Sounds fun - - AND official, doesn't it? "Year One Report!" Actually, I thought it would be interesting (but I could be wrong) to revisit some of my thoughts about being here that I shared from a year ago, and how some of those things may have changed or still hold true. But first, let me get into our New Years Eve party, held at our crib in its "primo location" that's close to Leidseplein and the Centrum. Never held one of these, so there was excitement and tension in the planning. We were also always being asked to host some sort of shin-dig, especially by Zsolt, a co-worker of Radhika's at GE. So before we went to The Canary Islands, we visited Europe's version of Sam's Club, a place called Makro. Borrowing our friends membership card while they were in San Diego, we visited the place, list in hand, on the Saturday before we left. Not the best time to go shopping, of course, the weekend before Christmas. But it was all we had. Now, the first obstacle was getting a cart. They have a simple way of insuring that carts don't end up all over the place when shoppers are done with them. To remove a cart from the convoy line of carts, you have to insert a 1 or 2 Euro coin into a slot. It releases a chain that connects your cart to the "convoy", and to get that coin back you have to return it to the "convoy" and as you slide the chain back onto your cart, the coin pops out for you to retrieve it. No dudes huffing and puffing in the parking lot on cart duty. No carts laying in ditches or on the side of the road here. You find them only in their little cart sheds waiting to be used. It's quite smart - - quite simple. Why the US retailers don't do this puzzles me. Now, the only carts I saw initially were the size of tanks! They have the largest carts I've ever seen. It took all I had for my scrawny ass to keep from running over innocent children with it. Turning corners? Forget it. I rolled over an entire generation of "Dutchies" and took out half an aisle!! Then I see people pushing normal-sized carts! Where did those come from? Outside! So I tell R I'm not popping a hernia with this thing and I'll return it outside and get a smaller one. I got my 2 Euro coin back and went to the other side of the lot for the human-sized carts. Oops! They require a 1 Euro coin, and of course I don't have one. Back into the store for change. I finally get the cart I want (this entire process took at least 10 minutes as I have left out portions of the story) and we commence our shopping. Beer, champagne, snacks, sweets - - we're loaded up and ready for check out. Along with the meatballs from Ikea, we're pretty much set for the party when we come back.
A day of decorating and final preparations on the 30th and 31st, and we're good to go. Ultimately, we have about 25 guests in our place eating, drinking, talking, and playing a round or 2 of "Never Have I Ever". Such an international gathering!! Guests of so many descents - - Spanish, Italian, Hungarian, American, French, Romanian, Dutch, Australian, Russian, Indian, not including dual passport holders for Ireland, Poland... WOW, I hadn't thought it was SO VARIED until I compiled this list! We went from 9 until a little after 3, and the wrap up was indirectly spurred by the hosts request that 2 "partiers" should depart as they either showed up "hammered" or reached "hammerdom" the last hour or so of the party, and the likelihood of them crashing through a glass table or taking a header down the stairs was becoming more and more a probability! And when you cut off their drink supply, well, it can just get ugly. But before this, many stood out on the terrace in the cold watching fireworks from several directions. As we learned from last years experience, there seems to be no municipally organized firework shows, just people setting them off from the streets, rooftops, basically anywhere. That's why we saw a building ablaze last year and read reports of deaths and dismemberment's in print media. Also the next morning, the place looks like "shock and awe" went down the night before. The air still has sulfur and powder in it, and the ground is strewn with papers from spent ground and airborne fireworks. It's a real mess that takes days to clean up! Even with the 2 that were unable to show self restraint or recognize their own limits, the party went well, everyone had fun, food was good, there was plenty of champagne, and people made new friends and acquaintances. A good night overall. I'll get some pictures up of the evening soon.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Canary Island Remedy part 3
I got up at 7am with a slight headache and burning eyeballs (you remember/know that feeling!) and just laid there. About 8am my headache was gone and my eyeball fire was extinguished. So I got dressed and woke Radhika, as she had indicated she wanted to go with me. Yeah, that was a bundle of energy getting out of that bed! She did well, however, and we drove off to Telde which is near the airport and from there took a road that led to the middle of the island. We visited several places along the way, driving high into the mountains and into pine forests that reminded me of Florida. Small villages and scenery was enjoyed on yet another bright, sunny, blue-skied day!! Jamie had another tee time, this one for 2pm so we had to make sure we were back for him to take the car. Also, Elena, Radhika, and I were booked for massages at the place R had her aloe massage earlier in the week. I wanted a seaweed massage which is supposed to be good for the skin, but that "department" was closed on Sunday's, so I opted for a honey massage. Radhika and Elena went for the chocolate massage. My ideas of chocolate don't involve just washing it off the body when the massage was done. Seems like an awful waste to me. Even the honey wasn't my first choice, but after the seaweed wasn't available, they had one where they place hot stones on you (yeah - doesn't sound appealing) and one where you smell all of these oils during the massage. But I get ahead of myself. We visited these little places, and one destination that I plugged into the TomTom had us on a dirt road on the side of a mountain that allowed for very slow progress. R was nervous, and it didn't seem like the road was going to terminate at a breath-taking vista, as we were within 500 meters of the end and it didn't seem like there was going to be much more to see. So, I turned the car around and headed back down. We stopped in a small store, R had a cafe con leche and I had an ice cream bar. We figured at that point we should head back to give Jamie enough time to get to the golf course. Good thing too, because the traffic in Las Palmas was really bad. I pulled the car to the front of the hotel. Jamie and Elena were still on the beach. He grabbed his clubs and went off while we returned to the beach for an hour or so before our massage appointments at 4pm.
We spent an hour or so in the hydra-pool (or whatever it's called), sitting at various stations while water jets work their desired effects on your body underwater, or the several that poured gallons of water down onto you from a specifically designed spout from above. Then there's the cold water dip where neither of the girls made it into, the steam room, sauna room, and finally the room where you rub ice all over the surface of your now hot skin! Isn't this shit outlawed by the Geneva Convention, like waterboarding? Anyway, we sat in our robes with our towels, waiting for our masseuses. This short little muscular dude and nice looking, long curly-hired young woman walked by us several times. You don't have to guess too long who I was hoping for! If the dude came up to me I would've been really unhappy. But to my delight, the woman came up and asked who was getting what. When it was mentioned that I was getting the honey massage, she asked to to follow her. YES!!! Crisis averted!! We went into this room with a metal table like you have in your doctors office, even with the brown paper on it. Now I'm not a "massage expert", so I didn't know whether I'm supposed to keep my compression shorts on or off for a thing like a honey massage. Not wanting to end up looking like a fool or pervert, I just hopped up on the table, figuring she would tell me what I should do. She said nothing, so the rubbing commenced. First, she used this oil/rock mixture on me. Not the most pleasant experience one can have at a spa. Again, seemed like it belonged at Guantanamo or Abu Graib rather than a spa, but that's just my opinion. I was later told that it was salt, but it sure felt like rocks and pebbles to me! Glad my shorts were on at this point, because - - well - - I'll assume you know why. If I didn't like the course sand paper grit on my legs, back, stomach, chest, or arms, I would'nt appreciate it in any other more "sensitive" areas either! I was on my stomach first, and she rolled down my shorts enough where I could easily be confused with a plumber, if you get my drift (or is it draft?). Then she had me flip over, using what apparently is the universal signal to do so by whistling low to high, and she rolled down my shorts on the front side too! I'm thinking by now that this is usually down sans clothing, which is why they gave me a robe (duh? perhaps. Anyone feel free to set me straight on this) So after enduring what I knew to be an exfoliating procedure (hey! I know a little something about skin care!), I was sent off to another room to shower off the oil/rock mixture stuck to my body, walking bow-legged to keep the abrasion down to a minimum. I wanted to keep some of the flesh on the inside part of my thighs. After I did that, I waited. Beatrice came and got me after a while. Guess I was supposed to find my way back to the torture chamber, er, I mean massage room. I know what you're thinking too - - Beatrice!!!!? A girl can have that name and be nice looking. It is possible. So anyway, we're back in the room, it's darker, there are candles (electric ones - you know, the bulbs that "flicker" like a flame), plastic on the table, and Beatrice takes off her official-looking spa attire to reveal a spandex figure-hugging outfit underneath. HELLO!!! To quote my good friend, Chris Washington, DAMN! So I lay on my stomach, being careful not to slip off and end up on the floor as I am still very oily. This warm ooze hits my calves and feet. Finally something that feels good! She works her way up, and I finally catch the scent of honey, which is very nice. She whistles, I turn over, and it's a very relaxing and enjoyable experience. She finishes the massage, then covers me up completely in the plastic film and drapes warm towels over me. It's like I'm a twinkie in the wrapper or something sticky, like a bear claw. That was weird! She left the room, and I was like that for quite some time. I think I fell asleep. All I heard was the ticking of the clock above and behind me, and I think it lulled me to sleep. She came in, removed the towels, opened the wrapper, and then swung this arm over the table that had several nozzle heads on it that could be adjusted to spray in different directions. A forceful stream of warm water came out as she washed my front side off first. But, every so often I would hear a "beep" and the water temp would change to cool, and then another "beep" and it would change to cold, and then finally back to warm. This was a little shocking to the body. She whistled, I flipped, and soon I was rinsed off and out in the waiting area where Elena was already waiting. Radhika walked by with the short, muscular dude, and she was covered in chocolate, on her way to the wash room to have it removed. We took a picture of it before he rinsed her off. When done, we compare notes and I find out they had their behinds massaged! I felt cheated!! Radhika says it's because you're supposed to wear loose shorts so they can move them to the side or work underneath them. How was I supposed to know?! All-in-all, it was a good experience - over 2 hours of treatment for only 60 Euros. You can't get that in the US or Amsterdam from what I know. Elena indicated the chocolate treatment was a one-time deal for her, as she didn't like it as much as Radhika. We walked back to the hotel, and later that evening Radhika and I went back to The Laughing Pig, where the 4 of us ate the 2nd night of our stay, and Elena and Jamie ate at a nice Italian restaurant. We walked back to the hotel and just relaxed, knowing we were leaving the next day. Jamie and Elena tried to get some last minute sun Monday morning before checking out, and I took a bus to "Old Town" which is a section of Las Palmas that is exactly what the name implies, making some last minute pictures. Radhika seemed to get the most sun, with Jamie and I at about the same level of tanning. Elena, with her Russian ancestry and penchant for wearing a fleece jacket that covered her neck and arms on the beach got the least. Our flight ended up leaving around 3pm and we were back in our apartment by 11pm that night. Yet another fantastic place visited, another trip too short, another place we would like to revisit some day. They just keep adding up!!!
We spent an hour or so in the hydra-pool (or whatever it's called), sitting at various stations while water jets work their desired effects on your body underwater, or the several that poured gallons of water down onto you from a specifically designed spout from above. Then there's the cold water dip where neither of the girls made it into, the steam room, sauna room, and finally the room where you rub ice all over the surface of your now hot skin! Isn't this shit outlawed by the Geneva Convention, like waterboarding? Anyway, we sat in our robes with our towels, waiting for our masseuses. This short little muscular dude and nice looking, long curly-hired young woman walked by us several times. You don't have to guess too long who I was hoping for! If the dude came up to me I would've been really unhappy. But to my delight, the woman came up and asked who was getting what. When it was mentioned that I was getting the honey massage, she asked to to follow her. YES!!! Crisis averted!! We went into this room with a metal table like you have in your doctors office, even with the brown paper on it. Now I'm not a "massage expert", so I didn't know whether I'm supposed to keep my compression shorts on or off for a thing like a honey massage. Not wanting to end up looking like a fool or pervert, I just hopped up on the table, figuring she would tell me what I should do. She said nothing, so the rubbing commenced. First, she used this oil/rock mixture on me. Not the most pleasant experience one can have at a spa. Again, seemed like it belonged at Guantanamo or Abu Graib rather than a spa, but that's just my opinion. I was later told that it was salt, but it sure felt like rocks and pebbles to me! Glad my shorts were on at this point, because - - well - - I'll assume you know why. If I didn't like the course sand paper grit on my legs, back, stomach, chest, or arms, I would'nt appreciate it in any other more "sensitive" areas either! I was on my stomach first, and she rolled down my shorts enough where I could easily be confused with a plumber, if you get my drift (or is it draft?). Then she had me flip over, using what apparently is the universal signal to do so by whistling low to high, and she rolled down my shorts on the front side too! I'm thinking by now that this is usually down sans clothing, which is why they gave me a robe (duh? perhaps. Anyone feel free to set me straight on this) So after enduring what I knew to be an exfoliating procedure (hey! I know a little something about skin care!), I was sent off to another room to shower off the oil/rock mixture stuck to my body, walking bow-legged to keep the abrasion down to a minimum. I wanted to keep some of the flesh on the inside part of my thighs. After I did that, I waited. Beatrice came and got me after a while. Guess I was supposed to find my way back to the torture chamber, er, I mean massage room. I know what you're thinking too - - Beatrice!!!!? A girl can have that name and be nice looking. It is possible. So anyway, we're back in the room, it's darker, there are candles (electric ones - you know, the bulbs that "flicker" like a flame), plastic on the table, and Beatrice takes off her official-looking spa attire to reveal a spandex figure-hugging outfit underneath. HELLO!!! To quote my good friend, Chris Washington, DAMN! So I lay on my stomach, being careful not to slip off and end up on the floor as I am still very oily. This warm ooze hits my calves and feet. Finally something that feels good! She works her way up, and I finally catch the scent of honey, which is very nice. She whistles, I turn over, and it's a very relaxing and enjoyable experience. She finishes the massage, then covers me up completely in the plastic film and drapes warm towels over me. It's like I'm a twinkie in the wrapper or something sticky, like a bear claw. That was weird! She left the room, and I was like that for quite some time. I think I fell asleep. All I heard was the ticking of the clock above and behind me, and I think it lulled me to sleep. She came in, removed the towels, opened the wrapper, and then swung this arm over the table that had several nozzle heads on it that could be adjusted to spray in different directions. A forceful stream of warm water came out as she washed my front side off first. But, every so often I would hear a "beep" and the water temp would change to cool, and then another "beep" and it would change to cold, and then finally back to warm. This was a little shocking to the body. She whistled, I flipped, and soon I was rinsed off and out in the waiting area where Elena was already waiting. Radhika walked by with the short, muscular dude, and she was covered in chocolate, on her way to the wash room to have it removed. We took a picture of it before he rinsed her off. When done, we compare notes and I find out they had their behinds massaged! I felt cheated!! Radhika says it's because you're supposed to wear loose shorts so they can move them to the side or work underneath them. How was I supposed to know?! All-in-all, it was a good experience - over 2 hours of treatment for only 60 Euros. You can't get that in the US or Amsterdam from what I know. Elena indicated the chocolate treatment was a one-time deal for her, as she didn't like it as much as Radhika. We walked back to the hotel, and later that evening Radhika and I went back to The Laughing Pig, where the 4 of us ate the 2nd night of our stay, and Elena and Jamie ate at a nice Italian restaurant. We walked back to the hotel and just relaxed, knowing we were leaving the next day. Jamie and Elena tried to get some last minute sun Monday morning before checking out, and I took a bus to "Old Town" which is a section of Las Palmas that is exactly what the name implies, making some last minute pictures. Radhika seemed to get the most sun, with Jamie and I at about the same level of tanning. Elena, with her Russian ancestry and penchant for wearing a fleece jacket that covered her neck and arms on the beach got the least. Our flight ended up leaving around 3pm and we were back in our apartment by 11pm that night. Yet another fantastic place visited, another trip too short, another place we would like to revisit some day. They just keep adding up!!!
Canary Island Remedy part 2
Another early morning start for me as I drove down to the southern part of the island to check out and photograph the sand dunes and Playa Del Ingles. Again there was "fun" between the reality of the road in front of me and what the TomTom was directing me to do. Also, there is a serious lack of consistant signage to guide one along without a navigation device. All of this coupled with my obvious unfamiliarity with the area was cause for more head scratching, audible WTF's?, u-turns, dead ends, "I just passed that" moments, and the like. Luckily I used my pea-sized brain when I thought to mark on the TomTom when I came to a place that I figured I would want to find again (like the damned parking lot near our hotel which was always an adventure when returning to it). This area is much more "resortier" than where we were staying in the north. Las Palmas is a combination of business, residents, and tourism, where this southern area looks to be 99% tourism, with quite the older set from Europe being the main visitors. Plenty of topless areas and a few "all naturale" ones. Seems like the older crowd like to let the sun hit as much of their epidermis as possible. Nothing really out of the ordinary with the exception of one older "boyfriend" greasing up the privates of his younger companion with much gusto! I'm sure it was all about protection from skin cancer. Not to my surprise the men "from fit to fat" loved their "speedos" as did the women and their 2 piece bikini's. It is really quite the norm here, whereas on Canteras Beach in Las Playas there were others than myself wearing swim shorts. But most of the above 60 set had on what American's call "speedos". I spent about four hours down there walking around and making pictures before heading back to Las Palmas between 12 and 1pm. All of us spent time on the beach in the afternoon, and we made plans to return to Playa Del Ingles that evening for dinner and partake in it's nightime festivities. We spent our time on the beach, and a windy day it was indeed with sand finding its way into all sorts of places on/in the body. Jamie and Elena took a drive out to the big Media Markt near the airport while R and I hung back at the beach and hotel. We probably left for Playa Del Ingles around 7pm after Jamie and Elena returned.
Once we were all in the car and close to our destination, that's when the fun started again. Jamie seemed to think we should park in one area near where their "ant" apartment was, but Elena felt it was in a different place. Elena sounded the more confident one, so we went with her recommendation. Oops! Well, you can't win them all. Jamie gloated for some time (yeah, about the rest of the night), as we had to walk a little more then needed from where Elena had us park. We made it to the promenade area where all of the shops, restaurants, and bars are. We walked from about the middle of it to one end checking out the menus and enjoying the sidewalk solicitors who stand out there trying to coax you into their establishments. Jamie took the business card of one guy and told him we'll come back, with the guy responding if Jamie didn't he would come looking for Jamie!! That was pretty damned funny, so when we hadn't made a choice and closed back in on this guys restaurant, we parked ourselves at a nice table outside near the beach and had a great meal. The service was a little "dutch" (for those of you who have forgotten, dutch service is like "military intelligence"). The guy put on one hell of a show as he joked, cajoled, and charmed people into eating at the restaurant! After, we walked to a bar that had a guy playing electric guitar and a woman singer who were doing a pretty good job of entertaining. Better than that they had a huge gas heater right next to our table and we had them fire that up. Soon the jackets and sweaters were coming off of Elena and Radhika as we drank, talked, listened to the music, and played some lively "Connect Four". I started off with a 4 game win streak and Jamie couldn't buy a victory. Then fortunes changed and I was on the losing end. When we left we were all pretty much even in the win column, so there were no bragging rights in the Connect Four championships that evening. We moved to another bar where it was one dude, his guitar, and music machine backup. Not as good as the first bar, but okay. We then moved on to a small place that was playing some techno dance, so we just went out to the dance floor? area? spot? and stayed out there for what I would say was 30 minutes getting our exercise for the evening. There was one guy out there dancing around with a sock on his hand - - what lonliness will do to some people! I want to say 3am we got back to the hotel, and tomorrow was our last full day. Bummer! So we went to sleep, with me having the usual "get up early to shoot" plan, which would mean 4 hours sleep. Would I be able to do it? Stay tuned for part 3!
Once we were all in the car and close to our destination, that's when the fun started again. Jamie seemed to think we should park in one area near where their "ant" apartment was, but Elena felt it was in a different place. Elena sounded the more confident one, so we went with her recommendation. Oops! Well, you can't win them all. Jamie gloated for some time (yeah, about the rest of the night), as we had to walk a little more then needed from where Elena had us park. We made it to the promenade area where all of the shops, restaurants, and bars are. We walked from about the middle of it to one end checking out the menus and enjoying the sidewalk solicitors who stand out there trying to coax you into their establishments. Jamie took the business card of one guy and told him we'll come back, with the guy responding if Jamie didn't he would come looking for Jamie!! That was pretty damned funny, so when we hadn't made a choice and closed back in on this guys restaurant, we parked ourselves at a nice table outside near the beach and had a great meal. The service was a little "dutch" (for those of you who have forgotten, dutch service is like "military intelligence"). The guy put on one hell of a show as he joked, cajoled, and charmed people into eating at the restaurant! After, we walked to a bar that had a guy playing electric guitar and a woman singer who were doing a pretty good job of entertaining. Better than that they had a huge gas heater right next to our table and we had them fire that up. Soon the jackets and sweaters were coming off of Elena and Radhika as we drank, talked, listened to the music, and played some lively "Connect Four". I started off with a 4 game win streak and Jamie couldn't buy a victory. Then fortunes changed and I was on the losing end. When we left we were all pretty much even in the win column, so there were no bragging rights in the Connect Four championships that evening. We moved to another bar where it was one dude, his guitar, and music machine backup. Not as good as the first bar, but okay. We then moved on to a small place that was playing some techno dance, so we just went out to the dance floor? area? spot? and stayed out there for what I would say was 30 minutes getting our exercise for the evening. There was one guy out there dancing around with a sock on his hand - - what lonliness will do to some people! I want to say 3am we got back to the hotel, and tomorrow was our last full day. Bummer! So we went to sleep, with me having the usual "get up early to shoot" plan, which would mean 4 hours sleep. Would I be able to do it? Stay tuned for part 3!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Canary Island Remedy
What's the next best thing to returning to Orlando for a break from this overcast, gray, dull, wet, cold, windy, icy, shit, Amsterdam winter? Turns out it's a 6 hour flight, with a connection in Madrid, to The Canary Islands off the northwest coast of Africa (for those who don't know that's a country below Europe, isn't that correct Miss "Maverick" Palin?!) Just what the doctor ordered between the 24th and 29th of December!
Just days before we left, we were at a dinner hosted by DC, with Jamie and Elena (GE grunts) amongst those in attendance. Well, they heard of our warm-weather getaway and started considering it the next day, pulling the trigger within hours and booking flights, car rental, and hotel. They called us, asking if it was okay if they plagiarized our vacation. Unfortunately they didn't get a hold of us, because we would said "Yes, we do mind." But, we figured the island was big enough for all 4 of us, and as luck would have it they were staying on the southern end (of course that's where Jamie would want to be)and we were in the extreme north. So, we see each other at the airport after DC was kind enough to tote Radhika and I there at 6am, and we ride the same flight to Madrid and into Gran Canaria. Note: Iberia is not a top notch airline to fly, but it's the best game in town it seems to get to this destination. Mid-70's NEVER felt so good, and when that sun hit the face it was damn near orgasmic! Jamie and Elena were kind enough to make the 20 minute drive and drop us at our hotel, which also gave them the chance to see our area. They headed out to their place, and R and I were thinking "Man! We dodged a bullet." We check in - - nice room, clean, comfortable. So we go walking around, grabbing a bite at a small place along the beach, then check out some shops. Quite a few tourists in the area. A lot of pasty Germans. Radhika and I were infants compared to most of the visitors, but hey, we'll be fine. There were some younger people around.
The next morning, we're gathering our stuff to head to the beach when the cellphone rings. Seems Jamie had ants in his bed at the apartment in Playa Del Ingles and they want to come up to where we are!!!!!!!!!!!! The Griswold's want to come to Las Palmas!!!!!!!!!! Being the generous and helpful fellow that I am, I checked and told him our hotel had rooms (DAMN!) and that they would like the rooms (ants are an extra charge). So, we're on the beach and this shadow hovers over us - - the Griswold's have relocated!!! So we all get some sun, decide to share the rental car instead of us getting one of our own for a couple of days, and grab a dinner that night. The next morning, Jamie has a tee time at a golf course near the airport. I went out early in the morning with the car, driving to 2 small town southwest of Las Palmas. I came back just in time to pick him up and we drove to the golf course, making every wrong turn you could imagine, missing exits, having the TomTom suggest we turn right into boulders and sides of buildings. It would seem that there has been major road development on the island, and many roads, roundabouts, and highways are different in the navigator then they are in reality. There was so much cursing in that car because tee time was clicking closer and closer, and there was one, edgy Australian driving that car!!! Who said Aussies are laid back? Let missing a tee time become a possibility and you'll see some daredevil maneuvers on the road. We stopped to ask this elderly Spanish woman for help. Bless her, she didn't know we were pinched for time, because she was dishing a dissertation in Spanish involving we believe every detail of the route between where we were and where we wanted to be!! I thought Jamie was gonna yell at her to shut up already!! He kept inching the car along, and I kept saying "Gracias", but that didn't stop Senora Jabber-Jaw. I think a nuke could have gone off, the land laid waste, with skeletons flying all over the place, and she still would've been flapping those lips to our singed remains!!! We finally broke away from the sweet lady (she was! and all dressed up with her fine self too) and after trial and error (mostly error) we made it to the club with under 10 minutes to spare! We should have been there close to an hour ahead of tee time, but we burned 50 minutes easily chasing down every street on the island except the right one! I went shooting in some local towns and villages while he chased the little white ball in the grass for 4 hours or so, and the girls did their thing back in Las Palmas. Radhika chilled out in the sun, Elena shopped, I made photographs, and Jamie exorcised the little old senoras voice from his ears with the whack and crack of golf balls being propelled from his club into sand and water, no doubt. I picked him up after he notified me on my cellphone, had a couple of beers at the clubhouse with another GE employee (Jim - Mr. Facilities), and then headed back to Las Palmas for dinner and relaxation. Seems Radhika had received a 2 hour water spa and aloe massage, being very mellow. I'll finish up part 2 later, and get to our New Years Eve party at the Amsterdam crib. In the meantime, enjoy the C.I. images by clicking on the link to the right and choosing the Canary Island album when you get to the Photoshop site. Enjoy!!
Just days before we left, we were at a dinner hosted by DC, with Jamie and Elena (GE grunts) amongst those in attendance. Well, they heard of our warm-weather getaway and started considering it the next day, pulling the trigger within hours and booking flights, car rental, and hotel. They called us, asking if it was okay if they plagiarized our vacation. Unfortunately they didn't get a hold of us, because we would said "Yes, we do mind." But, we figured the island was big enough for all 4 of us, and as luck would have it they were staying on the southern end (of course that's where Jamie would want to be)and we were in the extreme north. So, we see each other at the airport after DC was kind enough to tote Radhika and I there at 6am, and we ride the same flight to Madrid and into Gran Canaria. Note: Iberia is not a top notch airline to fly, but it's the best game in town it seems to get to this destination. Mid-70's NEVER felt so good, and when that sun hit the face it was damn near orgasmic! Jamie and Elena were kind enough to make the 20 minute drive and drop us at our hotel, which also gave them the chance to see our area. They headed out to their place, and R and I were thinking "Man! We dodged a bullet." We check in - - nice room, clean, comfortable. So we go walking around, grabbing a bite at a small place along the beach, then check out some shops. Quite a few tourists in the area. A lot of pasty Germans. Radhika and I were infants compared to most of the visitors, but hey, we'll be fine. There were some younger people around.
The next morning, we're gathering our stuff to head to the beach when the cellphone rings. Seems Jamie had ants in his bed at the apartment in Playa Del Ingles and they want to come up to where we are!!!!!!!!!!!! The Griswold's want to come to Las Palmas!!!!!!!!!! Being the generous and helpful fellow that I am, I checked and told him our hotel had rooms (DAMN!) and that they would like the rooms (ants are an extra charge). So, we're on the beach and this shadow hovers over us - - the Griswold's have relocated!!! So we all get some sun, decide to share the rental car instead of us getting one of our own for a couple of days, and grab a dinner that night. The next morning, Jamie has a tee time at a golf course near the airport. I went out early in the morning with the car, driving to 2 small town southwest of Las Palmas. I came back just in time to pick him up and we drove to the golf course, making every wrong turn you could imagine, missing exits, having the TomTom suggest we turn right into boulders and sides of buildings. It would seem that there has been major road development on the island, and many roads, roundabouts, and highways are different in the navigator then they are in reality. There was so much cursing in that car because tee time was clicking closer and closer, and there was one, edgy Australian driving that car!!! Who said Aussies are laid back? Let missing a tee time become a possibility and you'll see some daredevil maneuvers on the road. We stopped to ask this elderly Spanish woman for help. Bless her, she didn't know we were pinched for time, because she was dishing a dissertation in Spanish involving we believe every detail of the route between where we were and where we wanted to be!! I thought Jamie was gonna yell at her to shut up already!! He kept inching the car along, and I kept saying "Gracias", but that didn't stop Senora Jabber-Jaw. I think a nuke could have gone off, the land laid waste, with skeletons flying all over the place, and she still would've been flapping those lips to our singed remains!!! We finally broke away from the sweet lady (she was! and all dressed up with her fine self too) and after trial and error (mostly error) we made it to the club with under 10 minutes to spare! We should have been there close to an hour ahead of tee time, but we burned 50 minutes easily chasing down every street on the island except the right one! I went shooting in some local towns and villages while he chased the little white ball in the grass for 4 hours or so, and the girls did their thing back in Las Palmas. Radhika chilled out in the sun, Elena shopped, I made photographs, and Jamie exorcised the little old senoras voice from his ears with the whack and crack of golf balls being propelled from his club into sand and water, no doubt. I picked him up after he notified me on my cellphone, had a couple of beers at the clubhouse with another GE employee (Jim - Mr. Facilities), and then headed back to Las Palmas for dinner and relaxation. Seems Radhika had received a 2 hour water spa and aloe massage, being very mellow. I'll finish up part 2 later, and get to our New Years Eve party at the Amsterdam crib. In the meantime, enjoy the C.I. images by clicking on the link to the right and choosing the Canary Island album when you get to the Photoshop site. Enjoy!!
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