).
Breakfast tends to be a quiet affair. The Germans don't seem to talk to each other. We met up with a fellow Brit, Jack, who stuns us with the news of Diana's death. Couldn't believe it. Seems like we've missed out on a nation in shock.
Wonder how long it will be before the conspiracy theorists take over? It certainly solves a lot of problems for someone.
We did some more postcards and found the Tourist Information in Sitges,
who provided us with a splendid map of transport systems in Barcelona and
information about cheap travel. Then, in a shop round the corner, we did the
Sales and bought a pair of sensible shorts each - mine are khaki and Ross's
dark blue (one upshot of this is that at certain times he looks uncommonly
like a French schoolboy thus fueling many of my fantasies and I suspect those
of many of the other gay men around judging by the number of heads that turn
on the streets of Sitges ).
We also later on find an updated gay map for Sitges and Barcelona in one of the town's gay boutiques. This is a real find because the one we have is out of date and badly drawn.
The afternoon is spent at the Playa Monserrat. This is our name for the hotel's roof garden. Fabulous. Your own sunny spot. Chairs laid out for you. A quick trip to the room to get requisites or down to the foyer for drinks. And no sand invading your private bits. We also meet up with Jack again and he supplies us with information about Barcelona's tourist bus.
Dinner under the stars at Flourisant but frankly it was overpriced for what it was.
Today, Wednesday, has been another Playa day. We did find a good secondhand book shop in town and that eases my worries about running out of reading materials and being forced to buy up every English language newspaper each morning. I'm beginning to relax also. I get flashback memories of all sorts of bits of my life from the last 30 years as I lie in the sun. Oh, by the way, it's official. I now need to put sun tan cream on top of my head.
It's also a day for idly chatting with Jack. He's leaving on Saturday, which it turns out will also be the day of Diana's funeral. He's not looking forward to it. I hope he's replaced by another nice English person with whom I can talk. I actually quite like talking to other people than Ross. It can feel very isolating being with one person all the time.
Back to Chez Jeannette's and a wonderful fish soup.
Then back to the hotel. Ross straddles me, impales himself on me and lets go.
I think we're both starting to relax.