I just ducked into a chain bakery and bought the most giant chocolate cake you ever saw. Because i have no hotel and it is pissing down. I am soaked. It's rare that i wish for an umbrella, but right now it'd be great. I can't even sightsee. Aside from soaking my only pair of jeans, if i pull out my phone it will drown, and if i pull out a map it'll disintegrate.
And clothes shopping? Ugh, i couldn't even walk into a store. I hate it at home, don't know what entered my head i should do it when i'm on vacation. Animal instinct to run for shelter i guess. Trumped by hatred of shopping.
God, i can't eat this. I hardly ever eat sweets. What am i doing? I think it's more the idea of it.
Another sad thing. The one day wifi would totally make my day, i take shelter in a Spanish version of Starbucks that doesn't have wifi. Crap.
I am still soaking wet, but thank God for tapas bars. I've spent the last 2 hours here and will stay on till siesta. It's still pissing down. Some Belgians and Brits are clustered along the bar together with me. I think we're all struggling for something to do in this weather - we have no homes to go to. I still haven't checked into the hotel i booked, but i did drop my bag there. I hope they don't dump it on the sidewalk if i don't show for a while. The weather is abysmal and now i am at least somewhere warm with alcohol and music i don't really want to leave.
Interestingly this is the first tapas bar i've been to where they slice jamón off the leg and cheese off the wheel right at the bar. I guess i needed an "oldskool" tapas experience too. It's the perfect day for it. Can't sit under a palm tree in this weather. Fabulously they are playing Abba, John Denver and more for the drunk Brits to sing along to. Normally this would be annoying, but in this rain we have a shared misery and a shared guilty pleasure.
God, all there is to do in this rain is drink. This is a really great bar, despite the tourists and expats, but i think it's closing for siesta soon. I really hope my cheap-ass hotel is okay to bum around in for a few hours. I don't mind sleeping overnight in a dive, but in the daytime you kinda want something you can feel a bit cozy in till the bars reopen. Eh. We'll see.
This town sure got a lot more lively once the rain passed. I spent a couple hours bumming around in my hotel room - which, by the way, is the nicest i've had yet - then took a quick walk around the old fort. I still have no idea what the point of invading was. Ceuta i get - control over the Gibralter Strait, especially given us Brits invaded the Spanish side - but here?
This whole town baffles me. Everything i expected to be a bit more African is a bit more Spanish (the architecture, the food, the flora)... And things i did not expect to see in Spain i do see here (military presence everywhere, tons of bros, Gaddafi-model Mercedes, beat up old jeeps...) I guess i should conclude that cars and the patriarchy cross borders easier than food and art? I am no closer to understanding this place than when i arrived, but it's been an interesting time.
Although, that said, food-wise. I just ordered a plate of mystery meat that one of the waiters is grilling on the bbq in the park across the road. That's new.
Holy crap that was good. A solid bro meal. "Hey, those fries don't have enough protein, let's add a couple of fried eggs." "Hey, that salad doesn't have enough protein, let's dump a can of tuna on it." What's the actual protein? Lamb kebabs. Yum. I'm going to roll my ass into bed. Tomorrow, Motril.