Tour de Vigo

Since the beginning of school was still about a week away, and all we had to before that was to find an apartertent, we thought we'd walk around and try to get a general idea of the city. Obviously that went to hell. The very first morning we thought it would be a good idea to follow the coast line towards the beaches in the west. After about 45 minutes of walking along the sidewalk of a road that failed our hopes to be an idyllic seaside boulevard by, in effect, being a high-speed, heavy traffic, city bypass road we decided to find a café of some sort to ask for information and hopefully to have lunch. The fantastically untidy lunch restaurant/bistro/hole that we finally stumbled upon was definitely an experience. For a very affordable 5,50 e we got a macaroni soup ! of some kind, some bread and what can only be described as "pieces of marinated meat alongside a cold potato omelette", all topped off with a plethora of suggestive looks and remarks from a bunch of dirty (in all the meanings of the word) guys in overalls, mostly directed towards Kataya. We decided it was time to move on.

Having covered the Docks, we looked back and counted the women we had seen thus far. We got a total of one: the bistro/hole's owner's daughter who had apparently had a major miscommunication with her hairdresser, as an important contemporary Nottinghamese thinker would put it. She basically looked like Jaroslav Sakala. The jury came to the unanimous decision that the Docks were not going to become one of our hangout spots. Samil, the beach area, or one of them, was actually pretty damn sweet, as Kataya expresses below.

Even though the weather was not exactly hot, I was forced to walk around in just a T-shirt, because that's what you do on a beach. However, remembering the heart-warming comments of me being fat and hairy by some of my dear friends earlier, in Facebook, I donned my shirt again, thus avoiding pneumonia and getting away with just a sore throat. We also saw some old guys (with old...) playing basketball, but I decided not to join, because I had a sore throat, and, well, they were about as good as my mom.


On Friday we visited the university. Well, they call it "the university", when in reality it unquestionably is only a front for a top-secret, mountain training centre for secret agents or guerilla soldiers, for the following reasons:

1. The buidings are illogical, they have loads of corridors, tunnels, pathways, ungerground lairs!, and probably oodles of trap-doors. The buildings are also low, and far away from each other, for anti-bombing reasons.

2. It's streets cannot be found on googlemaps or the commuter traffic firm Vitrasa's web pages, plus it has a Photomat. (Obviously for fake passports and IDs)

3. It is located about 15 kms outside the city in the mountains, making it almost unreachable by bus or tanks. It has a very good view over the valley below, and most of the landscaping looks suspiciously like bunkers.

4. The track&field area only includes possibilities for running, pole jump, long jump and rugby, all vital for spies. (rugby for being able to push people away while running away from the enemy on any given narrow alley/street in any given Asian metropolis) WHERE THE HELL ARE THE FOOTBALL FIELDS?? IT'S SPAIN FOR GOD'S SAKE!!

Anyway, I'll keep you posted on that, although I might have to kill you later..

P.S. I stuffed 12 Haribo candies in my mouth simultaneously. My personal best.