Day 3: Happy Hangover, the Maze of Stone, Crazy Claustrophobia, and Delicious Distractions

Saturday 1 january 2022

Rhianne had never seen me this happy before. Immediately after I woke up, I took my Dutch cheese and cheese slicer with me on the balcony, brought all the way from the Netherlands. I sat in the burning sun, eating my favourite food. The birds were singing and the streets were screaming to be explored.

Rhianne didn’t look that happy. She was still faced down in bed, as if she had been struck by lightening. “I’m not feeling so good,” she said, with eyes partly closed. “I’m sorry, I can’t go out of bed yet, I need a bit more time.”

“I’m also supposed to be hangover, but for some reason, I still feel like going out for a walk,” I said. ”Are you sure you don’t want me to bring some food for you?”

“No, I’m okay, I will meet you later,” she said and disappeared underneath the blankets again.

I hopped out of the building with a camera around my neck, like the stereotype tourist. Maybe I was still drunk from the night before, because I felt euphoric when I walked along the coastline.

I’m in Spain, I’m in Spain, I’m in Spain!

My brain needed about 36 hours to realize it, but now it was undeniable.

I walked along the main road at the coast. Okay, I was wrong about the palmtrees being fat, they were thin and tall! Sorry.

I passed a ferris wheel and a huge monument of Christopher Columbus.

Not everybody likes this monument, because with the colonization of America came suppression. Still, I think he deserves a place on top of a pillar, because he must have been one hack of a curious daredevil to sail to the end of the world. Most explorers didn’t end up on pillars, because most didn’t return home. Some would have preferred that outcome, I suppose. 

I wanted to enter the cable ride, but right before I reached the station, I changed my mind. Do I really want to test my hangover? I don’t have motion sickness, but after a wild night, you never know. In one decisive step I turned 180 degrees.

I was drawn to the harbour that was filled with luxurious boats.

At la Rambla, I walked on a wooden bridge for pedestrians. I was starting to get thirsty and decided to enter a huge shopping mall. The moment I stepped in, I wanted to get out. Quickly, find a supermarket! I thought and speeded up.

Escalator up, up, left, down, right, stairs, elevator, escolator again, fuck. Water, I need water! Shops showed up everywhere, but they only sold the stuff nobody actually needs. I need water in order to survive people, nodbody wants to buy a stupid hat if they are thirsty.

I licked the dry skin on my lips. Sweat was starting to break out. No, now I’m losing water! My stomach suddenly felt raw and there was a bad taste in my mouth. My hangover hit me like bird poop.

Ask Francisca how that feels, she once got it on her head and I swore not to tell anyone. A bird pooped on me twice in my life. It both happened during the break on highschool, at exactly the same spot on my shoulder!  I swear it was the same seagull, showing off to his friends that he had prefect aiming skills. 

Halelujah! My teeth were shining the moment I broke out of the mall. The sunlight embraced me and I was back into the real world. The metal monster swallowed me whole, but spit me out again. Better luck next time, puta madre! 

I’m free, free! My euphoric walk continued along the harbour. I was so distracted by all the alien landscape that I forgot about my thirst. Remember, my thirst was almost lethal. 

I saw a fancy yacht that looked like it sailed right out of Below Deck Mediterranean. A reality show about crews that work on yachts. Watch out, it is really addictive.

There was a nice little park where people were sleeping off their hangover, maybe that’s what I had to do with Rhainne. Just relax in the park, lie on the grass, listen to music.

I picked Rhianne up from the hotel and ran to the expensive waterbottles in the fridge. I emptied one in mere seconds and felt a huge relief. If you are really thirsty, money means nothing anymore.

We walked to a great little bar that was close, called Farola. It was completely empty, which was why I liked it. We ordered two cocktails, yes here we go again! But also some food. I ordered the caprese wrap, filled with tomatoes, mozzarella, pesto and rocket (rucola). Rhianne ordered, well, just the snacks you get for free with the drinks. She was still nauseous from this morning. She had to throw up.

I took a big bite of my wrap, leaves of rocket stook out of my mouth and entered a bit more with every chew. Just like a rabbit eats. “So did you vomit a lot, or a little? What came out?” I asked, still chewing.

“Only a little, it was the cheese, afterwards I felt much better,” she said, looking a bit uncomfortable.

I laughed, “So it was my fault?” she is talking about my great Dutch cheese of course.

 “No, I shouldn’t have drunk that fruit juice, I always get sick if drink juice on an empty stomach. It’s too acidic,” She still looked uncomfortable.

By now I realized that it was a strange topic to talk about during a meal.

“O sorry, maybe we shouldn’t talk about this when we are eating. My dad also hated it if we talked about vomiting during dinner, he would say ‘don’t use the v-word’, although it was the k-word in Dutch, the k-word for kotsen,” I said laughing and took another bite. My god this wrap is amazing, I’m not going to share any of this. I pulled the plate a little closer to me on the table.

“Kotsen?” Rhianne said in good Dutch, she continues to amaze me. Especially when it comes down to her pronunciation of Dutch.

After I was almost finished with me wrap, the place filled with people. They all came at the same time. Not just any kind of people. A big group of very loud trashy adults. One woman had her hair up and so much make-up that you wouldn’t recognize her without it. They pushed three separate tables together to make one big monster table. They got extra chairs from inside to complete the witch circle.

I couldn’t hear Rhianne above the noise of the group, laughing and yelling at each other as if they sat across the street from each other. I put my bag on my lap, closed the zipper and we started walking.

We never stopped.

She walked determined through the tiny cobble streets, but we weren’t going anywhere. Almost as if she was possessed by something, maybe the ring was calling her. Mi preciado, I still hear her whispering.

We walked pass an odd piece of art, the person who made this was definitely on something.

The blisters between my toes started bleeding. O yeah, I forgot to tell you about those. I got blisters the day before. A silent protest that my feet were tired. If they could talk they would say that they wanted to lie in the grass, without shoes and those damn socks, naked!

My feet were right, they had been through enough that day. How on Earth do I stop this damn lady? Gotten crazy by all the milk she drinks.

To be fair, I was acting the strangest that day. Every narrow street that we entered started to make me feel uncomfortable. Especially if the buildings were so tall that I could barely see the sky. I felt trapped within the streets, walls, and even skies of stone.

Just act normal, I told myself. That always works.

That worked great, right until Rhianne rushed into an even narrower street. I had to look straight up, through plants, laundry and balconies to see a glimpse of the sky.  It felt like a very fat person sat down on my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

“Okay this might sounds strange, but I want to go there!” I said as I pointed my finger to the air. “For some reason I’m feeling claustrophobic in the narrow streets.”

Rhianne didn’t take it so seriously, understandable, because it appeared out of thin air. Damn, and this air smelled of pee. There was no bush, tree, or even bare soil to piss in, people did it on the streets and stones kept it nicely at the surface. Fresh pure puddles, ready to evaporate on the warm stone and going straight into your mouth and nostrils. Yes, you are actually breathing in pee if you are able to smell it. Finally that mouth mask had a purpose.

Nervously I opened and closed my hands as we continued to walk. With big eyes I stared at every narrow street we walked into, deeper and deeper into the maze of stone.

If you had dropped me in the city, I would have walked to the closest park or beach. I love big open spaces, some place with a view, what’s more satisfying than a horizon? On top of a mountain, it is just you and the sky, it literally takes the pressure off.

That wasn’t going to happen. Rhianne was determined to find a place in the maze of stone. Okay I was just going to enforce two rules. I almost had to grab her by the shoulders in order to get her to sit down.

“I like the idea of having a drink somewhere, but it needs to be at a slightly wider street and there needs to be a tree,” I said strongly.

That seemed like two conditions that she could work with. We continued walking.

We passed a beautiful theatre, that looked like a building made for the upperclass. Just like all buildings did, but this one even more.

We approached a tiny square next to a church with some trees, check and check. We walked to a table were people just left. The waiter said we could only sit there if we ate something. Rhianne quickly rejected it and we walked to the place next to it, again the waiter said that we had to order food there.

My feet were not asking to sit down anymore, they were demanding it. “Okay, let’s just order food, I can eat,” I said. I didn’t now how fast to grab the table and finally rest.

We ordered kalimares, ham and cheese croquettes and Rhianne's favourite dish.

“Do you want a small beer or medium?” The waiter asked.

“Ehm, medium,” I said. I couldn’t choose between small or large, so then medium is always that golden resolution. Except for this time.

Rhianne’s eyebrows raised up, she saw it coming. The waiter arrived with two huge mugs that were filled till the edge with beer. When I say to the edge, I really mean to the to the edge, there was no foam. It was the largest beer you can possible get. If this is medium, what is large, the whole keg?

I didn’t even feel like drinking. Again Rhianne and I were at opposites. I mostly ate the food, she mostly drank the beer. She had to finish mine, otherwise we would still be sitting there.

The food was disgusting. I got nauseous while eating it, while it was the most expensive place where we ate. All the right ingredients to make me feel very shitty afterwards. The next time if someone serves me shit food I will give it back after the first bite and not pay for it. What a ripp off!

To take our mind of things, we started to google hot guys. This is not something we usually do, but should do more often.

“This guy is hot,” Rhianne said and showed me a picture of a really old man.

 “Okay, if that’s what you are into,” I said smiling.

“He used to be hot, I mean,” she said a bit embarrassed.

We googled Aragorn, to stay in the Lord of the Rings spirit. He also used to be hot.

“This one, this one!” Rhianne said and showed me a picture of the blond vampire from True blood.

“YES! SUPER HOT!” I said, grabbing the phone out of her hand in order to see him closer.

“He always plays the bad guy in movies,” she said.

“No, you should watch ‘Mute’, in that movie he plays the good guy. He can’t talk during the movie,” I said. Good luck dubbing that, suckers.

“I also love Hugh Jackman in Van Helsing, Robbert Downey Junior as the Iron man, Sawyer from LOST, and of course Johnny Depp as CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow,” I said with dreamy eyes.

Our hangovers disappeared in an instant when we talked about hot men, such a great distraction.  

Finally, it was time to go home, back to the hotel I mean. We lied down on the beds and made proper use of our TV. Everything was dubbed in Spanish, sometimes even while you could still hear the other voice! One at a time people, one at a time. Fuck, I’m powerless. Zap!

Rhianne also hated that everything was dubbed. She quickly rushed through the channels. She often stayed watching a bit longer if nobody spoke, but the moment someone said something, zap!

No wonder they can’t speak English, they should just put subtitles on everything, learn from the Dutch please! Try to find an adult movie that is dubbed in Dutch, good luck. We are best at English, while France lies closer to it. The French dub everything just like Spain. Merde! Mierda!

Finally we ended up watching a Mexican Spanish movie. At least they looked like they were supposed to speak Spanish. Ironically, it were Spanish people who spoke English in the movie, but of course they dubbed it in Spanish.

It was as if they are testing you. First, you have the original movie that is very easy to understand. Then they mute it and ask, “Do you still understand it?”

“Well, it is a Spanish movie, so yes,” I would reply.

Then they randomly scream Spanish words through it.

“What about now?” They ask.

“That makes it a bit harder to understand, but okay,” I would say, scratching my head.

Next, they add Spanish subtitles that appear at the wrong time and say something totally different.

“And now?!” They ask.  

“Okay now it doesn’t make any sense anymore!” I would say.

Great job, thank you for the effort.

Rhianne wasn’t only confused about the language, but also about the two Spanish actors that looked so much alike.

“O I know this movie,” she said, “they are going to rob a bank together.”

“SPOILER!” I screamed, I tried to close my airs but it was already too late.

She looked very innocent at that moment, like a bunny (Flappie) right before it’s slaughtered for the Christmas dinner.

I decided not to eat her.

I almost changed my mind during the next movie.

She said, “O! O! Is that the one about...”

“No! Rhianne! Don’t spoil it!” I said a bit too harsh.

She didn’t dare to say another word, but was shyly laughing about my reaction. Apparently, I really don’t like spoilers.

I couldn’t understand what the movie was about, but it looked really interesting. It was a dramatic war zone where people were shooting at each other and dying super realistically. They shouted something that sounded like “Huevo!”

“Egg?!” I said and looked confused to Rhianne. We burst in laughter. They definitely didn’t say egg.

Rhianne passed out quite quickly, perhaps due to the liter beer she drank. For some reason, I was over my tiredness and watched TV for 5 more hours.

No way, I thought as Sherlock Holmes began. Robert Downey Junior!

Drooling I fell asleep.

The fat person finally got off my chest.