Ya me he ido. I'm already gone.

On a rainy, unusually chilly night in Marbella, Spain, two teenage girls ran from the marina in Puerto Banus -*smack*- into a metal guardrail on their way to a bar. Oops.

Ow, my leg. We limped over the guardrail and went to a mostly empty joint called Gringo's. It had been recommended by someone we met at a restaurant. Wonder why. Silly Americans.

Here we are, in jet-set heaven (or hell depending on your taste,) cold and wet and bruised and sober, and nobody jet-setty to look at. I had expected the pages of Hola! to come to life but so far on this trip, on my first day, no dice.

I write about this rainy night for two reasons. First, I heard The Eagles' "Already Gone" on the classic rock station. Then, I watched Piers Morgan on Marbella. Connection. Here's why.

I de-planed in Madrid for my semesters-abroad-experience, and I looked like this...

 
A couple of weeks after this poufy-permed-hair photo was snapped I got on a train bound for the Costa del Sol with a new friend who was very excited about going to party in Puerto Banus and I was like "Whaaat? Que?  Where?" And the only pics I have from the trip itself are of us shivering in front of the Rock of Gibraltar. Anyway, that flower is behind me, not on top of my Julia-Roberts- wannabe-hair. (Unfortunately this was not a banana-clip hairstyle day.)

At this Gringo's place we drank big beers while the DJ played the Eagles' Greatest Hits. To this day I hear  "Tequila Sunrise" and I get a quick flash of Marbella. Lest you think all I remember is partying with obnoxious English tourists, I also recall the pretty orange trees in the courtyard of our hostel. But free oranges didn't do very much to help soak up the alcohol.

I had no idea Marbella was full of such dirty money and dirty birds. Thanks for ruining the illusion for me now, Piers. 

Back in the 80's I had just flown out of sheltered suburbia to Madrid, then I transported myself to a sandbox in the devil's playground. Oh, I embellish un poco. I was there before the big boom, when Marbella was just a little demon's playground. Not the devil. But I was so naive anyway that I wouldn't have known a male prostitute or a drug deal if they were in front of my face.

My amiga and I bar hopped after listening to the Eagles at Gringo's and getting momentarily homesick, and ended the night at La Comedia, which is still there.

And I was thinking to myself "This could be heaven or this could be he-heh-ell"  Are you kidding me - bars and discos and boys boys boys until 7 am?  Si, por favor. That was a slice of heaven.  

Take it easy, I'm exhausted just thinking about it. 

But I'd like to go there right about now.

Comments

[lg]

May I just say great post! Not only interesting, random-in-a-good-way, and written well but spaced well . . . it was very easy to read. As someone who writes "easy to read" for a living (one sentence graphs), I know it's not always easy to write.

Course, my comment is not at all easy to read or understand. Some writer.

[blaugra]

Thank you lg, professional writer girl!! Of course I know exactly what you're clearly saying.

Sometimes my head is clear enough to write that way, sometimes not. Most times not.