Ok, so TDT and I have come to the land of Tapas, Flamenco, Dodgy English crooks and San Miguel (Oh, San Miguel, why do you make me drink you so...). After 3 hours sleep on Tuesday night, we left at the crack of dawn to head to the Costa Del Sol. We arrived at our apartment just after 2, and luckily Mr. Key Holder (no relation to Noddy) was still in the office, so we checked in. We had a quick shower, changed and went for a bite to eat, before ending up at a poolside bar run by the delightful Linda from Wolverhampton.
Ok, so by 6 we were getting 'there'. Where 'there' is, however, shouldn't involve 'happy hour' with BOGOF offers of alcohol in another bar called the Cave not 20 paces away. The arrival of 'there' was just before 9, and everything else is very hazy.
Then yesterday we decided to walk (yes, walk!) into town in the morning, have a spot of lunch and maybe a browse of the shops, before getting a taxi home. Oh, the best laid plans of mice and men, because we knew about the Spanish siesta time, but forgot. We found ourselves in the middle of the not unsubstantial town looking for a taxi. The map said there was a rank there, but there wasn't. Tumbleweed was bouncing down the sun-baked street and we were almost panicking about getting home. TDT admitted later she was close to tears, as the sun just got hotter, and hotter, and hotter. The air felt like being blasted with hot sand, and even breathing was becoming difficult. Then, our saviour! A nice taxi driver, with an airconditioned people carrier with blacked out windows appeared. We returned to the bar, but this time were prepared for the alcohol, so drank more slowly whilst sitting by the pool and catching rays.
Guess what we're going to do today? Yup, that's it. Sit by the pool, and catch some rays. I could get used to this.
It was one of those horrible moments, the sort that make you feel like the pit of your stomach has fallen out. The news on Thursday lunchtime of a mine collapse not 5 miles from where I used to live made me truly feel sick, and by Friday evening, the news that all four miners that had been trapped had been found dead made the tragedy all the more worse. Unfortunately, unlike most people I feel two emotions when it comes to a calamity like this.
Mining in the area is probably 200 years old. It was one of the largest coal fields in the country, and although it was mostly exhausted, it now is dotted with small private mines. This does not mean however that safety should be skipped over any more than a mine with 1000 miners in it. Surely using old mine workings to get to the new face should ensure regular safety checks, new reinforcement and maybe even a new shaft in place. It was this old section of mine that collapsed. You'd think, after 200 years, we'd learned how to not go down a hole in the ground without loss of life, but apparently not. Meanwhile, 4 families, 3 of which are from Ystalyfera not 2 miles from my old home, are torn apart by their losses. Sadness and anger should not and do not mix well.
Meanwhile, elsewhere on the net, some presumably teenage thug without respect for anybody or anything decided to set up a group on facebook. "I'm really sad for those four miners. LOL j/k, they were Welsh" was set up so that people can comment on the disaster and make jokes about the Welsh, sheep, leeks and miners. Sick was not the word, and within minutes objections were being put forward to facebook bosses, Police and MPs. Sure enough, as of this morning, the site has been taken down. But, and here's the crux, the creator will probably get away scott free. What FB should do is trace any other accounts to do with the creator and disable them, then contact the email providers who them disable him or her from ever having another email address again, contact the ISP who close his or her account, and even make their mobile phones no longer work.
Well let's face it, if they can't use the internet respectfully, they shouldn't be using it at all.
I got thinking. What would the characters of Asterix and Obelix be if they were in modern times?
Asterix the Gaul would be Asterix the Frenchman.
Obelix would be a white van man.
Getafix the druid would be a pharmacist.
Dogmatix would be a pitbull.
Chief Vitalstatistics would be the local politician.
Cacofonix would be a C list celebrity (probably appearing on Strictly Come Dancing)
Geriatrix would be living on his own, eating Kitekat.
Mrs. Geriatrix would be Anna Nicole Smith.
Psychoanalytix would be a shrink.
Unhygienix would be struggling to make a living from the North Sea fish quotas.
Fulliautomatix would have an account with Machine Mart.
Polytechnix would be a teacher.
Postaldistrix would be working for Fed Ex.
Justforkix would be an extreme sports specialist.
"Thankfully lacking in sheep." Ricardipus "Better than Typhoid" Vicus Scurra "Force of Habit" Mosh "Done, but with errors on page" Sharon (formerly known as Adrian) "That'll do, pig. That'll do." Dawn "I feel all warm & fuzzy here among my fellow deviants." Bryn "Another Ricicles fan." Debster "It's a GREAT website." Big sis in Florida "Your website is the best thing since sliced bread and gravy granules" Cuz'n Doug