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My books. Spain. Observations on life.

Phew! It's Hot!
22 July 2015 @ 22:26

The temperature hit 39 today in Benalmadena. I've just sent my latest novel and all the bits to the publishers today, and have spent most of this afternoon and evening in the pool. I find I think of the best editing AFTER the damn things gone!

Granddaughter and her pal got away okay on Easyjet, and arrived at home in Norfolk around 2am. Long day but they sleep until early afternoon as a matter of course so nothing different there then.

My 4 x 4 has broken down, needs a new alternator. Garage here wants circa 880€ to supply and replace it, so have sent to the UK for one and, after paying mechanic, the bill will be circa 210€. Some Spanish businessmen think Brits fell out of the trees with pockets full of money....

We visited a beachside restaurant a few days ago. Flies, poor service, and a paella that was heated until almost dry means we won't return. I ordered a steak, and when placed in front of me it reminded me of the smell when I empty the Dyson for my lady. The waitress, who was heavily pregnant, took so long to bring us agua con gas that it would have been quicker to catch a flight to Switzerland and fill a flask from an Alpine spring. I didn't leave a tip. Happily this sort of experience is rare here. Restaurants here cater mainly for tourists, and the fare is usually 'okay', but not often much better than that. You pick your own places where the food suits your taste and pocket. The odd ones are good, and we tend to stick to those that we have been to before, and where we enjoyed what they served. I think English restaurants have the edge, mind you my father often said that to eat well in Britain you should have breakfast three times a day. The Spanish have yet to realise that dessert can be their biggest money-spinner. They hardly ever have home-made postre's, and rely heavily on ice-cream variants that they get delivered by the truckload. It's always an anti-climax. A bit like stripping off a transvestite.

I'm proud to be British. I'm a firm believer that the world consists of two groups, The British, and foreigners. One group consists of circa 60 million people who are brilliant and always right, and the other of around 4 billion people, who don't really matter. I remember an American woman, with beautiful auburn hair and fantastic eyes, once saying to me in New York, "I always fall for Englishmen, it's the accent. You can say stupid things and it still sounds clever." I took her to dinner, no wonder her figure was slim, she never stopped talking long enough to eat. I never did get a chance to say anything stupid, except in the morning as I left her apartment, and mumbled 'Goodbye." Her dress was on the bedside chair, along with her wig, and eye lashes.

It's a funny old world, someone went out and shot JFK, and allowed George W to live.

They say an actress is only as good as her parts, well I always believed that Sophia Loren's parts looked pretty good from where I was sitting in the cinema, in my youth. She went to Drama School and learnt two things, one, she couldn't act, and two, it didn't matter.

I used to like sex on television, but now the sets are so narrow it's difficult to balance.

Hasta Pronto.





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