Barcelona tales: I chose not to remove my trousers.

So, my first (and only) full day at the beach began. I found a nifty cafe for breakfast and had it INDOORS. In Spain?? Would you Adam and Eve it?! But, it was pleasant, and I wasn’t too disappointed there was no fruit available to accompany my crunchy muesli, (health kick, remember)

After whiling away a few hours, I hunted down the massage joint. Now, in the resort I was in, this could be a project fraught with some difficulty. I did NOT want a happy ending, I didn’t even need the masseur to smile. I plumped for a Thai massage, as it stated ‘relaxing’ on the leaflet, and I thought a happy ending is anything but that.

I booked my first session in just an hour’s time, because I was that impressed by the ‘parlour’. I was typically, awkwardly English when he asked me to remove my clothes. However, he said I could put this brown piece of material on if I wanted. They were weird ‘pantaloons’ I had no idea which way up they went, let alone how to put them on, so when he came back in he had to help me. He was that close to seeing my member. Ugh.

But, oh, my, god, it was an insane massage. The guy must have been exhausted. He trampled all over me, and it was so painful, but so good for me! It really loosened me up! I had an hour and a half, and booked another 45 minutes for the next day! I even tweeted about them, regardless of the fact they hadn’t sent one themselves since 2009.

I later bought some groceries in the small supermarket down the road. I felt like I was in an episode of Eldorado, the defunct British BBC soap. I bought those sexy lupin seeds, strawberries from another planet, and almonds with a dusting of whatever.

I decided I would have sushi for my evening meal, as I had passed a restaurant earlier. Although, later on, I couldn’t find it, and had a vegetable-topped pizza instead (health kick). I then fell asleep to another Almodovar movie on iTunes.