So yeah. Gatwick was opened at 4am. I woke up and tried to decide what to do. Meanwhile Mother who had been planning her attack then pounced on me and started telling me I was stupid for going, that I'd not get a cab to get me there and then started sobbing telling me that I was selfish for leaving her, what if I died as well?
So I decided to just risk going for the 9am call. Woke up at 6. She was still on the sofa fretting and I called a cab and went anyway.
Pretty uneventful, roads no where near as bad as expected and I got there just in time for last call - not the way I roll! So I ran across Gatwick in my socks to make the flight.
Flight ok. Got to Barca ok, managed to get on a train ok.
20 minutes into my train, I got pickpocketed, somehow. lost my wallet, all my Euros and my bank cards. I met up with a friend of Welshy's and he took me back to his while I tried to get things sorted.
BTW Natwest are not Britain's most helpful bank. They cancelled my cards no problem, then refused to transfer any of my money into his account.
for ttwo hours I wasbounced arond the telephone system, each of them telling me they were sorry but couldn't do anything as neither of us have internet banking.
WTF. What about old people who have never heard of the internet? Neither of us had money for food, accommadation, transport. We were stranded. I plan on writing a complaint letter.
Eventually we managed to get his Dad to give us 200 Euro. Which after paying for accom, left us with 100 Euro to live on for 3 days.
Clearly the most rational way to deal with any other problem is to drink. So between us, we got through a bottle of vodka and a bottle of absinthe in two nights.
Lived in a falt with a photo of a child lying in a pool of blood. I mean what? Not sure the camera's the first thing I'd think of if I was told my child had been shot/knocked down/whatever.
Creepy.
And Miss Haversham from Great Expectations lived there.

Gotta go, gotta get ready for work.

Oh. Cricket Wooo!