Day 150

It doesn’t feel like a Sunday night tonight and I wish it was a Thursday. That would mean I wouldn’t have to wake up early tomorrow and I could relive the weekend all over again. It’s probably my own fault I feel this way. Ever since I was sick that one weekend I messed up my sleep schedule and I both go to bed an wake up way too late. Like last night I was sleepy but just didn’t feel like going to bed.

So I didn’t, because I’ve gotten into the spoiled habit of doing whatever I want here in Torrox. Thats what a 12 hour work week will do to you.

I didn’t until 5:30am I should say. So in fact I did sleep,..until 1pm.

I really didnt do much of anything this weekend. I was bummed out on Thursday. I showed up to school, and was informed that my bike- which I left locked up outside of school over night due to unfavorable weather- had the front tire stole from it. I wasn’t even angry. I was just really sad and disappointed. Who does that kind of stuff? Seriously. It was a cheap crummy bike outside of an elementary school and had a Mickey Mouse sticker on it.

Last year in the states I was riding my bike from work, and I had to pass all the bars downtown to get home. I rarely stopped for a drink, but on one occasion I did. I locked my bike up to a tree outside on the sidewalk and proceeded to have myself a nice evening with friends. I come out from the bar to find that some punk ass had smashed the little bell I had on my bike.

Come on, really? I think theres a special hell for people that do things like that. I’d like to imagine those same people in shrunk and itchy cowl neck wool sweaters on, forced to ride the bikes they vandalized. Up a mountain with a terrible incline, on uncomfortable and really small seats, in the midst of horrible weather. I’ve had to ride my bike in the snow/rain before and its made me cry from self-pity,…so I guess in those conditions. Also they would be forced to listen to disco music or the reject songs of the 90s one of the two.

Well I certainly entertained and elaborated the thought of all of this,…because I had to walk home that day.

I had been planning on riding over to Nerja but instead today I took a nice long walk. I walked for a good 3.5 hours I did a big circle of Torrox and the area between the town and the coast which is its own separate area. That area is known as Torrox Park. Its habitants mainly consist of English and Germans. Everything about the Park is different from the Pueblo and Costa. The architecture is the most obvious, its all new and modern. Its sort of how housing in Florida is like…all small, but rich and fancy, everything looks the same. There are lots of blonde haired people on the streets with shorts and sunglasses walking around with their pet dogs. 80s music blares from the windows of the bars and homes you pass. Its not to bad, it made for a good walk.

I eventually came to a wooden sign advertising a bar with an arrow that pointed down a shabby and untamed gravel road. Nothing about the road looked like it would lead anywhere special. Trash like empty juice boxes and toilet seats were sprawled around in the overgrown grass that was beginning to overtake the road. I didn’t make any quick decisions.I just kind of stood there looking at the road, and not seeing anything that it could lead to. I figured what the heck,..I’ll go look for this hidden bar, just to see what kind of establishment it could possibly be, and if it was worth anyone going down this lost road.

As a walked a bit further I would have thought it was a trick, or that the bar had moved and no one bothered to take down the sign but I started to hear faint music. As I kept walking the music turned from undistinguishable melodies to Madonna’s “Like a Virgin”. Yet, I kept going.

You walk down this seemingly useless road and suddenly this your blinded by this surprisingly huge and bright- lemon yellow colored building, a former barn that now blinds your eyes as the late afternoon sun shines down upon it. I approached the bar, and I saw an older woman outside soaking in the rays drinking a bubbly draft beer and I thought that looked good. So I got myself one and asked to join her.

She was English and soon a group her friends, all English as well showed up and sat down.  They let me still sit with them. They were nice I suppose, in the sense that they weren’t mean or rude. They all had pasty skin and bad teeth. The woman wearing the fake leopard fur coat had a mustache the same color as her coat.

I didn’t stay long, I didn’t really feel like I fit in, nor did I feel like trying. So I continued on with my walk, down to the coast where I sat on the beach a bit and listened to the waves crashing and played with some dogs that had run away from their owner, then headed back up the mountain home.

Writing all this makes me tired. It wasn’t a particularly interesting day, but I enjoyed it. The fresh air was good. I think I’ll sleep good, and soon tonight.

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