Smiling at Strangers on Trains

Hola senors and senoritas, generic Spanish welcomes abound. At precisely 12.00 today I had my telephone interview for Pamplona. I was subjected to my very own Spanish inquisition. Sure the person was an American and it was more of an informal interview without the torture but she was inquisitive nonetheless. She rattled through the normal questions about where I did my CELTA and what I already have experience in. When she asked what I was prepared to do I resisted the temptation to make jokes about not going down on the first date, and settled for the more appropriate/dull answer. After describing the school and how it works, which is very similar to Bucharest, I am delighted to say I was offered a job. She wouldn't have done if she knew she was talking to me at noon and I was in dressing gown with Football Asia on mute. My team and pride of Japan, Urawa Red Diamonds, are doing very nicely thank you. I have since duly accepted. I'm already excited and after weeks of aimless waiting and time wasting it is such a relief to know that there is something on the horizon. It doesn't start until September (the 17th to be precise) so still plenty of time to wallow away a lazy summer like something from the Wind and the Willows.

I have tried to find out some stuff on Pamplona to regale you with, as education is my middle name, but it was a little trickier than expected. A vast majority of it is about San Fermin where they run with the bulls. I did read that at San Fermin they have a junior version of the running of the bulls, known as the fire bull. It doesn't involve an actual bull, its a wooden version that is run through the streets and spits out fireworks which the kids have to avoid. Thats good clean fun, indoctrinate them young. They used to use a real bull. Pamplona boasts a palace, a cathedral, a castle, two universities and it has a planetarium with the largest dome in the world. Your conferencing needs are also met as the Baluarte Conference Centre is one of the largest in Spain. Businesstastic. So far I'm no where closer to knowing if the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain.

I hope you all are happy and shiny. kisses x

Brutus Beefcake

Until this weekend there has not been much too write, unless you want a detailed breakdown of my football manager season with Darlington, which from previous experience you don't. However this weekend has been a lot better. Sunday was a great day. The mighty Charlton heroically put in a performance forty five games too late, 4-2 to relegate Norwich. Sorry Mark, Shiner and Matt but Barnsley won so it doesn't matter. Though the highlight was one of the players three year old son. At the end of the game he placed the ball on the centre circle and ran towards goal. He had the whole grounds attention for the five minutes it took him to run to the goal. Everyone was willing him to score but in full Charlton kit he ran it wide. Charlton is just in the blood. He picked up the ball put it back on field and ran it in to loud cheers and he even had a song in his honour. I caught the train into central London to meet Alex with a whole carriage of Norwich fans. One had a blow up doll he had dressed as man to keep him company all the way to Norwich.

It was great to see Alex and Smith, plans for a London dash have been put into motion. Alex also had the good fortune to see a man wanking in the toilet. Only in trendy London.

Then it was off to meet people in Gravesend via Dartford, a route that makes you feel a little dirty. Catherine, Matt and Patrick all made the best come backs since Sister Act 2. Patrick brought his new lady friend, Christine, who is lovely, and far too good for Pat but there you are. She hasnt been put off by a trip to Gravesend, must be serious.

A bbq with Lee was fun, despite being repetitively beaten in staring contests by a five year old girl. So much so, she called me a loser and took pity on me and left me a broken and defeated man.

Other than that flurry of activity I have had plenty of time on my hands. So I made the executive decision to join the largest remnant of European fascism, a gym. Alex has already waded in and called me a Yuppie, which I would accept if it wasn't Alex calling me it. Yes I know I can jog for free but if my attitude to joggers on the street is anything to go by I couldn't handle the scorn. So far so good, other than one instance of misusing a machine which led to me halving my ability to have children.

This post might not mean much to a lot of people but as I said, life is a little slow at the moment. Won't stop me writing though, I like to tell people about my uneventful life, like an old lady on a bus.

love love love x