What can I say ?
After my last blog I got lazy, and got posted off to Spain. On a plain, where it don't rain but hits 40 C most afternnons. Only thing of note is my old age -
50 years old now. So went and bought myself a leather flying jacket (useful for a hot July), then on-route to Spain via Dusseldorf, a Junkers watch.
Junkers, ya tell ze time.
Usual bollocks in spain. Train to Barcelona from Zaragoza last Friday (yesterday), had 3 hours spare so wandered around Barcelona, then taxi to airport. Where I noticed how crowded it seemed outside, and their were lots of tv vans lined up, 'hmm' I thought in my innocene, 'must be someone famous flying in'. Wrong, wrong, wrong. The fucking bastard ground crew went on strike. No flights.
Oh bottoms. So, lets get back to Barcelona, on a hot, crowded train, Sants station packed, so walked up into the hotel above the airport and got a room. Bliss. Went for a nice long walk again, then headed to buy a ticket, still packed. Went to bed, up at 6 and bought a ticket after queing for an hour. Off to Zaragosa, lift to factory and too much wine afer working until 22.00.