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4 Jul 2011

Return of the Blog 2: Espana

My sister, myself and Quasi doing 'The Robot'

You lucky flip-flops!  Getting 2 blogs in one day, I sure do spoil you sometimes.  Think maybe I should stop your pocket money for a month to balance things out, but then again you're still late on buying my birthday present!  Sheesh!  Rude.  Ok so second of my comeback blogs, this one is about my trip to Spain with the girlfriend to go and see my Dad, Grandmother and Sister whom doth reside there.  As usual I kept the dates, flight times and airports a secret from y'all because I know you'd all want an autograph and a sneaky photo with me.  I mean I do love you my loyal blog readers but I'm just simply better than you...wheres your blog? hmm?!

Airport or corner shop?
The date was 19th June (also known as my birthday).  The location, Bournemouth Airport.  Ah now Bournemouth Airport is a joy to behold it really is.  It's sat there in the middle of a field trying to be a big boy airport, but you have to feel sorry for it when you walk in and nobody is there except for a guy serving coffee...to nobody.  It has about 8 flights throughout the whole day but still thinks it needs 6 departure gates, bless, it wants to be a Heathrow so badly!  Alas this wasn't going to be any ordinary flight.  I've flown alone, with my girlfriend and sisters, with my little brat niece and nephews but this time I was flying with my treat of a Grandmother.  She really is something.  Strapped into her wheelchair we whisked her through security where they were fixated on scanning the steel frame with a METAL DETECTOR "yes....it's definately a wheelchair and not some sort of suitcase bomb"  thank you Batman!  We then sat and chilled out with a beer each and waited for one of Ryanair's death tubes to hurtle onto the runway...late too.

The Spanish can only get a suntan round their eyes
Now being with my Nan in a wheelchair has its benefits in some scenarios, not like wandering through the Calahari desert or riding the dodgems, but most certainly in an airport.  We got guaranteed seats next to each other at the front of the plane and a VIP entrance to it.  We got into the back of a van that lifted us into the plane after everyone else, they all clapped and cheered at our entrance, maybe because they were sick of waiting but most likely because they were amazed to see a living blog legend in their midst.  We went vertically upwards towards the sky and above the ground or 'flying' as the kids call it nowadays.  Bit annoyed that Nan demanded the window seat because I like looking at the sea below and imaging crashing into it and thinking about blowing bubbles in the water for days on end.  Landing in Malaga was smooth and non-fatal which was good.  My Dad picked us up and we headed off.

Turns out that grass is the curer of all illnesses!
We stopped at the bar where my sister works and was welcomed by the locals singing Happy Birthday to me.  Very nice way to start off the week.  My girfriend got spoilt rotten during that week, as if a night together in the hot tub with wine and a massive inflatable screen set up by my Dad so we could watch the apprentice wasn't enough she also got to sample San Juan.  San Juan is nuts, it really is.  I wasn't really paying much attention to what my Dad was saying about it but it has something to do with running into the sea to wash your feet then throwing wishes onto a fire that was buring that statue of Quasi (pictured above) because they dont like moustaches or something.  I'll look it up but I think I'm pretty close.  Then a couple of nights later me and Sarah went back to the bar where my sister works to have a meal together to celebrate our 1 year anniversary, paid for by my sister and her boyfriend.  We were given a specially laid out table and free champagne from the owner.  People can be nice after all.

Overall it was a delightful trip, except for the landing on the return journey.  Apprently, Ryanair don't inform their pilots that the planes need to stop before the end of the runways.  We slammed into the tarmac and he smashed on the brakes bloody hard, but not hard enough to stop him missing his turning off the end of the runway meaning he had to turn right around.  If anybody had clapped at the end of that flight then I would have gladly shoved them in the overhead locker...with an irate koala to scratch him.  See this previous blog for full details Click Here.

All for now BliffleBlurgs but heres something that will keep you cheery until next time.  It's just my sister hitting her ex boyfriend over the head with a baking tray XD

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