Advice Part 46- Taxi Drivers

On my Spanish sojourn, I have frequently had a large distance to travel from the bus/train stop to my hotel. Consequently, I have had ample recourse to make use of providores of personal automotive services.

Otherwise known as "taxi drivers."

My advice to young players is that taxi drivers are an unusual species, and are best approached with considerable caution.

How do I know this? Read on....

On Friday, I wanted to catch a taxi from Granada train station to the city centre, a distance of about 3km. I flagged down a cab, mumbled my destination in my (VERY poor Spanish), and off we went.

I imagined that it would be a fast and stress-free journey.

Not so.

My driver was one of those gentlemen who LOVE to chat. He opened by commenting on the hot weather, to which I gave a non-committal reply. Then he moved on to asking me about where I had been with my suitcase.

At this stage, I told him that I couldn´t speak (much) Spanish, which I assumed would stop the barrage.

But no. If anything, it just made him talk MORE. All I had to do was stay awake, and nod occasionally, and he seemed delighted. I guess having a captive audience, especially one who couldn´t disagree with him, was ideal.

Consequently, on the ten minute trip, I learnt about

• the Granada bullfighting season; 
• the best place to buy ice cream in town; 
• which architectural styles the driver particularly liked;
• why drivers of big buses are crazy; and
• that Granada is the best city in Spain.

When I tried to contribute, and tell him that the city was indeed beautiful, he became quite annoyed, and insisted I be quiet because he wouldn´t be able to finish talking before we reached our destination.

At this stage, I realised that resistance was futile, and just shut up.

Unfortunately, this isn´t the first "unusual taxi driver" incident I´ve had. In fact, it pales into insignificance compaired to some of the trips I´ve taken in Sydney (but that´s another story entirely.....)

All I can say is, thank god it was only a 10 minute trip. And I guess I should be glad it wasn´t Robert De Niro driving....

Advice Part 45‐ Why you shouldn't trust your guidebook

If you are anything like me, when you go to a place that you´ve never been before, you may find yourself heavily relying on your mass produced tourist guidebook, which amusingly promises to reveal all the secret places “off the beaten track” which no one has ever discovered before.

No one, that is, apart from the other million or so people who have also bought the book.


Yes, Lonely Planet, I'm looking at you.

But my advice for your players is that you shouldn't bother trusting your guidebook, as most of the advice given is pretty unreliable anyway.


How do I know this? Read on.....


Last week, I was in Jerez, and I decided to go on a day trip to Cadiz. I took my guidebook along with me, and got it out on the train.

I soon realised that the couple sitting opposite me were quite interested in what I was doing, and the lady asked if she could have a look at the guide.


“Sure, no worries” I replied, and handed over the book.


The woman then opened up the page on Jerez, and had a look at the restaurant and cafe recommendations. 


And burst out laughing.


The following conversation ensued....

• Lady (reading from guidebook): “Visitors to Jerez should first visit Restaurant X on Y street”
• Man: “Ha ha ha! NO ONE would eat there.”
• Lady: “I know! But then it recommends Restaurant Z if you want a romantic night”
• Man: “Romantic? That's ridiculous. Do they mention Restaurant A?”
• Lady: “No.”
• Man: “Restaurant B?”
• Lady: “No.”
• Man: “This book is terrible” (turning to me). “I've lived in Jerez for years, and no local would ever go to those places. Only tourists. Who've read this book." 
• Me: “Hmmm. Thanks.”

To be honest, this didn't exactly strike me as a surprise. I've followed a few guidebook recommendations before, and found them totally unsatisfying. But it was good to have confirmation of what I had long suspected.


Next time I leave my hotel, the guidebook is NOT coming with me.

Advice Part 44- Male flamenco dancers....and their fashion

So, I am currently in Spain for a holiday. And as we all know, one of my secondary goals for the trip is to bring home a hot male flamenco dancer. That´s a JOKE, by the way! But, what the hell, here´s an opportunity to put in a picture of Israel Galván....

However, in the days I have been here, I have reached the unfortunate conclusion that many men who dance flamenco are somewhat lacking in sartorial splendour.


Hence, my advice to young players is that if you are

• tempted to go to Spain; 
• enrol in a flamenco dancing class, and  
• you are on the lookout for a hot male flamenco dancer

then prepare yourself for some rather interesting fashion....

How do I know this? Read on.....

On Sunday, I started my first flamenco dancing class. And when I saw the males in the room, I was seriously concerned that I had accidentally crashed a dress up party....

Leading the charge was the teacher.....He was wearing tracksuit pants, but over the top, he had put on a pair of voluminous purple pantaloons, of the kind you would wear to a pirate soiree. I assumed maybe these pants were integral to the teaching of flamenco, but no- that was just the way he rolled, so to speak.

But the teacher´s fashion seemed positively conservative compared to that of two of the male students....

Student Number One was continuing the "costume party theme", and had attired himself in a tight set of black overalls, a la Super Mario, but without the moustache.

But Student Number Two took the cake. He also had the pirate look going on, but he had taken it up a notch, and crossed it with that of a porn star. He had on a V-necked T-shirt, whose V reached down to his navel, meaning that everyone was forced to look at his chest for the entire class. On his bottom, he had on tight trousers, that he had tucked into knee high socks. But the coup de grâce was that said pants had a HUGE hole in the centre of the backside meaning that we all got to see his underpants.

Oh. Dear.

I´m beginning to think that my goal of marrying a male flamenco dancer may have been misjudged.

But I´d be happy to be proved wrong... And if Israel Galván is currently single, well, I wouldn´t say no!

Advice Part 43- How to behave on holidays

With my long-awaited trip to Spain almost upon me (I leave tomorrow night!), now seems an opportune time to pass on some handy advice on what sort of behaviour is (or isn't) appropriate when travelling to a foreign land.

My advice to young players is that if you are overseas, and are suddenly swept up in a wave of Australian patriotism, it is best to resist this urge, and instead head back to your hotel for a quiet night.

How do I know this? Read on.....

When I was 23, I went on a trip to South East Asia. Being a far from adventurous traveller (nothing much has changed here!), I decided to book a small group tour. And by a weird twist of fate, all the other members of the group were from Australia and New Zealand.....

Hmm.

All went well (or as well as it could, given that the humidity was about 110%, and there wasn't a day under 35 degrees) until the final evening of the tour, when Sam (one of the guys in the group) suggested we all go on a "wild Aussie/Kiwi night out" in Chiang Mai.

Oh dear.

This is what happened:

• We got attired in our  "Aussie tourist wear". This consisted of $3 "Same same but different" T-shirts bought from the markets, shorts and thongs.

• Sam flagged down two tuk tuks, and asked the drivers if they would engage in a race down the main street of Chiang Mai, bribing them with "danger money" if they agreed. Which they did. 

• Following a terrifying ride, we screeched to a halt outside a cheap pub, which had just closed for the night.
• In a show of Western cultural imperialism, we proceeded to gesture frantically through the window, so that the owner would re-open the establishment. Which they did.
• Instead of ordering beers or something equally easy, it was resolved that we all have Long Island Iced Teas, which take an ETERNITY to make. Especially when there's 12 people waiting.....

• In the final coup de grâce, one of the other members of the group requested the owner of the pub put on Khe Sanh (I shudder even writing this!) so that we could sing along with Barnesy and make TOTAL idiots of ourselves. 

All we needed for a REALLY yobbo-ish (yobbish???) night out was an Australian flag to wear as a cape, and a few XXXXs.

Let me assure you, I won't be taking any such items to Spain.

Advice Part 42- The IDEAL job for single men is....

In the course of my (seemingly unending) singledom, I have made more than a few trips to the liquor store, to purchase some alcoholic beverages with which to drown my proverbial sorrows.

But it was only yesterday that I reached the following monumental conclusion.....

My advice to young players is that if you are a single male, looking to find a partner, first find yourself a job in a liquor store.

How do I know this? Read on.....

Yesterday afternoon, I went to a very civilised garden party in Rozelle. This required a trip to the bottle shop in the morning in order to stock up on appropriate liquid beverages.

As we all know, Sunday morning is not exactly peak alcohol buying time, so when I entered the liquor store, I was the only customer there. I picked up a few bottles of cider, and headed to the counter to pay.

All was going as per usual.

When I produced my wallet, I made some banal conversation with the (not unattractive) guy behind the counter. And when I say banal, I MEAN banal- "Gee, it isn't too busy here today, is it?"

The guy then proceded to (completely and utterly unasked):

• demonstrate the store's new-fangled gas machine, which means it is possible to keep a bottle of red wine open for a month without it going off (!!!)

• describe why some people go red in the face after one glass of wine (apparently it's an allergic reaction to preservatives) (!!!)
• show me every other bottle of cider under the sun, and give me extensive notes on the differences between brands (!!!)
• explain why the "ready to drink" alcopops are stored where they are (so the sales assistant can monitor the underage drinkers coming in to buy them)

• ask me about the party I was going to that afternoon (!!!)

He talked to me for over 30 minutes, and the conversation only ended when some other customers (!!!!!) arrived.

These customers were also single ladies.

But this REALLY got me thinking.....

I know of AT LEAST two other single female friends who have been "interested" in men who work in the local bottle shop. And I wouldn't be opposed to making another visit back to my store to have a further chat with the attractive guy. Although I don't want to go back too soon, in case he thinks I'm an alcoholic who needs to "stock up" on drinks every day or two***.....

But I swear, if you are a single man, looking to meet ladies, you could do A LOT worse than working in a bottle shop....

***NOTE Any hints on what I should do here are WARMLY welcome! Should I go back? And if I do, how can I "casually" find out if he's single (without looking seedy)? Also, do men who work in liquor stores get staff discounts? Advice wanted!

Advice Part 41- Things to conceal from your guests

Aah, holidays! There are few things more pleasant than spending a couple of weeks taking it easy in a foreign land, enjoying new food, meeting new people, and seeing new sights....

And it's even better if you manage to find someone to rent your apartment while you are away. Bonus!

However, my advice for young players is that if you are having a near-stranger stay in your humble abode, it is prudent to make sure that you have a safe and secure place to hide your "more personal" items. Or else you run the risk of your guests doubting your sanity....

How do I know this? Read on.....

I am leaving for Spain at the end of the month, and am having a visiting academic (and her husband) stay in my place while I'm gone. So, on the weekend, I decided to do a bit of a clean up in preparation for my guests' arrival.

But as I went through my house, I realised that I have quite a lot of VERY embarrassing things hanging around that I don't want them to see, including:

• A T-shirt with a pink goblin smoking a "funny cigarette" on the front. I got this shirt in a (not so) lucky dip, and wear it when I'm cleaning the toilet.

• Two black wigs, one long and one short, which I bought for fancy dress parties.

• A special "nasal cleansing device" which my dad bought me when I was suffering from hayfever. Erm..

• And, last but not least, a collection of strawberry and chocolate ripple flavoured condoms, which I was given when a friend had an "adult piñata" at his 40th birthday party.

Dear god.

If my guests catch sight of my belongings, they will probably assume that my typical routine consists of me:

• inviting an "intimate friend" around;
• donning my goblin shirt;
• smoking copious amounts of "wacky baccy", followed by some "nostril cleansing";
• both of us getting dressed up in the wigs for some kinky role playing;
• and then putting the flavoured condoms to good use.

Bloody hell.

Consequently, I have decided to store these items in a locked trunk, safely out of my guests' reach. Still, at least they won't be able to accuse me of being boring.....

Advice Part 40- Fun things to do on Friday nights

I have recently finished a period of "temporary temperance", in which I have been avoiding imbibing any alcoholic substances AT ALL.

This has necessitated a few changes to my typical Friday night routine. Now, rather than heading to the pub, I am more likely to be found doing my grocery shopping.

Thrilling, I know.

My advice to young players is that this has NOT been a bad thing- rather, late night grocery shopping is often more fascinating that ANYTHING you'll see in a bar.

Case in point. Last Friday, at 9:45pm, I realised I had yet to do my shopping, and so I headed up the road to Franklins to buy some milk and eggs. I then joined the queue to pay.

All was fine and dandy.

But then a- how do I say it?-"somewhat inebriated" elderly gentleman entered the store. He lurched down the first aisle, and began a swerving journey towards the rear of the shop.

Five minutes later, I felt a shove in the back, as the elderly drunk pushed past me, and made a lunge for the exit. He had clearly decided that he couldn't be bothered lining up and paying, and had simply shoved a whole collection of chocolate bars down his T-shirt.

And he wasn't just stealing one or two. He must have had AT LEAST 20 in there.

Needless to say, this didn't go unnoticed, and the following conversation ensued.

• Cashier One (yelling to Cashier Two): Hey, Josh! Stop this guy! He's stealing stuff!

• Cashier Two (looking a bit frightened): Umm, sure. (Addressing the drunk) Excuse me, sir. Can I ask what you have up your shirt?

• Drunk (inaudible muttering, then....): Nothing!!!

• Cashier One (getting very excited): He's lying, Josh! He's lying!

• Cashier Two: Sir, I can see a chocolate bar poking out of your shirt. And why have you got your arms folded like that?

• Drunk: (expletives aplenty)

• Cashier Two (pleading): Come on, sir. Please. What have you got up your shirt?

• Drunk (triumphantly): Nothing! I'm having a baby! I'm pregnant!

• Cashier Two (shocked silence, then.....): I am so happy for you. And you have come to the right place-I'm a doctor, and I'm going to deliver your baby! Ooh, I can see it coming out now!

At this stage, he approached the drunk, who looked completely horrified. The light fingered gent promptly let go of his bundle, and made a run for the exit, as the chocolate bars cascaded out of his shirt.

I definitely know where I'll be going for Friday night entertainment in future.