Betwixt Wedding And Road Trip 2022 Part One

Hi campers. Naturlich I’m starting this Road Trip across Spain and France by er Air. Gatwick looks rather wrecked to be honest, escalators and lifts largely kaput, and one and a half cafes (pre Club Lounge), and ya need a Very Long Neck to spot the first floor Giraffe Restaurant. Oh 21st Century problems. (What war? What Climate Change?).

Still dear reader, it’s very busy and my flight hasn’t been cancelled. Yet. Nobody has told me to wear a gorilla suit to avoid Monkey Pox, and have a “Non EU Covid Certification Replacement” to flash at people from my watch. So I’m equipped. Thought as a treat I’d debut my denture, trial my teeth and Gnaw on my Gnashers abroad, long enough for the odd wedding pic….

Well, the flight happened. Up, Bolly vino beer and sos and mash, thence here in Málaga where it’s hot hot hot. Basking, drinking in downtown uptown and midtown establishments and WEAR THAT MASK on public transport.

My “boutique” hotel has apparently just become “boutique” as it now sells figurines of surfers. The breakfast one morning consisted of a pink doughnut, a croissant that had seen better days (1927) and a whole pineapple. I stuck with the coffee and mango juice.

Met my wedding party friends at what appeared to be a Bring Your Own Boat gathering in a posh porty beach called Cabopino, where there are quite a few Brits serving quite a few Brits.

Fun and inevitable cocktails amidst the stories of gentle retirees.

In Affliction Corner, so far managing to cope with my panoply of pills, with minor troubles such as rapper Little Toe Bleed and influenced by that seminal Boutique Band “Squitti Toiletti”, today I have the squits so I’ll be dashing orf to the loo as soon as Chérie the bride has said I Do, in case I Need To Do, Too.
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