The Big Questions

For the past week or so I’ve been positively overwhelmed by the number of questions I’ve received about what I’m getting up to over here in Europe. To satisfy your curiosity, I hereby present answers to the top ten questions put to me most recently. Please note: these questions are all genuine enquiries from the public (which flooded in an overwhelming manner), and were certainly not made up by me as I sat a flat that smelled of paint and went slowly mental.

How is Madrid going?

Honestly I’m getting over it. The chief attraction for staying in Madrid in the first place was that it was a good central location from which to hop around and see the other parts of Spain. Unfortunately my financial situation hasn’t played out like I hoped it would, which has meant I’ve been basically grounded, except for a couple of very ambitious excursions to certain areas of the east coast. So that’s it! I’m over it!

And the big news? I’ve got myself a month long contract at a summer camp in Malaga. It should sort me out with enough cash to furnish a moderate sized European jaunt before getting over the whole stupid continent and heading back to the real world. And that’s the good news.

So…

When are you coming home?

The upshot of all this is that it yields a reasonable timeframe for planning my triumphant return to Australia. Look for me in the eventide, when summer’s shadows fall across a golden field and the full moon is alignment with the constellation of asparagus.

Alternatively: I’m planning on heading home some time in September. Just turn around and I’ll be there.

Have you found yourself a Spanish girlfriend?

No, nor do I have any intention of getting one. There are a number of reasons for this, not the least of which is that I can’t speak enough Spanish to be in with a shot even if I was after a girl. Also, most of the girls over here, while often quite attractive, smoke like chimneys. Automatic disqualification.

What are you going to do when you get back to Australia?

Now that is a good question. At this stage my gaze is still firmly set on Darwin (I have extremely good eyesight for someone 14545.7 kilometres away). Apart from that, the post-European jaunt future is looking a little blurry, particularly where employment and accommodation are concerned. If you are reading this in Darwin (I’m not actually sure if I have any readers there these days, but it can’t hurt to find out) feel free to drop me a line with any hot tips. Ah nepotism, thou art a fickle wench. No, I’m not sure what that means either. I just like to say wench.

How do you type with boxing gloves on your hands?

What? I think you might have sent this one to the wrong person. Um… DELETED!

How is your Spanish coming along?

Better than I thought. I can get by in most simple conversations as long as the other party doesn’t speak too fast or use any curly local expressions. It also helps if the person I’m talking to is from Spain, as opposed to South America (or China). Trying to speak Spanish with that lot is like having a Frenchman who learned English in Australia trying to speak with someone from Glasgow.

How the hell is it June already?

I know! I’m convinced that something has gone wrong with the space-time continuum. Or maybe time just goes faster in the Northern hemisphere? Not enough… Capricorns or something.

Are you eating properly?

Yes… yes totally. Yes. Food over here is much cheaper than in Australia. I’m living off a staple diet of “Chicken Casserole Surprise” which basically consists of pasta, tinned vegetables, salami and a local pre-mixed sauce, which is just called ‘meat sauce’. I don’t know what we would call it in English, but I choose to think of it as a possibility for merchandise 7X.

It probably isn’t though.

If you’ve lived in Madrid for five months, how come you still haven’t been to the Prado Gallery?

Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m getting around to it slowly. I’m really not that enthused by paintings, but if I go home without going there I’m just going to look silly. Maybe this weekend. Or maybe I’ll end up WENCH! lying in Retiro Park all afternoon again. Anything could happen. It’s cah-razy-lah!

Have you settled into a good church?

Nope. My religious observances in the form of regular service attendance has been fairly token (I’ve been three times in five months, and one of them was Easter Sunday, for which you get zero points). I should probably be feeling a bit more guilty about this than I am. Actually, taking a break from church with a little c has been pretty good. I’m still getting input via iTunes sermons from CBTB back in Sydney (How cool is ArchB. Jensen, by the way?) and getting something that vaguely resembles fellowship via various online social networks, so it wouldn’t really be right to say I’m slipping away from the Church with a big C. And if you don’t understand the distinction between a church and the Church, don’t panic. Once I hit Darwin there’s going to be a full explanation. Actually, you probably won’t be able to get me to shut up about it, and will get thoroughly sick of it and stop reading this blog and go read some daily update about pictures of native flora in Colorado.

And if that’s your attitude, then fine! I don’t need you anyway. I’m quite happy uploading a couple of pages of gunk to the intertron every couple of weeks for my own entertainment. Go on and get out of here, blog wench.

Far from home




Garry with 2 Rs