Tag Archive: Granada


To Whom It May Concern:


Facade of "O Obradoiro", cathedral o...

Facade of “O Obradoiro”, cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, Santiago de Compostela, Galicia. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was forced(literally) to leave Fuengirola yesterday and am now in Granada, still alive and kicking, surprisingly. I can not give any further info. If anybody in Fuengirola reads this, please inform my friends that I am alright. There are not a lot of acquaintances left here that I know. I therefore plan to travel further North to Gandia, perhaps via Murcia. Preliminary destination Barcelona and after that to Santiago de Compostela to see if my friend Freddy is still there.

If my blogging is a bit sketchy from now on, please excuse me for I am on the road and do not know when I shall be able to settle down again. Wish me luck, folks! A hug and a smackeroo from Ralphie!

Just let me tell you this: some days it feels really good to still be alive!

About these ads

Bionic Cats?


from beverlybrown.com

I can rightfully call myself a troglodyte, a cave-dweller, as I have lived in many a cave over quite a long period of time, up in Sacromonte(= the sacred mountain) near Granada. It was, all in all, a happy stay and if it hadn’t been for that maniac Leppe, who terrorised the whole valley, I might still be living there. I’d first heard of these caves from a dear friend of mine, Dominic, whom I met in Barcelona and then later on, as if instigated by Kismet, I met Nigel in Gandia, who after five minutes of knowing me, gave me the keys to his cave there. Talk about meeting good people on the road! Continue reading

Grunts from the Pub.


Cavemen - Google/imgres

When I think of all the years I wasted in school learning the fair English language, I could cry. I hear you asking, for why? Because it’s totally unnecessary, that’s why! Vocabulary is highly overrated, I tell ye! I just got back from the pub. I’ll tell you what I witnessed there and if at the end of this story, you still persist in your obstinacy, I shall eat my hat!

I came in and nodded at Bill. How do I know that the publican is called Bill? Because his name-tag says so! I held my hands half a foot apart and he gave me a pint, with a nod. Continue reading

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,652 other followers

%d bloggers like this: