Take off

Taxi man decided to arrive at 7.30am rather than 8.00. We also were expecting an estate car and got a Rover posh thing that looked like a Jag. Still, he managed to fit all our cases in – even if it meant one in the middle between me and Mum. Got to the airport in record time, about 45 mins even with a bit of traffic and some slow sections of the motorway.
Security was interesting. I managed to smuggle my brand new Carmex lipbalm through security in mum’s bag. Haha. Should have been a bomber.
We had to take our shoes off, and my laptop had to go through in it’s own special little tray but everyone was calm and it was quite quick moving.
Sitting in the airport I really didn’t feel like I was going anywhere. I was desperately texting Rob, trying to make the most of our last little bit of contact. I met his mum’s neighbour’s cat and saw his little collection of cars. Amazing stuff. I’ve promised to text once I’m in Madrid and again from Gran Canaria.
I feel like I’m going on holiday. I’ve had so long to think about moving away yet it still doesn’t feel like it’s happening. Hearing Spanish being spoken all around me is a weird sensation. It’s familiar yet hard to follow, I just catch odd little words and the rhythm of it sounds right. I’m reading all the signs like “fasten your seatbelt whilst seated” and wondering why they used the subjunctive. I should have brought “Exacto” out with me, my grammar book. Dictionary might have been helpful too. Ah well, I’ll buy what I need to out here.
Sat in Madrid for a few hours and then got on a plane to GC. Much smoother journey so no risk of vomming. As we touched down I could see a nice blue sky out the window, a very blue sea (it was nearly 7pm) and a more built up area than I was expecting. Especially considering I know that the airport isn’t in a very touristy area. It looked lovely. We collected all our baggage and headed for a taxi. Frustrating being with parents who comment on every little obvious detail like “landing gear is going down now” when it’s already obvious we’re landing. I think I was in a pretty foul mood anyway. Tired of sitting on planes and a bit anxious about arriving.
Asked the taxi driver in my best Spanish if he knew where “c/ Padre Cuerto, 4 Playa de Melinada” was. He said yes, we jumped in, then he spent ages asking me and phoning people and stopping on the street and accosting other taxi drivers. Turns out there are 3 streets of that name in very different parts of GC. I told him it was the Telde one. However it turns out that my notation of what was said over the phone to me in England wasn’t very accurate. The hostel was actually called “Albacar” not “Al Barca” and the street was “Padre Cueto” not “Cuerto” and the beach is called “Melenara”. Oh well. So far my Spanish has been ok.
We arrived at the hostel and it was locked. Asked a guy going in where the pizzeria was so we could collect our keys. I had been told it was next door. Hmmm. Mum and I left Dad with luggage and wandered off. I was concentrating on little goals at a time at this point. Get keys. Move luggage in. Find food. Chill out. We took a walk in the general direction we had been told but to no avail. Rang the number on the hostel door and a guy answered, told me there was no-one here, he was no-one in particular and said sorry he couldn’t help. Turns out he was inside the hostel not the pizzeria. So got more directions for the pizza place and headed that way with Mum. Found it this time! Went in and said we’d made reservations. He asked us if we had reservations but we heard “have you got a receipt” and I said “no”. He said “they’ll full…no room” so I went “eeeek”. LOL. We worked out the misunderstanding and got our keys. Whilst sitting there one of the waiters filled me and Mum in on the time he had spent in Doncaster. I tried to explain what a bassoon was in Spanish and then we headed to find Dad. We sorted ourselves out then went down to the pizzeria for some grub. Chatting at dinner it turns out Dad thought we were on a Balearic Island and wondered why it had taken a further 2 and a half hours to get there from Madrid! For those of you who don’t know I’m living off the coast of Africa on GC, one of the Canary Islands. Discovered our first local beer – Tropical. Nice lager.
The place we’re staying at this week is lovely. Not too far from Telde I’m told. We’re heading into Telde tomorrow to get our bearings a bit more but this area is nice for bumming around and to have as a base. There are about 8 restaurants and a few promenades along the beachfront – which is quite small and it’s very non-touristy which I like. Lots of locals and residential areas. Think that’s about it for now. I’m missing Rob like crazy. Every other thought is of him. Good thing: GC time = UK time.