It was our first outing together. Nothing less than a week in Salou, in the heart of Mediterranean beach, in the month of July, and in full swing in our relationship. We left Madrid
morning in a rickety bus, of which no longer exist or scrapping. The seats were like stone, the suspension was suspended (did not exist, go), and the air conditioning was gossiping about plastic stuck to the roof of the trunk, not even moving and, of course, threw the air. Someone had put there to hide, I suppose, like those chemical toilets that are available to all modern buses and, in circumstances that still do not know, never work. Times were different. A Pilar and I do not care the least inconvenience. To have each other and we had plenty enough for us. We spent almost the entire trip making plans for the rest of the week, mulling over how much fun it was to be Salou, and what fun we were going to happen.
After a fourteen-hour trip (would be considerably less, but we seemed to fourteen), and a couple of stops on the way to eat and to straighten out the legs, we finally arrived to Salou in the afternoon. After crossing the entire area center so famous summer resort, with their guards, their cars, their families, with umbrella, their congestion, their jobs and vacationers churros shirt tied at the belly, the bus dropped us off at a hotel in the northern or too far or too close to the hub, but yes, pretty close to the beach.
We were young, we face lovebirds, I suppose, and so we spent what we had to pass. The English picaresque has no limits, and not crooks. After going accommodating all passengers in the bus (I think we all had taken notes at the same agency) in order of age, more mature younger us was the turn of the last couple or so of our age, and us. I already had quite a while, while waiting, tired and sitting on our bags, listening to sounds of drills, miter saws, electric saws and jackhammers to that seemed to come from another wing of the hotel was under construction. Pilar, that stuff has always been very long, also realized quickly. "Here are works," he said. Anyway, the receptionist, a man with slicked, slick gray suit and more than the president of a raffle, met us at four, and without a hair cut, he said that the area was not left alone works a room, the room was another area full of rubble, bricks and cement, and we had no choice but to negotiate with us to see who was the crown jewel, the habitation of the area free of vandals. The guy from the other couple looked at us with eyes of lamb, and said OK, come on, you lot. Pilar and I looked, with that gesture between us has always meant that "and some balls" and without exchanging any comments, we headed straight to the receptionist. "Look," he said, with a very low voice, lest we hear the other couple, but very firm. A tone that has always been successful, both as a mi-Pilar, if you intend rent us both to the other couples like us, a room in a work zone, right now we're four for consumption, after passing the police station, and we put a complaint you close the stall you in half an hour. Do not you know that renting a room in a work zone is completely illegal? ". Needless to say, I had no fucking idea whether that was illegal or not, but I guess that yes he was, but the fact is that this good man "changed color" as they say in the villages. Turned white, looked again a notebook, or whatever else you have on the counter (Pillar I said then, starting to laugh, that what had was watched TV programs), and immediately he said "excuse me, but he looked bad. Are two rooms in this area. " The other couple were melted in gratitude, because despite my attempt at discretion, they heard my rant. Throughout the week, every time we found them somewhere (Salou is very small, or it was before, I mean), thanking us again what we had done for them, allowing them to sleep in a room conditions.
In Salou Pilar happened to me with something that has been repeated many times along our journey together. The fact that she had traveled a lot before he met me, not only for Spain but for many parts of Europe, enabled him to pose as knowledgeable. Of course I knew Salou, a trip he had made small with their parents. The first night I took her arm and guide our steps toward the center. "Come over here and see if we see the sources of color." Their memories were vague, as she herself said, but gave the very bloody first with fountains of Salou that change color with a sophisticated lighting system. The counterpoint to that night, like most, they put the two huge ice cream, king size, we got under his belt not entrust to anyone. During
the day we tumbábamos like lizards on the beach, to hack around and swim occasionally. Tuti We were plain, as the aristocrats, renting a straw umbrella the size of the circus tent of the Sun, and two plastic chairs to do what its name suggests, ie lie down. The first day, as they happen to urbanites, Pilar spent a bit of sun, and turned red as a tomato, but not even burn. The color of his skin took, curiously, the same red color that had the bikini she was wearing, so that when looked at with eyes closed, looked like he was naked. Luckily, no blood reached the river, and the sun was so harmful as now, what with a few hands of crema, the thing was over, and the next day we returned to enjoy the sunny day, but in moderation.
night, after dinner, we were devoted to compass the city. We've always liked all kinds of dive shops. Pilar laughed when I said that a site shop Beach without floats, buckets for sand and rubber ducks, there was a place of beach and Salou, in that sense not only meets, but surpasses all forecasts. There, and there was all kinds of shops. Clothing, ornaments, electronic gossip impossible classification, tacky, who like the foreigners, of memories made shells with pins to clothes, or painted mussel shells, leather belts, bags, shoes (to Pilar's eyes shone when she saw a shop or shoe bags) of "Guarrera" ... A complete world-compulsive consumer
Once we got into a kind of attraction that was the first time I went to Spain. Today is more than overcome, but at that time was a novelty. This was the version Saloureña "(I have no idea what the place name) of the passage of terror, which makes a journey through different rooms where there are actors portraying famous scenes horror movies of all time. The truth is that we were impressed, especially when the actress who played the girl in the Exorcist, which had a crazy look that could not with her, got out of bed, threw on the side of Pilar and me, we were the last of the group, and began to insult quietly, saying "you bastards, I'm very wrong, that really kill you, I have a knife (and noted the front), and here nobody knows, motherfuckers. .. ". When you reach the next room, the good woman turned around and went back to bed to await the next group.
never know if the woman was actually crazy, or was an actress from head to toe, but the fact is that I can hardly recall another time in our life where we have been more afraid.
morning in a rickety bus, of which no longer exist or scrapping. The seats were like stone, the suspension was suspended (did not exist, go), and the air conditioning was gossiping about plastic stuck to the roof of the trunk, not even moving and, of course, threw the air. Someone had put there to hide, I suppose, like those chemical toilets that are available to all modern buses and, in circumstances that still do not know, never work. Times were different. A Pilar and I do not care the least inconvenience. To have each other and we had plenty enough for us. We spent almost the entire trip making plans for the rest of the week, mulling over how much fun it was to be Salou, and what fun we were going to happen.
After a fourteen-hour trip (would be considerably less, but we seemed to fourteen), and a couple of stops on the way to eat and to straighten out the legs, we finally arrived to Salou in the afternoon. After crossing the entire area center so famous summer resort, with their guards, their cars, their families, with umbrella, their congestion, their jobs and vacationers churros shirt tied at the belly, the bus dropped us off at a hotel in the northern or too far or too close to the hub, but yes, pretty close to the beach.
We were young, we face lovebirds, I suppose, and so we spent what we had to pass. The English picaresque has no limits, and not crooks. After going accommodating all passengers in the bus (I think we all had taken notes at the same agency) in order of age, more mature younger us was the turn of the last couple or so of our age, and us. I already had quite a while, while waiting, tired and sitting on our bags, listening to sounds of drills, miter saws, electric saws and jackhammers to that seemed to come from another wing of the hotel was under construction. Pilar, that stuff has always been very long, also realized quickly. "Here are works," he said. Anyway, the receptionist, a man with slicked, slick gray suit and more than the president of a raffle, met us at four, and without a hair cut, he said that the area was not left alone works a room, the room was another area full of rubble, bricks and cement, and we had no choice but to negotiate with us to see who was the crown jewel, the habitation of the area free of vandals. The guy from the other couple looked at us with eyes of lamb, and said OK, come on, you lot. Pilar and I looked, with that gesture between us has always meant that "and some balls" and without exchanging any comments, we headed straight to the receptionist. "Look," he said, with a very low voice, lest we hear the other couple, but very firm. A tone that has always been successful, both as a mi-Pilar, if you intend rent us both to the other couples like us, a room in a work zone, right now we're four for consumption, after passing the police station, and we put a complaint you close the stall you in half an hour. Do not you know that renting a room in a work zone is completely illegal? ". Needless to say, I had no fucking idea whether that was illegal or not, but I guess that yes he was, but the fact is that this good man "changed color" as they say in the villages. Turned white, looked again a notebook, or whatever else you have on the counter (Pillar I said then, starting to laugh, that what had was watched TV programs), and immediately he said "excuse me, but he looked bad. Are two rooms in this area. " The other couple were melted in gratitude, because despite my attempt at discretion, they heard my rant. Throughout the week, every time we found them somewhere (Salou is very small, or it was before, I mean), thanking us again what we had done for them, allowing them to sleep in a room conditions.
In Salou Pilar happened to me with something that has been repeated many times along our journey together. The fact that she had traveled a lot before he met me, not only for Spain but for many parts of Europe, enabled him to pose as knowledgeable. Of course I knew Salou, a trip he had made small with their parents. The first night I took her arm and guide our steps toward the center. "Come over here and see if we see the sources of color." Their memories were vague, as she herself said, but gave the very bloody first with fountains of Salou that change color with a sophisticated lighting system. The counterpoint to that night, like most, they put the two huge ice cream, king size, we got under his belt not entrust to anyone. During
the day we tumbábamos like lizards on the beach, to hack around and swim occasionally. Tuti We were plain, as the aristocrats, renting a straw umbrella the size of the circus tent of the Sun, and two plastic chairs to do what its name suggests, ie lie down. The first day, as they happen to urbanites, Pilar spent a bit of sun, and turned red as a tomato, but not even burn. The color of his skin took, curiously, the same red color that had the bikini she was wearing, so that when looked at with eyes closed, looked like he was naked. Luckily, no blood reached the river, and the sun was so harmful as now, what with a few hands of crema, the thing was over, and the next day we returned to enjoy the sunny day, but in moderation.
night, after dinner, we were devoted to compass the city. We've always liked all kinds of dive shops. Pilar laughed when I said that a site shop Beach without floats, buckets for sand and rubber ducks, there was a place of beach and Salou, in that sense not only meets, but surpasses all forecasts. There, and there was all kinds of shops. Clothing, ornaments, electronic gossip impossible classification, tacky, who like the foreigners, of memories made shells with pins to clothes, or painted mussel shells, leather belts, bags, shoes (to Pilar's eyes shone when she saw a shop or shoe bags) of "Guarrera" ... A complete world-compulsive consumer
Once we got into a kind of attraction that was the first time I went to Spain. Today is more than overcome, but at that time was a novelty. This was the version Saloureña "(I have no idea what the place name) of the passage of terror, which makes a journey through different rooms where there are actors portraying famous scenes horror movies of all time. The truth is that we were impressed, especially when the actress who played the girl in the Exorcist, which had a crazy look that could not with her, got out of bed, threw on the side of Pilar and me, we were the last of the group, and began to insult quietly, saying "you bastards, I'm very wrong, that really kill you, I have a knife (and noted the front), and here nobody knows, motherfuckers. .. ". When you reach the next room, the good woman turned around and went back to bed to await the next group.
never know if the woman was actually crazy, or was an actress from head to toe, but the fact is that I can hardly recall another time in our life where we have been more afraid.
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