Eurogays, Living in a cave and the Costa Del Crime

So after 8 and a half months of backpacking, bunking, ducking and diving we eventually boarded our Air Iberia pigeon from Lima to Madrid and in 15 hours time would be back in Europe, only one hour away from Greenwich Mean Time. Time does indeed fly, but god knows how Air Iberia do, they have to be one of the worst airlines I have ever had the misfortune of flying with. Can you believe that Spains national carrier still has those TV's that everyone has to share and only shows one film on a 15 hour flight! And that's just the half of it. Mind you you can still smoke, no you can't really, but it wouldn't have surprised me if you could as I felt like I was being slung back ten years into a Spanish frenzy of Sunglass wearing, shoulder jumpered, pastel panted arrogancias and all they were lacking was the customary Marlboro Red drooping from their lips.

Spanish efficiency continued upon touching down in Madrid although we were lucky that it was only 2 hours before the baggage boys could be arsed to bring us our bags. The track next to us had already been there for 4 hours with still no sign. Siesta whatever, herherher Ingleesh Peegs!

I hadn't been to Madrid before and I tell you I was bowled over. I fell in love with the place immediately which may have had something to do with the weather but also to me Madrid sums up all that is good with Spain. The buildings are majestic, the people are beautiful and walk with grace, elegance and a sense of superiority hard to find anywhere else. The weather is deliciously warm, the bars and plazas are magnetically inviting and the whole buzz of the city is pulsating. We had arrived on the weekend of Eurogay, the Gay Pride annual march where she/he's, mincers and madams skip merrily down the Gran Via and then get well and truly trousered in a party to top all parties.

It really was a great welcome back to the warmth and reality of Europe and poverty was nowhere to be seen which was nice to see. It was a great buffer before heading back home. However we weren't stopping there, we needed more sun and so with car duly hired we headed south and first stop was Granada where a friend of a friend had very kindly offered to let us stay in his cave for three days. It may sound slightly disconcerting but beggars can't be choosers and when we got there we found that the cave had been converted into a home and we were staying directly opposite Alhambra in the beautiful suburbs of Granada. It was absolute bliss, the weather was in the high 30's and we managed to sneek into a hotel 2 days running and use their pool and loungers. The experienced travellers had no fear now and blagging had become pretty much part of day to day life. Never really been a problem anyway!

To finish our Spanish invasion we headed to Puerto Banus darling to join the costa del cockneys and the rest of the 80's Brit gangsters and see my mate simsy for a few days. He had sorted out a villa and 13 of us ploughed into this mock Espagnol version of Big Brother and had an absolute riot. We partied, lounged, danced and lounged some more but mostly we drank and as we had arrived bang on time to experience the fiesta we also made twats of ourselves. With most of the locals being English anyway it barely mattered but the fairground was a riot, the girls turned it into a drunken impromptu hen night and I won two teddy bears on a shooting gallery for the first time in my life! It was sad to leave everybody and head back to Madrid but we had a car to take back and a couple of days left before our return home. Spain was a perfect tonic before the sad gin that was awaiting in England. The next two days were quite solemn as the grim reality of both me and Emily returning back to England hit home but then again after 9 months away there's no grounds for complaint.