January 2006

[Sweder]

Our adventure begins here in Almería with our most accommodating host and friend, Antonio. Andy and I have indulged in an orgy of self-congratulation regarding our mutual weight-loss and general abstainance from alcohol and sweets.

Pride, as regular visitors here will know, comes before a fall, or in our case a drop of about 12 inches. Halos polished we exited Antonio's car, parked in his batcave - er, underground garage, and entered the elevator bound for the upper decks leading to the obligatory Tapas Tour. Alas, the lift doors closed and with an apologetic sigh and an alarming shudder the contraption sank a foot into its well. Lift duly abandoned and embarassed apologies muttered to a local resident (who could barely have weighed in at 120 lbs dripping wet), we hauled our collective bulk up the stairs, consoled by the general agreement that, as the only non-athlete in our party, the broken elevator was entirely the fault of SP.

Wind and rain has lashed this fair province all day.
We head for our duvets with hearts full of hope and a prayer that the skies are all cried out.