BARCELONA: TIME OUT!

This blog has become rather shit recently. I'm hardly posting at all, at the moment. There are a number of reasons for this. They are:

1. I spend 99.9% of my life at this time working! This means I do not have a social life anymore!

2. I have nothing to write about other than work! That's not to say there isn't anything to write about at work. It's just I'm not allowed to say anything about work! We have memos going round all the time not to say anything, even to your parents! My parents don't even watch the programme, they couldn't care less on the storyline unless it was Coronation street or Downton Abbey! It feels a little bit like a dictatorship or a bad episode of Big Brother (well that would be every episode then!) where some one is watching over you all the time. We live in fears of our lives! OK I'm being a bit dramatic now, but you get the picture don't you? Their quite strict!

3. I'm tired 99.9% of the time! And when I say tired I mean tired. It's that
That kind of tired where when you wake up in the morning it's painful! That kind of tired where your not in touch of reality anymore, just some zombie like state. That kind of tired where everything gets on your nerves, including people; even people that you really like. All they have to do is breath and there getting on your nerves!

4. I'm totally run down. This actually makes no sense! I'm living the healthiest life style I've had in years. I'm not really drinking, I'm eating good; not partying much and wait for it! Yes! I've joined a gym! I know me of all people has joined a gym! I'm a bit addicted actually. I go 3-4 times a week! All this said I have felt awful recently. My glands have been up; I have bags under my eyes and a mouth full of ulcers! Maybe I should go back to partying?

Luckily we were given a 2 week break from it all. I went back to London for my first week, after a long absence from the city. I found it tiring and stressful. I have no base anymore in the city and I found myself moving round from sofa to sofa at different friends houses. I didn't like not having a home in London anymore. I just wanted to get away.
Mariel my old housemate from Spain has been saying for years I could go and stay with her in Barcelona, but I had never taken her up on the offer, until now. So I booked myself onto one of those Easy jet flights and found myself in the much needed heat and sunshine of Barcelona.
Mariel lived 30 minutes outside of Barcelona by train next to the sea. She met me at the station and after a catch up drink at the local beach bar where we couldn't stay too long as she had parked her car illegally (this is why she got a lot of parking fines when she lived in London!) we got to her apartment, and to my delight I was to have a room of my own, and no more sofas!

Mariel had arranged for Anna who had also worked with us in Almeria earlier in the year, to come round for dinner that night. Anna is basically hot, (to be fair so is Mariel) and she tottered in, in the smallest pair of hot pants, tanned and beautiful, as ever. There is more to Anna than her looks, as she is warm, caring and cooks some mean food.
It being Spain, meant we were on Latin time and so we didn't start eating until after 10pm. 10 minutes later I can't eat anymore.
"Fuckin hell Tia! You have not eaten a lot" says Mariel.
* N.B Tia is a word used a lot in this post. In Spanish it's means aunty but is now used as slang, in the way we say love or I say love a lot. Tia is usually preceded a lot by "Fuckin hell" or "Bloody Hell" in a thick Spanish accent too, in this post!
Anyway where was I? Oh right Latin eating times. Well as I explained my English body was not use to it, as well as the heat and plus I was wearing a really cute 1950's skirt which felt like it had a 4 inch waist, thus food intake was restricted!
We spent the rest of the night talking and playing music, to the early hours of the morning. I knew then I had made the right decision coming to Barcelona.

I did the whole tourist sightseeing thing the next day, but to be fair I wasn't in the mood for much and my body was far too tired to be a tourist. After that I spent most of my days at the beach or by the pool, reading or listening to music. In the evenings, Mariel would return from work and we would sit and eat on the balcony or the chiringuito (which means Spanish beach bar) as we called it. We would have during these times the most indepth conversations for hours on end. During the conversations I realised that me and Mariel were more similar than I ever thought we were.
"Tia! We are the same tribe me and you."
Mariel is now seeing a Spainsh musician who is famous in Spain. He is handsome, fun, crazy and exciting, but through our conversations I always felt a tinge of sadness, that deep down inside this man would never quite give her what she needed. I saw myself in her, in pursuit of the highs and excitement, but always deep down inside knowing that there would never be a happy ending, as much as I try and convince myself there will be. I'm not stupid but I lie to myself all the time. I looked at Mariel. She is not stupid either, but I saw her lying to herself, just like I do.

Why do we do it to ourselves? Mariel summed it for me.
"The problem Tia is this! We go for Peter pan men!
"Peter Pan men?"
"Yes! Peter Pan men Tia! Men that are children, who don't want any responsibility, or commitment. Men that will never grow up!"
"Why?"
"Because we think and act like a child ourselves. We want to play, but we are not children, we are women in our 30's. We need to think as our adults."
Oh Jesus! I'm a child! I'd never thought of it like that, but the more I did the more it made sense, my behaviour, my decisions. I'm a child, a bloody child, and it's taken another child to tell me that! I went to bed that night, with a different out look on life, through getting to know Mariel better, and knew who I was more.

Through travelling and having foreign boyfriends I have got use to being around people that speak another language from me. I have often been excluded from conversations because of my lack of knowledge of other languages. Most of the time it doesn't bother me, I'm quite laid back and that's just the way it is, but because I have actually started to learn Spanish and love the Latin people and their way of life it bothers me that until I learn the language I will always be an outsider. I felt this especially in Barcelona. My whole time was spent with locals, Spanish speakers, and Mariel's friends, who were always lovely to me and spoke English when they could, but in general I could never truly be part of a conversation. It's frustrating when your such an expressive person like me, and not being able to express yourself. I never felt they really got to see the real me. I turn into this shy little blushing girl when I can't communicate and this is not the real me. I'm made of much more than that. All that said I had a great time, hanging out with Mariel and Anna; from retro dancing to drawing homemade tattoo's on ourselves.

Mariel had to go to her cousins wedding on the Saturday so as you would do with a child, she put me in the hands of Anna to be responsible of me for a night. Anna decided we should go clubbing. Too be fair, even though I class myself as a party girl I don't really do night clubs anymore, but I would never turn down the offer of going to one.

Anna met me at the metro and tossed me a helmet.
"We go to my house."
It was then I saw her scooter and helmet. Jesus! I thought, I'm going to get on a scooter with a tiny girl, who is wearing an even more tiny dress; how is this going to work? Luckily, Anna seemed to be an expert at moving around Barcelona at high speed, with passengers, in a Lycra mini dress on a scooter. After the usual girly thing of food, drinks, music and getting ready at Anna's, we left for the night club at the usual Latin time of 1.30am. We got free entry due to Annas friend, Nico, who we met up with. Anna looked hot to trot in tight jeans and a crop top, where as I felt like the tall gangly friend in the back ground, who no one took really much notice of. Luckily one of Anna's many suitors that night was the barman, which meant we got tons of free shots and in no time, I'm drunk and don't really care that I'm the giraffe of the group. After that the night becomes a little blurry, but as the sun came up and Anna was still chatting to the barman, I had got chatting to a group of Spanish guys who wanted me to go to an after party with them. Anna said no, and the next thing Mariel is being put on the phone to me telling me, I can't go either. Mariel is thinking in her adult and now I'm the child again, but the child that is listening this time. I go home with Anna, but not before she snogs the face of the bar man off, through the car window, while I pretend to make sick noises and put my finger down my throat. The child in me is definately out! We crawl into bed at 8.30am. So Latin!

At 2.00pm I'm woken by Anna.
"Come on Carly! We go thee beach! We meet Mariel. It's your last day. Get out of bed."
I feel like shit, but follow orders, slowly! After another crazy ride on a scooter with Anna, we arrive at the beach to find Mariel layout in all her topless glory full of tales from the wedding. I'm too hungover to follow any Spanish, so let them babble on, not caring what there saying, until there is a gasp and Anna starts ducking down. The barman from the nightclub is straight in front of us. I wonder why she doesn't call him over, but then I realise we are all topless and in bikinis, so it's probably not the best idea. I do tell Anna though, that's she's done well, as he has a body to die for. Anna is pleased with herself, but she isn't too fussed as the barman is plan B. Yes plan B people and I don't mean that stupid singer guy. It's seems that the barman is not the only guy in Annas life. she has another. Mariel informs me she has a plan B too. They tell me, ever girl needs a plan B to fall back on to and that I need a Plan B too. I tell them that a bloody plan A would be nice, before I start thinking of plan B. God! I think I need to take the Spanish girls approach to men.

I spent my last night in Barcelona at Mariel's grandmothers apartment as it was nearer the airport. It was a big sprawling apartment full of catholicism and works of art that looked like they should of been in the Prado. Me Mariel stayed up and ate pizza and had a final late night conversation. I realised I was going to miss my chats with her, as I felt like even though we are from a different country and different cultures, we understand each other entirely. We are the same tribe! As I said goodbye to her that night, I had tears in my eyes. I didn't want to leave. Coming to Barcelona was exactly what I had needed. I felt rested and happy once again, but I had also learnt a lot too, especially about myself.
Mariel said;
"Fuckin hell Tia! You want to live abroad, you come back to Barcelona and live here."
Maybe I will, I thought and that thought hasn't faded from my mind since!

THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY

Hmm! The good is I guess getting the chance to travel and meeting new people; the bad is without a doubt the hours; and the ugly? Well I guess that could be classed as a crew night out! Yes, this is the good, the bad, and the ugly of my job, and I got to experience all three of these aspects recently.

My job took me back to film in Spain once again. This time I found myself filming down in Almeria in the South near the Tabernas desert, which is the only real desert in Europe (I love a geek fact)! One packed, uncomfortable flight on Easy Jet later, we landed at Alicante airport, for a long 4 hour drive down to Almeria. Luckily I was greeted by some familiar faces, as half the Spanish crew had worked on Benidorm with me last year. After the grey skies of Cardiff, the beautiful blue sky of Spain seemed like heaven and quickly lay down on a whole back seat of a car, after outwitting most of the crew and making a dash for the empty vehicle. I lay there happily with the sun shining on my face and I felt I could of stayed there forever.
Unfortunately I couldn't stay there forever, as there was work to be done and lots of it (This wasn't a holiday you know)! We were filming on a western set just outside Almeria, where such films as The Good, the Bad, and the ugly; Fistful of Dollars; and that Depeche Mode video, Your own Personal Jesus (love that song) had been filmed. I got a bit excited about this as I'm a film geek. I kept walking a long the street or stepping into a building, thinking that Clint Eastwood had been here, and even better Clint when he was at his hottest! I didn't find any trace of Clint. Instead I had to make do with some camels (we called them Lady Bella Donna and Humphrey) , mules and horses. Actually I was very happy being surrounded by horses as I love them and use to ride every weekend for 10 years. In truth I'd probably not swap them for Clint, even when he was at his hottest!

It being our first night there and with all the work we had to do the next morning, we decided to have a quiet night. 6 hours; a couple of glasses of vino; Gin & Tonics; fairy light sunglasses; assaulting a bulls head; finding a bar with a lot of ham hanging from the ceiling ( We originally named it the Ham Bar!); a few smashed glasses later I decided to be sensible and call it a night. Kat was much more hard core than me as I don't think she really had any sleep?

I had drafted in my friend Rob to come and help as we had so many extras. I'd met him originally through his boyfriend but then he asked me to assist him on a Chase and Status promo and we got on like a house on fire. We have the same kind of temperament; don't really take life to seriously; and know how to have a laugh, and he came over to Spain and did exactly that. Me, him and Kat for some reason started talking to each other in some southern yank drawl and as Rob always sat outside on his break constantly but calmy, puffing on a cigarette we started to fondly call him, Bobby 2 Smokes. I think he liked it, and it has stuck.

This was one hell of a job so I needed more help than just Bobby 2 Smokes! So I drafted in my old house from London, Mariel who is Spanish and now resides in Barcelona. The first time I ever met Mariel, was in cafe as my other friend Deb's was sorting out a bag full of unpaid Parking tickets for her. Mariel did not really see why she had to pay them. She would also leave the front door open; walk round naked; and bring people back for a party at midnight, which usually included the strumming of a guitar till the early hours, even though you had to be up for work at some God dam awful hour. As frustrating as it could be sometimes, I always admired Mariel's free Latin spirit and wished I had more of it in me. I hadn't seen Mariel in nearly 2 years, not liked she had changed. She came in whipped the extras into shape; tried to teach the English crew English and shouted at them when they got it wrong; told Howard he looked like a lobster boss after he burnt his face; and cornered our director into a conversation (our directors strong point wasn't social skills!) while waving a cigarette around, about where he was from; did he like Spain and did he know that the Spanish were real stoners! Me and Bobby 2 spaces couldn't stop laughing in the back ground. Everyone loves Mariel. You can't not love her. She is infectious with her warmth, fun, and care free ways. I'd forgotten how much I liked being around her.

I enjoyed every morning getting the cast dressed and then stealing an apple from catering and feeding and patting the horses. I liked seeing tourists go by on horse driven carriage, taking photos; I liked watching the cowboys perform stunts; and I loved looking at the sunrise and set everyday over the beautiful mountains. In truth I got quite happily lost in my own little fantasy western world for a while and when it was over, I felt a sadness come over me. I can't tell you much of what happened there as its more than my life is worth (so sorry that this is a dull post) but I can tell it was an enjoyable, fun experience and I have happy memories of my Western adventure.

I now have to satisfy my needs by watching western films (I watched the Good, the Bad and the Ugly as soon as I got back!) and I also find myself reading a western novel: The sister Brothers by Patrick de Witt. Apart from having a cool front cover, it's an amazing book. Please read it.

I will now leave you with a cool trailer from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. Probably one of the best film scores ever. Enjoy cowboys.

TOLEDO: SOLA

While I was with Martin, he told me something interesting. The word Tapas does not just mean a type of food. It means food that is shared. This sums up Spain totally for me. Everything in this country is about sharing; family comes first; community is important and socialising runs deep in people's veins. I thought the south Americans were a friendly race but it seems the Spanish are just as nice, if not even more. It made me think what a cold, odd bunch, we British are. Actually underneath it all we are not, just a little bit repressed, and not sure how to express our emotions properly, hence we drink too much (Well that's the excuse I give to other nations every time I see ANOTHER drunk Brit collapsed or puking in the street)!

So I'm sat at a train station in Madrid waiting for a train to Toledo, and I'm feeling quite sorry for myself, as I've messed up the time I could of had with Martin and I'm nervous about being on my own all of a sudden. I hate it when one feels sorry for themselves as I think it's a little bit pathetic. I decide to snap myself out of it. Besides I tell myself, why the hell are you nervous about traveling for 3 days in Spain on your own; you have just spent the last 5 months traveling around south America on your own! Sort it out!
I arrive at Toledo, and realise I haven't got a clue where I'm going to stay, so I ask my taxi driver in bad Spanish to take me to the cheapest place he knows. He drops me near a small hotel on the outskirts of the old walls of the city and puts me into the care of the owner (A friend of his), a middle age señora who has a face like a bull dog chewing on a wasp. I'm a bit scared of her.
"How many people?" she barks at me in Spanish.
" Just me" I reply quickly
"What! Your on your own?"
"Si. Estoy sola" I reply.
She suddenly softens. Oh my God! I think she feels sorry for me. No I don't want you to feel sorry for me!
"Porque (Why)? She now asks.
That's a bit bloody personal I think, but as I'm still scared of her I answer, in bad Spanish.
"I was working in Spain and now I'm on vacation". I was going to tell her that I actually might not have been on my own, if I'd hadn't of messed up by not being open with a guy, but as I don't have the words to say that in Spanish I think we would have been there till Christmas, and besides she was already starting to look bored. She shows me to my room. Within in 5 minutes of being there I manage to lock myself out of my room, then I can't open the door when I get another key, and I can't get the wi-fi to work (How the hell did I survive in South America)! This seems to annoy señora a lot as it keeps interrupting her cigarette. I don't think this is a bad thing though as I thinks she smokes to much anyway.

As I set out on a walk of the city, señora and her husband (who believe it or not is quite handsome and younger than her; well done señora!) give me a detailed map and instructions as by now señora believes I am totally useless and shouldn't really be let loose on my own.
Now I'd read about Toledo and Martin had told me it was one of the most beautiful places in Spain. It also use to be the old capital of Spain before Madrid. It didn't disappoint. The medieval city perched high on a hill is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen. It is also very romantic! As I walked round all I could see were couples walking round, kissing and holding hands. Great! Just what I need I thought. Toledo as well as being pretty is a complete maze and in no time I'm completely lost amongst the narrow medieval streets. While looking a señora's map for the hundredth time, thinking, "Wasn't I on this street five minutes ago"? I notice a man watching me, smoking a cigarette. As I walked on I realised he was too. Fifteen minutes later with the map back out, he's still there following me and not making a very good job of disguising it. It's nearly dark now, I'm totally lost still and starving. I find the nearest restaurant, and sit down. My stalker decides on the same restaurant and sits down at a table opposite mine and just sits there staring at me, still smoking a cigarette. Great! The waiter comes over and whacks down two menu's with the impression that someone is coming to joining me.
"No. I only need one. I'm alone" I say in Spanish.
"Oh! Sorry" he said.
The stalker is still staring and smoking. I decide I want paella as I'm in Spain and I haven't had any yet. The waiter returns to take my order.
"I'll have the paella please".
"I'm sorry but the paella is for two people, it's not a single person dish".
What! What! I'm on my own, due to my own doing, in probably one of the romantic places I have been to, I'm totally lost, starving, I've got some freak stalker sat there just smoking and staring at me like he has done for the last half an hour and all I want is a bloody paella and you can't give it to me because I'm SOLA!!! Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhh!!! Of course I don't say this as I'm English. I just smile and ask for the salad instead.
I decide to call it a night and lose the stalker, finally find my way back to the hotel and sit content on my bed. A bit of telly before bed, I think to myself. I switch the telly on to find a couple making love. Double arrrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!

I loved my time in Toledo but I didn't feel comfort being on my own there, which is strange for someone who has travelled half the world on her own. I felt wave of comfort at the thought of going back to Madrid, as I sat waiting for the train. That was until I got sat with three American women, who during my 45 minute journey with them, didn't let me get a word in edge ways, but I don't think I could of spoke if they let me anyway, as I was to busy staring at their bad plastic surgery! They were also fanning themselves every two seconds with their fans, which I wondered was, because they were soooooo plastic they thought they might be melting in the heat. During my journey I learnt or was told that I should travel the world as much as possible (I actually have but you didn't give me the chance to say that), to have as many lovers as possible (One of them did ask me if I was single, but didn't wait for the reply), and make sure there as rich as possible (Well if you had asked me if I was materialistic or false, I would of reply, NO)! I guess it was a interesting journey though.

I checked into a hostel, with the guy behind the front desk thinking he was pretty smooth asking me where I had just come from.
"Toledo" I replied
"And did you like it?" he asked
"Yes! It was very beautiful"!
"Not as beautiful as you. You are more beautiful than Toledo" he said. Oh my God! He must think I was born yesterday. I bet he says that to every girl that comes here.
As I settle into my dormitory a fellow roomy checks in. She is another American and looks very nervous.
"I've never stayed in a hostel before" she tells me, " but this one looked nice on the Internet and the guy at the front is very nice. He just told me I was the most beautiful girl in the hostel!"
I knew it! She then asks me if I'm on my own. I tell her I was with a friend, and then a guy, but now I'm on my own. This seems to make her think that I'm good person to talk to then? The next thing I know I'm being told her whole life story, how she has left to travel because some guy in New York has broke her heart. She looks like she's going to cry. Oh no! She is! I've only known her 5 minutes. I don't really know what to do.
"Well there are plenty more fish in sea. Anyway I really have to go and get something to eat. Bye!"
I know I'm heartless.

I found myself a restaurant in a square and sat with my book and watched the world go by. It was there on my last night in Spain that I realised I was once again happy in my own company and it felt good. It's alright to be sola, I thought.

MADRID: A TALE OF A SHORT REUNION

A couple of weeks ago, I was checking my emails as normal, when in between the usual old junk I get sent, I saw a message from a name I never thought I'd see again. It was Martin. For those of you who don't know or are not regular readers of this blog, Martin was a Spanish guy I met on my travels in Colombia, who lived and worked there. Read this post Blondes have more fun, don't they? if you want to know more or a recap. Anyway back to the email. He wrote to tell me that he was back living in Madrid, that he had read my blog (How embarrassing!) and that we would one day meet again. I was surprised. We had not had any contact since I said goodbye, in Bogota. I had thought about contacting him again, but thought it pointless and presumed he would forget about me as soon as I left. I took it for what it was, a holiday romance and decided I had to be content with just the nice memories.

This email came at a time though, that by coincidence I had just found out I was going to be working in Spain for 2 weeks and by a even bigger coincidence I was planning to come to Madrid to meet up with my friend Bec's to do some sightseeing, after my job ended! I took this as a sign that I had to meet up with him.

I arrived in Madrid tired from working, but excited to be in a new city and to be hanging out on travels, like old times with one of my best friends, Bec's. Me and Bec's had traveled India together years ago and even though we are quite different, we also have very similar attributes which include being easy going and laid back. We also have a tendency of getting ourselves into situations. For example with only one month in India we managed to get molested by some Israeli guys; I got a chest and throat infection; I collapsed; Bec's cursed the God's thus getting a nose & eye infection that lasted for month's (never curse the God's); we tried to feed some monkeys which resulted in them trying to ransack our guesthouse, so we had to lock ourselves in our room only to be saved by some old Indian guy with an umbrella peg (I later saw a sign that said don't feed the monkeys: Oophs!); we went on a walk in the midday heat, over rocks, with no water and only wearing flip flops, only for bec's to fall over in the mud, and cut all her ankle open; Oh! Oh! and yes, there was the incident in the women's carriage on the train where we started a war and had a whole carriage of Indian women defending us and slamming the shutters down on all the male chi sellers, because they said something rude in Hindi about us, just because Bec's was showing her knee's (I never did find out what they actually said, but I'm sure it was something like slags or whores)! Yes! Me & Bec's certainly know how to travel?

Actually this trip passed without any trauma, though we did have to have our little Carly and Bec's moment which was to do with our timings. We all know that the Latin's like to go out late. So this is what me and Bec's decided to do. Unfortunately we decided to be more Latin than the Latin's and for 2 nights in a row found that we had left it too late to get food, as everywhere had stopped serving food. I like the fact that we got dressed up in our nice dresses (I mean breasts!), to stand on a backstreet in Madrid eating a €1 pizza from a takeaway and then finished our night stood over a air vent, thinking we were Marilyn Monroe, and not two silly girls who had probably exposed their knickers to most of the neighbourhood or the passing taxi drivers? True Carly & Becky class!

Bec's went back to London and I was left waiting nervously at a Metro station for Martin. As I sat there thoughts started flying through my head: What if I don't recognise him, it's been over 5 months since I last saw him and I never had a photo of him; what if he doesn't recognise me? ( Not likely, there is nothing about you that looks Latin remember!); What if he's different? What if it's uncomfortable? I decided to stop thinking and read my book instead. A couple of minutes later I heard a voice I knew and looked up to see him standing there. He looked the same (actually better, as he now had a tan) and I shouldn't of worried as he was still the same. He talked of his time in Colombia, his travels since then and how he was glad to be back in Madrid. I spoke of the rest of my adventures in South America. It was good to see him again and later as he was hugging me, as we talked and kissed he said " Its a shame that you are not staying more days in Spain". Oh! Maybe this is the point I should tell him something that maybe I should of mentioned by now?
" Well actually I am"!
"What, really"! He looks a little a bit shocked.
"Yeah, I decided to stay the weekend so I'm going home Monday now, not tomorrow".
He looks confused now. "Why didn't you tell me"?
Yes why didn't I tell him? I'm starting to feel a bit stupid now, so I do what I do best and go on the defence.
"Well I thought you'd be busy anyway, you always are".
I'm now thinking that he is thinking I'm mad.
"Well I actually didn't have any plans for this weekend until a couple of days ago. I've just booked and paid to go away with all my friends (He was going on Spain's version of a stag do). If I'd known I would of rearranged it. How long have you known you were staying"? I turn into a little girl and feel the colour run to my cheeks (He seems to have this effect on me) and I reply with embarrassment "Over a week".
I'm actually starting to think I'm mad too and feeling very silly. Now, what was my reasonings for not telling him? I believe it was:
1. I am an independent woman and I like to do my own thing.

2. I do not like to depend on anyone.

3. I don't need to spend much time with anyone.

4. I'm just God dam stubborn!

5. I can't think of a fifth.

Erase all of the above I'm just stupid and shit with men. It's now sat there talking to him, I realise I did want to spend the weekend with him, I just couldn't admit it to myself. Loca chica.

I decide to get over my bad decision quickly as what's done is done. Martin decided to show the way a real Spanish Tapas was done. Now me and Bec's had walked past a lot of the traditional Spanish cafe's but found it quite intimidating as we couldn't figure out how it quite worked. Now I know this sounds a little dumb, but it wasn't like how a normal restaurant worked. So this is how to do it. Firstly no one really sits down, or if they do, it's at small tables with no set place. First thing to do is to get a small beer, then comes a basket of bread. The only menu is on the wall and you order behind the bar. This place we went to did croquette tapas. Martin ordered 8 different favours which came on one plate which we then shared between us. Then Martin tried to navigate me through Madrid's bars. Madrid has more bars than any other city in the world, six in fact to every 100 inhabitants. After going to another bar for more tapas, we found ourselves in an Indie bar, which seem quite strange for me to be singing along to the Happy Mondays in the middle of Madrid. To be fair though we spent most of our time with Martin trying to attempt to teach me more Spanish. Now this under normal circumstances is a hard task indeed; under the influence of alcohol, it's virtually impossible, though actually more fun, as it turned into a tipsy game of hangman and scribbles on any piece of paper we could find. Believe it or not I did remember and learn something that night, but I'm not telling you what it was! The night ended in another bar, with me downing a free tequila shot with the barman. Always a good end to a night.

The next afternoon I found myself with my backpack at the same metro stop with Martin where I had met him the day before, but this time we were saying goodbye. We hugged and said it was nice to see each other again. He couldn't believe I was still staying on in Spain, I was reminded again of my stupid mistake. I asked him if he thought we would see each other again. He said he thought we would, but as I said goodbye I thought it was for the last time, but then I thought it last time. I am learning to say never say never again. Who knows? One thing I do know though, is, if it does happen again I will give him some notice this time. Lesson learnt! Next stop Toledo, on my own or as they say in Spanish; Sola!

OBSERVATIONS

* The Spanish seem to eat their bread plain without any butter like I do, which makes me very happy as I don't feel like a freak anymore. Thank you.

* I thought the Argentineans or the Brazilians were the most beautiful race but I think the Spanish may beat them, well the young population anyway, the old become like the rest of us.

* There really big on serving you ready salted crisps with every thing!

* Bec's told me how to recognise the people they call Barcelona Types: they usually have lots of piercings, wear bad tie dye clothing, have one or two dreadlocks hanging from the back of their heads and look like they haven't washed in a year. So like most of the travellers I met in India.

GOOD GIRLS GO TO HEAVEN, BAD GIRLS GO TO BENIDORM!

The other year my friend Debbie thought about asking me, to work with her on a TV programme called Benidorm. She quickly retracted the offer with her saying; "Carly, you single, abroad, in the sun, in hotel with all the crew, is just going to be a complete nightmare!" I was very offended at first, but then I thought about it for a minute and knew she was completely right!

That said, she seemed to forget these factors very quickly this year, when she was desperate for someone to cover her supervising while she was on another job, as she asked me! Her reasoning was that I was doing most of the job prepping in London and only actually got 2 weeks in Spain, so I couldn't get up to much trouble in that time, could I? Hello! How long has she known me!

For my international followers, if you do not know what Benidorm is, it is a tourist destination for lots of British people in Spain, and they are usually the worst kind of Brits. Yes they are Brits a broad! Now let me put down in words the criteria for being a Brit aboard:
1. They are usually chav's (this is English slang for common people, that don't pronounce words right & have no class)!

2. They are mostly fat and overweight.

3. They usually have really bad sun burn. This is because they still haven't learnt that getting burnt doesn't actually give you a tan but skin cancer!

4. Owning to the above they are also thick or of little intelligence.

5. They usually have lots of bad tattoos or tramp stamps, as my sister likes to call them.

6. Their diet usually consists mainly of alcohol and fry ups, or anything they eat back in England, as foreign food is classed as something alien to them and maybe a little scary.

7. They spend 99% of the time drunk or hungover.

This is the criteria of Brits aboard, and it is actually this type of people that the show I'm working on is about. It's quite funny, as the Brits aboard love the show, even though it's taking the complete piss out of them. Everywhere the cast go, they get swamped with people wanting their photos and autographs. It's all very crazy.

After getting off the plane, checking into my hotel quickly it was straight to work. Our costume room and where we film is situated at another hotel down the road. Now I have a confession to make here. Me and my family had a family holiday years ago at the very hotel where Benidorm is filmed. I know, I can't believe a lady would admit to that. To be fair though, I have nothing but good memories of that holiday, but I was young and saw things with different eyes back then. A rosey tinted vision. I don't have those eyes anymore though. I now have the eyes of a 31 year old woman who has seen a lot and travelled the world. So I always knew that Benidorm was going to be a bit of a shock and it didn't disappoint in that aspect. As I walked to the entrance of the hotel of my childhood past, I was greeted by a fat chain smoking woman, covered in tatoos, with sunburn, sat in a mobility scooter. Now mobility scooters are all the rage in Benidorm, they even have tandem ones. This is not because there are loads of disabled people there, in fact there are probably none. No! It's because they are all too God dam lazy to walk, which I think was the case with this woman. Also with her was an equally over weight man, also smoking and covered in tattoo's. There was also a child playing with a ball beside them. The next thing the fat woman shouts at the child:
"Stacey stop playing with that f**cking ball and f**cking get back here"!
She then turns to the fat guy, who I presume to be her husband.
"Where are the rest of the f**cking kids"?
The fat guy replies, "I don't f**cking know! Probably in the f**cking pool where we left them you stupid bitch"!
The fat woman retorts, "Well you can go and f**cking find them, I'm off to get a drink. F**cking come on Stacey"! And with that she scooters off, dragging the child behind her; the man still sits there smoking and I'm just left standing there thinking I've arrived in my version of HELL!

During our 2 days of none stop work, unpacking costumes me and Delphine would sit and take our breaks on the balcony and watch the world go by. Delphine who is my designer is a amazing woman. She is intelligent, cultured, lived a life most full, has pink hair and is one of the nicest people ever. So you would think with all that I have said about her she would hate Benidorm. Not at all in fact she loves it! She has been filming Benidorm for 4 years and loves returning everytime. "Look " she said as we sat there on the balcony, "Where can you get people watching like this, anywhere else in the world. It's amazing"! I guess she is right, and after my initial shock of Benidorm, I decided to give it a chance. So it wasn't anywhere I would chose to go on holiday but there were many good things about this job, I thought:

1. I can walk to work in 5 minutes, something that I've never been able to do it the 10 years I have done this job.

2. I can go to work in a summer dress and flip flops.

3. I do the ironing on a balcony in the sun, instead of a freezing truck with no windows.

4. I can go for a swim in the outdoor pool after work and have a piña colada after a couple of lengths ( I know it kind of defeats the object of doing lengths)!

5. I can sit and have a drink after work, by the beach and watch the sun go down (There seems to be a lot of drinking involved in these pros if the job).

6. In the old town there is some amazing Spanish food.

7. The crew are lovely.

8. My hotel is nice.

9. Actually people a really friendly here, even when drunk!

10. I get to practice my bad Spanish.

As a lot of the crew and extras are Spanish, the little Spanish that I do know has come in useful. Though sometimes this becomes lost in translation and vice versa with the Spanish talking English. Take for example one of my conversations with one of the Spanish drivers. Rueben the driver, was having one of his flirty but nice chats with me again when he suddenly said,
"I love your breasts"!
I stood there speechless. It got worse as he then said:
"Each day they get lovelier and lovelier".
How rude I thought. Maybe this is how you talk to women in Spain but not me! I was just about to give him a piece of my mind, when I saw him touching my hem and realised he said dress in a heavy Spanish accent, not breasts. Oophs!

Another good thing is your days off. How many days do you get off and go to the beach. On my last day off me and the girls decided to spend the whole day on the beach. Instead of going to the main beach and being squashed like sardines in a tin, we decided to head to a little cove round the bay.

It was quiet, beautiful and away from the masses. It also appeared to be a nudist beach! Now I don't have a problem with the naked body, but It is a bit weird when your sat there reading and all you can see is a burnt bare bum or a penis flopping around as someone runs out the water. It is even stranger when a little old naked man who is old enough to be your grandad, is there, trying to help you put up your umbrella, while your trying very hard not to look at his wrinkly old penis, which is impossible as he just sits there talking to you with his legs spread wide apart. Not pleasant! Well if you can't beat them join them. So me and Nat decided to go topless which I'd forgotten how liberating it was. Don't worry I didn't go the full monty, imagine burning down there! All was going well until the camera boys decided to join us! You have never seen two girls but their tops on so fast. I believed we had got away with it and didn't have to go to work the next day with the whole camera department looking at us, thinking I've seen your breasts. That was until one of the camera guys told Make up he had a great zoom lens camera and got some great shots at the beach that day! Oh my God!

My time in Benidorm went quick. Too quick. In fact I had a great time there and I will go as far to say I will miss it. Benidorm may not be my heaven but you can always find the good in the bad.