Heyy,
This was the last thing I needed before my holiday with the girls?! Issues with my phone. After completing a system/software update on my beloved Samsung Galaxy Note4, upgrading the operating system from Android Lollipop to Android Marshmallow (*Geeky snort* for being so nerdy) it decided to knock out all my contacts leaving me unable to access my address book, call log, or even my key pad to call 999 for emergencies. As scary and frustrating as this is I also lost all my contact names so if I was able to make any texts, which was difficult as the system would just crash after a few seconds of being in my messages, I couldn't know for sure who I was texting as my names-to-numbers had been lost. Frustratingly after several calls to Samsung, over nine-hours backing up all my data, a factory reset and an unsuccessful restore of data my phone is still running at the same speed as a Windows PC with Packard Bell 1994 installed. So god help the poor person that has to answer my next call to Samsung when I touch down in England because for the love of god I will rip them a new arsehole.
Anyhoo! I am on holibobs in the serenity that is the Canaries. Lanzarote to be precise. Has it been hotty in Lanzarote? Sort of. After touching down on the island known famously for its volcanic rock and black sand beaches, we were finally allowed off the plane by our snotty Liverpudlian air hostess and through our very grumpy passport control. To be brutally honest, apart from him sitting on a chair I genuinely thought to myself as he slapped my passport back to me on the desk that he resembled something of a seven dwarf from the fairytale. But myself and my Tweedles were far from Disney Princesses, and after a manic half-day at work, stretching myself between trying to sort my phone out and actually doing some work of my own I was more than pooped. An uneventful coach journey to the resort and cheeky cigarette on the balcony, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I were ready for bed.
Waking up on the first morn of our week long holiday together Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I were very excited to get out and about and explore all the sites and sounds that the darkness had hidden from us the night before. Our hotel, a white-washed building typical of Spanish architecture is called Oceano and whilst is not a five-star resort, certainly is one of the nicest "Budget-Budget" holiday resorts we have stayed in, even if you do have to pay for everything from the Wi-fi to the Kettle. The room is large and allows us all to have a bed as opposed to one of us always having to kip on the couch. The large balcony, overlooking the pool and bar areas it is the perfect spot that allows all three of us to sunbath topless on days when there is no point wasting money on beach sun-loungers for twenty-minutes worth of sun. Heading to the beach we singled out many a restaurant and were slightly bemused by why there are so many Chinese establishments on such a small strip. Nevertheless we were all soon down to our carefully selected swim-wear, basking in the sunshine and soaking up all the tanning time we could. But, as always, we went too far. Myself and Miss Tweedle-Dee are currently still regretting having a little afternoon snooze on said beach whilst the sun blazed our skin, turning me especially into what can only be described as a Christmas Candy Cane when naked. Mr. Warehouse back home finds this side-splittingly hilarious. Aftersun at the ready we have slowly began to relieve the sting although the redness I fear will last long after we leave the island. I wanted a Beyonce Bronzed Glow about me when I returned to my desk, not a Coke Can Original Hue!
Saturday was overcast and feeling like the holiday sun might be gone forever we took to trawling the shops for anything exciting to spend our hard earned and poorly exchanged Euro's on. It is definitely all tat that we don't need but for some odd reason five fridge magnets with penis' and bottle openers on for a Euro each seems very good value for money, even if it will get some strange gasps from Nanny Pumpkin when she comes round. I have however seen some exceptional examples of faux handbags. The 'designer inspired' handbags will certainly be going in my luggage at the end of the trip and suffice to say that with my haggling techniques I may have luck in bagging more than one, if you will excuse the pun.
Heading to the market Yesterday was a highlight as it always is, however yet more tat graced the beautiful cobbled streets of ancient market town of Teguise. Enough faux Michael Kors and Mulberry to drown in and even more magnets with phallus shapes adorning them. Cotton anklets, friendship bracelets and wooden foldout fruit bowls were all sold to us as Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I walked through the streets. Coming to the end of our tether we agreed on a coffee and a bite to eat in order to get some worth from the trip. A few hours or so wasted we headed back to the bus and headed home, none of us buying anything apart from a magnet and a thimble as souvenirs.
Although the day was bleak, we still decided on the evening being a right old British knees-up, starting with what should have been a banging Chinese. although, as with many of the restaurants out here, you are simply not allowed to browse the menu outside, the owners and staff invite you in to look at the food, pressurise you if you would like a table, add you on Facebook, Invite you to their second-cousins wedding next year and convince you to be the birthing partner for Great Aunt Isabella. OK maybe taking it too far, but nevertheless I was thrust into the seat of a questionable all-you-can-eat Chinese Buffet before I could even say Hello Kitty. After what was an OK meal, we all paid. However as I was the only one (I always am) to put in the incorrect money for the meal, I waited patiently for my change. I was to be waiting a long time for I think they mistook it as a gracious tip and kept it. Sipping on my weird-tasting apperifer, from a shot-glass that contained a naked, 1970's-styled porn star with a large cock at the bottom I thought to myself that if the local Chinese thinks I am tipping them next time they bring me a delivery then they will be sorely mistaken. Afterwards we went to see a drag act which was funny if a little scary when he/she/it/they look your way!
Suffice to say that today has been better as I have spent most of the day lounging on the sunbed at the beach, taking trips to the ocean and rocks for a dip and on the odd occasion, with Miss Tweedle-Dumbs support of course, venturing out into the deepness of the Mediterranean ocean, away from the prying eyes of men in snorkels and children in goggles, to strip off and into the basic bathing suit that mother nature blessed us with, and all in the light of day. Honestly, nothing makes you feel more free or at one with the world than pulling off your bikini bottoms and unsnapping your bikini top. I found something out today as well that I have always wondered but never known how to achieve in the suburban environment of my homelands. Do Boobs float? Well I can tell you all today folks that yes, yes they do. And boy does skinny dipping give you the breast-lift you have always dreamt of. Oh yes. I would highly recommend anyone, heck everyone, skinny dipping and am glad that I have had the opportunity to brave the taboo.
So right now the Tweedles are showering and making themselves beautiful for dinner tonight. They needn't have to though because on this holiday it has shown me just how much I love them and our friendship. After last weeks debacle with my father and how low I have been after accepting him as the selfish and arrogant arse he is, I am glad to have chosen-sisters who will always have my back, especially when the Chinese man decides not to give you back your change.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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