THE ‘BBQ’

For those of you who don’t know who Chris tettenborn is, he is a born-again party animal of the Granada east-side massive, which looking bad should have made me expect more than I did when he said ‘come over tonight, my housemates are having a BBQ’. Needless to say it wasn’t a BBQ in any way shape or form, it was however, an awesome night. He lives with 9 other eramus students, all from different countries, in a massive house in the centre of Granada which can only be described as an ERASMUS house. Its covered in cool graffiti, artwork (usually of the nude variety) it has the most amazing roof terrace kitted out with big ass speakers and sofas galore. We defo need somewhere like this in 4^th year!! The night started off quite tame, we got there at about midnight and after climbing 4 flights of stairs to get to the roof, arrived at the beautiful terrace! There was chilled Jamaican music, a massive pot of sangria with a huge ladle, drunken Europeans loving life….the night had definite potential!

It got to about 2am and I was freezing and went hunting for an infamous fuseball table finally found it in the basement and we carried on our night down there - just four brits and an awful lot of rum. God knows what time it was, when we had a rather interesting visitor. He strolls in looking rather cocky, (comment for green’s benefit- yes he was foreign!), and as you do, you ask him his name and where he is from …. ‘I M’LADY AM OMAR’ (imagine really strong almost israelly accent). ‘ Well…my mum is from the Hamptons and my dad is from queens…’, obviously complete bullshit, but my drunken friend still came out with ‘reallllllly?’. At this point he declares his love and whisks her away to attempt to climb up to the highest piece of furniture in the room. This fails and he accidently hits my friend in the vagina with his bottle of wine, which didn’t go down too well. They also managed to almost ruin an oil painting of the Virgin Mary in the process.

My friend JJ then decides she deserves a ‘PROPER’ proposal, and Omar accepts this as the only acceptable step forward in their relationship. So tries to get down on one knee, fails and encourages her to climb on the sofa instead so he doesn’t have to bend down. And this point, in the semi darkness, quick as a flash he reaches into the front of his trousers, and pulls something out, leaving my friend screaming hysterically and the rest of us wondering what the hell just happened!! Turns out he had been keeping a rather large green apple in his boxers (quote: ‘cos his pockets weren’t big enough’.). My friend soon admitted for a split second she thought it was a horrendously deformed penis he had whipped out! Sooner or later this interesting character ran out of tricks and left.

The next bit of excitement of the evening was the shouts down from atleast 4 flights of stairs that cake was ready!! We race up only to be completely ambushed by handfuls of cake!! Needless to say we ended up covered in white frosting!!! Two days later I was still finding sticky patches in my hair.    

Peace out homies! I think I’ve bored you enough by now!

X x X x    

CAMBORIO

Probably the best nightclub I’ve ever been to, don’t worry that doesn’t include our beloved jesters, partly because I’m not sure we can really call jesters a nightclub… debatable. Anyway, envisage if you will a club on the top of a mountain with a breath-taking view of Granada and the Alhambra all lit up!! You can see these awesome views from the massive outside area and from the dance floor inside which has massive windows all the way across. This particular night was my first time there…

I’d been warned - it’s an eramus hub, if you are gonna get pick-pocketed anywhere it will be there, so when I clocked a policeman at the edge of the dance floor I thought it would be a good idea to set up camp dancing near him. OFCOURSE HE WAS A STRIPPER. Ten minutes later he was in a TEENY TINY pair of boxers which left NOTHING to the imagination, to be later followed by an even tinier thong. I really should have realised going to an evening called ‘EROTICA’ could actually be more than I bargained for...but hey-ho.

Highlight of the evening: had to be the looks on the girls’ faces… particularly the girl being practically straddled while MR-STRIPPER-MAN waves his cock in her face… first it just peeks out, a bit like a game of peek-a-bo but slightly more x-rated, next thing it’s all out! And no word of a lie IT’S HALF A METRE LONG!!!!   The crowd were in awe, screaming shouting, going wild!!!! But all good things come to an end and suddenly it snapped back and hit the poor girl in the face. XTRA-LARGE ELASTIC PENIS, what more than a girl ask for?!! Had me in stitches. The poor girl, one minutes its HUGGGGGEEE and the next its fake… life is a disappointment, what can I say? Finally got home at 8.45 that morning.   ALL IN ALL A REALLY GOOD NIGHT.

(PHOTOS OF BOTH THE FEMALE AND MALE STRIPPER ARE ON FB FEEL FREE TO HAVE  A NOSE)

BECOMING A SPANISH CITIZEN

Because apparently being an ERASMUS EXCHANGE, A BRITISH CITIZEN AND AN EU CITIZEN isn’t enough in Spain. Biggest wild goose chase ever, we traipsed from one government building to another IN TORRENTIAL RAIN (practically the only rain only rain I’ve seen in 7 weeks- typical!) to essentially pay a tax that I didn’t want to pay. Beautiful.

 Eventually- we found the right place, queued for a number, waited our turn to go to the right desk, all the necessary beaurocratic bullshit, only to be told that I didn’t have proof I’m Erasmus. Eventually, I did lose it. My inner essex/ Italian mumma got the better of me. I’m sorry Mr CABRÓN apart from the fact I’m a EU CITIZEN and that I am enrolled at the Uni here, AND that I have both student cards, AND a letter from Southampton (which doesn’t use the word ‘Erasmus’ at all - cheers Tony Campbell)…. YOU ARE STILL NOT CONVINCED IM ERASMUS, YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKIGN KIDDING!! I JUST GOT UP THIS MORNING AND THOUGHT… HMM IM NOT ERASMUS BUT I FANCY GOING TO 4 GOVERNMENT BUILDINGS TO PAY A TAX THAT I DON’T ACTUALLY HAVE TO PAY! Jog on little Spanish man, and take your bloody sombrero with you!!! He had only told me to ‘come back with the appropriate paperwork’. So I calmly told him, my university obviously didn’t issue me the ‘appropriate paper work’, but to take it or leave it because I wasn’t coming back. Essentially – BITE ME!

Once I’d finished my not so elegantly conceived rant he scuttled off to talk to his supervisor and surprise surprise, five minutes later he processed my paperwork no problemo. Turns out being a Spanish citizen is a shitty little laminated card (that I could have made at home), which cost me 10.30 Euros. That’s 5 glasses of wine here with all the free tapas!! BLOODY COUNTRY. Only in Spain.

THE GREEN STUFF

As you all know I’m not exactly a pothead…. So when one evening (1am but thats still early days for the nocturnal Spanish!), when I came across one of my housemates smoking  the green stuff I wasn’t exactly really bothered either way and just decided to keep him company on the balcony. Standard small talk: me: ‘I didn’t realize you smoked?’

Ruben: ‘I don’t’, slightly perplexed. I decided at this point I was tired and bored of druggies in denial and turned to go back inside, at this point he decided I HAD TO try it! He was soo insistent! But I stayed resolute and calmly explained I was a fan of pot. He laughs and tells me it’s not marijuana, at this point I clarify: ‘I. DON’T. LIKE. DRUGS!’.

He gives up trying to get me to have some and takes me by the wrist into the kitchen, where he pulls out a pot of oregano and tells me if I ever wanna try it to just help myself. At this point I panic! I’d been stealing his ‘oregano’ to cook for the last three weeks! FML! No wonder they liked my lasagna so much!!!! I decided to come clean about the misunderstanding there and then, at which point he starts laughing hysterically and trying to convince me IT IS OREGANO!! I’m soo confused by this point, and starting to wonder whether I’m still high (on whatever it is) from dinner! I eventually I decide to take a drag, turns out – It was oregano, I hate the bloody Spanish, - I’m going to bed.   

Hey homies!!

Sorry it’s taken me so long to write this blog!! I’ve been kinda using not having internet/ having a boring life as an excuse for wayyyy too long! But after last night feel like I really should be sharing some of the stuff I’ve been up to this last SEVEN WEEKS!!! Undoubtedly some of the best weeks of my life!

I’m soo sorry I don’t have any interesting arrival anecdotes but that’s probably because Josh was there to make sure everything ran smoothly and I didn’t get abducted by gypsys or the like! In fact the moving process went pretty smoothly…. Come 3am morning of…. All packed…. Semi terrified/ cacking it/ needing alcohol… and then to make matters worse - realised I’d managed to forget to account for the 7kilos+ of my laptop which was still unpacked, OFCOURSE.FML.

My first impression of Granada was pretty positive, but tbh in was kinda in denial about the whole year abroad thing I will convinced it was a holiday until Josh left!! Thank god two of my lovely Spanish picked us up from the bus station, I’d sailed through the afternoon purely on luck! Getting from Malaga airport – into the town and then to GRANADA sheer luck, by that point I knew my luck was running out and I was pushing it!

I should have known right from the start I would be happy here: there is a fully-loaded-sex machine by the front door of my appartement block! – so straight away - I knew Granada and I would be friends. In case you don’t get the opportunity to visit me/ or my sexual treasure chest (the machine not any innuendo!!), I will explain some of its several beauties…..let me start with a vibrator the shape of a sweetcorn, handcuffs, ‘love drops’, and the list goes on….AND last but not least… I must introduce you to Storming Stellla, an inflatable sheep, who ‘likes it hard and takes it deep!!’ which brings me to ask: are we doing secret Santa this year? ;)

I should probably give you a quick run-down of my flat… no complaints, I really love it! I definitely got lucky! I’m living with all Spaniards, one girl and three guys. They are pretty cool! They didn’t properly all move in until after josh had gone which timed pretty perfectly, but I’ll never forget the first night we were all in the flat. We had decided to go for tapas. Immediately the racist jokes start flowing… Green u would have loved it… the banter was pretty top notch. Eventually I realised it was geared to wind up the other female housemate, who eventually pipes up to insist: ‘I’M NOT RACIST!! … I JUST DON’T LIKE GYPSIES OR ARABS!!’ Once the piss-take had subsided it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship! Turns out my flat is in the best area in town for tapas bars AND they are some awesome clubs just around the corner! FYI TAPAS HERE ARE FREE WHEN YOU BUY A DRINK WHICH ARE STRICTLY ABOUT 2 EUROS AT ANY BAR!!!! In other words life is pretty sweet right about now!

Only downside so far, which took me until the 3^rd week to work out… is that my house mates go home EVERY WEEKEND - gutted. I came here to speak SPANISH, not talk to myself! But I’m getting used to it, and it means there is plenty of room for you guys to come stay as the flat is usually empty from Thursday night to Sunday night! (We don’t ever have lectures on Fridays! Or really… any lectures at all considering we seem to constantly be on strike!!)

That brings me onto the joke that is Spanish university….where to start… hmmm maybe with my elderly history teacher who is always 15mins+ late and then pokes his head in the door only to say, ‘brb kids just need one more fag!!’ – LAD. Or maybe I should tell you all about my BELGIAN French teacher who insists on ‘boosting our vocabulary’…. And is determined to warn us of the traps of the French language … which along many gems include: if you conjugate <<se branler>> wrong , it actually means to wank in French slang. (Just in case you didn’t know that guys J).  She also gave us a detailed run through of ALL the drugs known to man, ‘just in case’. In case I didn’t have enough problems I decided to do Portuguese from scratch out here- big mistake – trust me- horrible language, and the teacher isn’t making it any easier. I missed the first few classes as I was testing out other modules… so our acquaintance was…. Encouraging… essentially ‘OI, where are you from?’ – me- ‘I’m Italian’, bastard teacher -‘ I don’t like Italians, NEXT!’. Charming. It obliviously wasn’t my dolmio day. L

Going out in Spain is very different. For a start we don’t START drinking until about 11ish and never head out to clubs until atleast 1am, but usually closer to 3! THE CLUBS STAY OPEN HERE TIL 7.30 AM! I need to have words with mr. Jesters when I get back to soton! We are missing out back home!