Random Traveller Hello and welcome to the long discourse on Rhiannon’s Adventures So Far, that I finally made myself sit down and write because of the impending DOOM that is called Manufacturer Default. My little baby is a lovely shiny white Macbook that I’ve decided to name Poodle. This is because its main function is to be pretty. However I will soon have to send it off to some unloving ruffians who will beat it and tell it not to keep randomly shutting down on me.

Alicante is a small city a few hours south of Valencia on the Costa Blanca. I went to school here for 3 weeks and had a ball. Traditionally everyone has classes for a few hours in the morning and heads to the beach for the afternoon. For me the beach was a bit ‘meh’. If you hop on a tram for about 15 minutes the ratio of cigarettes to sand improves dramatically, but there are still no waves. With my Irish skin I can’t tan so I got bored pretty quickly. I guess I’m a surf person rather than a beach person.

It was here that I first really got to enjoy the Spanish night out. To start we all grab a few bottles of wine from the supermarket for 1 or 2 Euros each and then either sit on someone’s roof or climb the old fortifications affectionately dubbed The Drinking Wall. We pass away the time admiring the city lights until it’s 11:00 or 12:00 at night. Next it’s off to a bar in search of pool or good music. We bar hop until about 3:00 by which time we figure the clubs must be going and head to one we’ve been told plays a good mix. However we’re a tad early so we find a dark corner and try to ignore the looks the staff are giving us, which say “Who are these daft foreigners who go to clubs at 3am? Now I have to look like I’m working.” By about 5:00 the dance floor was finally packed. I don’t really remember much after that, but I woke up in my apartment some time Saturday afternoon. My friends however were delighted to fill me in and for the next week kept pointing out the tag I’d supposedly clawed into their elevator door.

I met quite a few people there, although I did seem to spend most nights hanging with a German couple – Chris and Dorothea, affectionately known as Zee Germanz. Actually I’m not sure they knew that, but they do now.

The school was good. I think I really learned a lot there in only three weeks. I, at least, only turned up with hangovers, James seemed to be renown for practically passing out at his desk every day. I heard this from three separate teachers: “Tu eres la hermana de Alex? Ah! El es bueno chico, pero mal estudiante.” Or “You’re Alex’s sister? Ah! (indicating understanding for my obvious hangover) He is a good boy, but a bad student.”

Towards the end of my stay we visited some family friends, Bev and Mike, in their little villa about an hour away. We imposed on their hospitality for a week and they nursed us through a vicious cold. Believed to be Moroccan in origin, damn you Adam.