Mi Casa, San Juan, Alicante

Thursday, September 16th, 2010

Finding it is a bit like going to a rave.  First, you need to know a local hombre to get the number.  On tinkling, you are directed to another telephone box to wait for a call.  Then, like the shopkeeper in Mr Benn, a taxi appears to pick you up from Alicante town centre and you are driven 20 minutes up the coast, blindfolded.

This sort of experience excites the hell out of me and has my salivary glands pissing like a Dutch dyke.

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Vila do Grove, Puerto Banús

Monday, July 30th, 2007

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.

It looks better than this at night…for some reason!

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