Today I feel weirdy woo…
woke up without a breath…
ghastly trip bound up my lungs choking me with its grime…
I’m in the wrong place… I can feel it…
Call it snobbery but I was born for 5*s not the caravan park…
It goes against the princess grain…
It takes me a long time to put back the pieces after humpty dumpty falls off the wall.
Yoga: first port of call…
writing…
walking…
immersion…
translation…
girlfriends…
coffee…
more coffee…
MORE COFFEEEEEEEEE…..
running…
tidying…(more like pretend tidying – tridying)
The hilariously hideous trip pipped Croatia off the tripometer.
In Croatia it rained, I was gassed in my ‘hotel’/ ex-gym room and consequently found myself not being able to wake up, sleeping for at least 14 hours a day, there were cobbled beaches 1 metre squared, 2 fat lesbians who put a big brother camera in our ’shmotel’ room, creepy crawlies, arguments, strange Italian men, and lost friendships forever….
In Le Marche… Well … where do I begin. I was shaken about like a kitsch snow globe wanting to vom the whole way there.
We arrived at the beach which looked frighteningly like Eastanglia: pebbles, grey sea, old people… But there were no pretty pastel beach houses dotted along the sea-wall… No, No, Instead a nice industrial park, with ring ring ringing RINGING flag-holders bbbbbbbbrrrringing in my ears for 2 days solid…….
So, I was at the beach and felt I may as well make the most of the ’shmoliday’ … So I put on my bikini and hopped over the wall… But as we had a dog with us we couldn’t pitch our towels outside the caravan – we had to walk as far as the eye could see to the horizon, crossing a NO GO ZONE – a shooting ground! I felt like I was crossing the front line. Almost had a heart attack as I ducked the shots. And as we had a dog we had to pitch up ON THE FRONT LINE. I have never been so unrelaxed on a beach- it kind of defeats the purpose! So to escape near death I decided to take a swim. The shpebbles (sand mixed with pebbles) were strewn with rubbish… I tried to ignore it and imagine I was in Jamaica even though the water was icy cold… I took a walk across the NO GO barrier to safety and plunged into the what-seemed warmer water. It was quite enjoyable. The current was strong but at least it was warm – and ‘oooowhat a pretty stream running into the water, divine nature…. Oh and the green stuff floating from the river to the sea, it must be local plant life’. I looked beyond to where the stream began: A GIANT FACTORY!!!! And you can guess what the ‘green stuff was’!!!!!!! Urrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I felt utterly contaminated…. No more swimming. I needed to shower immediately … but our caravan had no running water. So I was a salty haired, waste-covered sea-monster…. Then an angry black cloud conveniently placed itself over our caravan and rained in a typically English fashion for the rest of the day!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The sea-monster’s only hope was going for a long beach-front walk! I felt like a bored child and made up games along the 2km hike. At every signpost I had a ‘challenge Annika’. I was so haggard I really didn’t care what the staring Italians thought of me!!! We passed some really funky looking restaurants and I perked up. There were ones with seats in the swimming pool… how very chic looking - and pirate-themed restaurants… But we came to ours… A tin shed looking / air-hanger of a restaurant!!!!!!!!!!!!!……..
Thank god I went out afterwards. I laughed and laughed: we were two to a bicycle. But it came at a price as I got 1 knee kicked (I was the backside of the horse) and now have a black bruised lumpy knee!!!!! It was my bad one too… But I did laugh sooooooooooo much. Got to meet half the town in the bar…… cute drummer with dreads….. mmm….. rock concert then a reggae one…. but 4am-7am sleep was not enough…. and today’s freak weather GALE-FORCE winds!!!!!!!!!!!! I had to scrape my dirty salty hair into a hat, I wash bashed about in the rubbish filled sea and got sand in my knickers and bra… Then… oh… the trip back was most enjoyable: I got to lie down with a whining dog in my ear being sick and piercing my eardrums for an hour….
At least I got a quick tan!!!
Also….
I hate Italian men…. I told him that he needed to cool it… the 100000000000 phone calls and silent brooding because I wouldn’t give him ‘what he wants’ really scared me… I had a tight-chest in his company…
Now he knows that I’m not that easy he has disappeared.
Its kinda sad but true…
They are blockheads…
They can only talk about food, sex and football…
They are a 3rd world country dressed up in Armani with cheap hair gel…
A bunch of robotic clones.
They only talk to you for the first date because they think they can get their leg over. Then they stop. Just like that. Yer they invite you out again, but they are aggressive and call you a nun!
They only put in a little bit of effort to tell you all the things they ‘will do for you’ if you give them what they want! Pure bribery!…
You are ‘married’ after the first date…
But you have to suffer because they don’t want to talk to you or find out who you are. They just wanna….You know…
Well… I love Americans, Englishmen, Estonians anything slightly Nordic!!!!!!
Italians make me wanna vom…. Well, I guess I did us both a favour.
Oh, and I shouldn’t take defense classes he says coz at the end of the day I am a weak woman and if a guy wants to rape me he will do it anyway!!!!!!!!! So he tells me!!!!!!!!!! What kind of a chauvinistic place is this?
I love men – but I hate these pigs … they aren’t men… they are barbie doll kens with mushy peas for brains… Ugh….
I’m outta here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
