane I beg you, I really need
you near me".
Unfortunately, before I can put this plan into operation, the houri ascends back to heaven (or possibly goes for her lunch) and is replaced by some ignorant, regional oik - "like, you know what I mean, innit". I leave England for Gibraltar bitter and disillusioned.
This is evidently how they move wind turbine blades at sea - how they move them inland, I have no idea. Helicopter?
Another glorious day in the sun.
In the afternoon we spot a dead turtle about two feet long floating in the sea. Nobody else notices it so we alert a number of people in our
role as general purpose busybodies.
We then stand and talk to a charming couple until the sun goes down.
We need a car so we go off to Auriga Crown in La Linea but unfortunately they are closed until 4.00pm. Accordingly, we seek shelter from the icy blast
(it is no more than 70^ F and a bit breezy) in a bar opposite. Clearly, we have walked into a comedy act - with hidden cameras. A quite pretty girl
behind the bar is entertaining her boyfriend, her granny and various people she doesn't much like. For 40 minutes they all scream at each other as only
Spanish women can. Forget New York - the bitches there are not in the same league when it comes to screaming.
As for customers, we are clearly the first ones they have ever seen and are not sure how to cope - accordingly they decide to just pretend we are not there and carry on screaming.
Eventually, we stagger out shell shocked and collapse inside Auriga Crown who are now open. They are nice people to deal with - very laid back and helpful. We ask for a discount and they give us a good price - and a car to match.
Later, in Morrisons car park, a local expert spends 20 minutes informing us about this vehicles many defects. Don't ask. I guess you get what you pay for.
Gulls (only amateurs call then Seagulls, I am told) are really big. Almost as big as turkeys. Now there's an idea ...
Yet another shop opens in Main Street. Generally, the Main Street shops are still in the Dark Ages but are gradually improving. What we really need is a branch of Boots the Chemist.
My girlfriend spends all day at primark with a friend of her's. I stay at home and sit in the sun. By the time she gets home it is getting dark ...