Confessions of a Wino

There is no hiding place for the rich these days.  All the summer High Society events are being gatecrashed by chavs.  Royal Ascot this year even tried to enforce a new dress code that ladies must (amongst other things) wear knickers, and not on display.

We are supposed to be heading fast into the biggest recession since the 1920’s and yet I see no evidence of spending slowing.  As every generation passes, it becomes more affordable to travel to, and participate in, the rich playgrounds of Europe.  You don’t need a yacht to blend in at Puerto Banús, but if you haven’t got one, it helps if you have several tattoos and can chunder at top volume into the early hours, or simply pass out, drunk, on the front of some expensive clothes shop at 4am.

The world famous prostitutes of Puerto Banús draw similar class lines, with prices pitched accordingly, although at both price points there seems to be a massive over-supply problem that is being addressed by aggressive marketing tactics.  A Brazilian, and by this I mean a woman from Brazil, approached me, “You is beautiful” she whispered in my ear.  You are beautiful I corrected.  “Oh thank you!”  No, not at all what I meant, sorry, goodbye…

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It’s taken me ages to get round to posting much about the lads’ trip at the end of June 07.  You remember I left you while we were eating lunch on the first day.  Well a man of my stature (weight that is) needs to eat at least twice a day so the evening found us at Vila do Grove, just behind the Hotel Andalusia Plaza.

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