Day 10: I just walked all over your crotch rocks.
Blanes Travel Blog› entry 11 of 11 › view all entries
June 8th, 2007 – by: La_Mexicanita
We woke up late morning, but since the one cell phone we had was uncharged, I decided to call the front desk to ask them what time was. I called, and the woman picked. I spoke very simple Spanish:
"¿Qué hora es? What time is it?"
"¿Qué quieres? What do you want?"
"No te entiendo. I don't understand you."
"Joder. Hora. Fuck. Time."
And then I hung up. I know my accent is bad, but sheesh...
We later discovered that it was ten o'clock. Hungry, my roommates, one of the boys, and I set off through the beach town, searching for good, cheap food. Passing by many restaurants, it was not long until we found a random square where there were a bunch of tables. We sat down and ordered two pizzas to split.
I never knew the Mediterannean Sea was so cold. But as we set our things down and waided into the freezing cold water, all of us cried out in shock. It was summer, after all. Unfortunately, a boat (with about twice as many people as its capacity, from the looks of it) went sailing past, creating large waves. So while I had been up to my ankles in water, it was suddenly at my waist. Not. Fun.
Of course, we forgot our towels, so we laid on the warm sand, tanning (yes, I'm not as white as I used to be!). We tried as hard as we could not to notice the nudity around us, but we failed.
Beaches in Europe are a lot different than those in American. We have indecent exposure laws. But you can take off your top and laze around no matter what.
When we got back to the hotel, we were covered in sand from the beach, since we had been towelless. The sand was different from that on the beaches back home. Instead of the fine grain, it was like a bunch of tiny, little rocks.
"Boulders between your toes..."
Of course, a bunch had gotten into my bathing suit. So when I took it off, the little rocks went all over the floor. When I emerged from the bathroom, clothed, I nonchalantly said, "My crotch rocks are all over the bathroom floor."
Nothing very interesting happened again until after dinner. There was plenty of light out, so we were allowed to run amock. First, we spent what Euros we had left at a local souvenir stand, where everything was cheap.
I finally found a cheap, cafe that had international phone service, so I called almost everyone I knew. Of course, my friends have lives, so most of them didn't answer their phones. But I did manage to talk to a few of my biffles.
Back at the hotel, everyone else in the group decided to take a sunset walk on the beach. My roommates and I opted to stay behind "to pack." Really, we were causing mischeif.
First, it was the soccer coach. Our hallway was a cluster fuck of noise. There was a team of ten year-old soccer players in town for a tournament, but the coach...damn, was he hot. We stood in the hallway pretending to talk at first, but when he went down into the lobby, we pretended to get food from the vending machine. Unfortunately, he had gone back up while we had gone down.
Then, there was the "packing" we decided to do. We had discovered that by climbing over the balcony, we could get into the boys' room. We almost fell to our deaths, but it was all in good fun. We got into their room (since the balcony door was unlocked), and began to fold all their clothes. Except for the boxers. We used a large flower (for Julia, the greatest calculus teacher EVERRRRRRRRR) to move those out of the way and left them in a pile on the bed. We organized their souvenirs into cute little piles, giggling all the while. Then, as we were finishing up, we heard the boys outside the door.
"Where did you put the key...?"
As quickly as we could, we bolted from the room, slamming the door shut, and then hopping over the balcony onto our room, and running into the room, throwing our balcony door shut. Immediately, I grabbed a class from the bathroom and pressed it against the wall between the rooms.
"Who folded all our clothes?!"
It took everything in us not to giggle when the boys knocked on our door, asking if we had seen anyone in their room. I went into the bathroom because I couldn't keep a straight face. The boys came to the conclusion that someone else in our group had done it.
It became total chaos in the hallway. Ten year-olds were running around screaming as we skipped through the halls, clicking castanets together and singing songs. I felt bad for everyone else who was staying in the hotel, but then again, they clusterfucked the tourists and the elementary schoolers together.
We all hung out in the hallway for a while, several of us observing the soccer coach, before retreating into our own rooms. One girl wanted me to teacher her how to do make-up, but I lied and said that I hadn't brought any of my good make-up with me. I just didn't want to teach her. Is it really so difficult to put some powdery shit on your eyelid?
And so came to end our final day in Spain...next, the plane flight home. More eventful than you might think.
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