On arriving in Reus I spent my first uneventful week in the city at a local hotel and I, with some local assistance, attempted to find a suitable place to rent. However, as I was soon to learn, nothing happens quickly in Spain and by the time my check out date was fast approaching I was still no further forward. As the hotel was fully booked for the next week I managed to secure a holiday apartment for two weeks just between the holiday towns of Salou and Cambrils.
A couple of weeks beside the sea what could be better?
Salou and Cambrils although only 5 miles apart geographically are 1000 miles apart culturally. Whilst Cambrills is a small coastal town with a very picturesque harbour frequented by well-heeled tourists, Salou is a 24 hour party town for British and Irish drunken tourists and the more than the occasional Russian organised crime member adorned with the full set of native custodial artwork.
For the next 2 weeks, it was like living in the pages of Viz magazine. One night I saw about 20 or so Sandras and Tracys, all shoehorned into lycra handkerchiefs with L plates augmenting their very scanty fashion statements, prowling the main walkway next to the beach looking for some victims. In between pit stopping at every bar they waddled past for a couple of quadruple vodka and red bulls, these delights often slipped into McDonalds for the odd plate of fast food or into the shrubs for the odd piss. Pass the eye bleach please!
As usual these fat slags were chatted up by squads of Big Vern’s. You know the type, no-top-on Neanderthal tattooed retards who were just out after doing 5 years in prison for pounding some unfortunate chaps skull to bits with a hammer because he refused to give him a cigarette, but true to form once their beer goggles had been adjusted to “There actually is enough drink in the world!” away they went, hard at it with the Lycra clad land whales. More eye bleach over here please!
It was not all bad though as I witnessed a seldom now seen good old-fashioned-no-weapons-involved beating being handed out. This was really quite a spectacular show despite the extreme level of intoxication of those administering the punishment to the needy.
The story is that one night as I was sitting on the terrace of a bar I noticed two boys around 10 or 12 years old playing pool at a table near to where I was sitting. From their accents, the boys were quite clearly Scottish, and so were their parents who were drinking themselves into oblivion on the other side of the terrace. A short while later I noticed two non-English speaking men (not Spanish) in their late 20’s or early 30’s had begun playing pool at the adjacent table to the boys. One guy behaved normally but the other guy kept trying to engage the boys in conversation and could not stop looking at them. At this point a long-forgotten police induced voice in my head started speaking to me again. I decided it was time for me to leave, but not before casually informing the boys fathers of what I had seen. It was the devil that made me do it but you could hear the commotion for about a half mile in any direction. Utterly outstanding!
Sadly my two week visit to the zoo was over. As I had secured a flat in the centre of Reus it was time to leave Salou for some well needed sleep and normality. Once in the flat my life settled down to my own form of normality and I then decided it was time for me to explore the surrounding area on the bike.
The roads here are absolutely superb with long smooth stretches of unbroken grippy tarmac, no potholes, very little traffic, quiet Spanish villages, and spectacular scenery everywhere you look
I must confess to taking advantage of these empty roads with their hot sticky tarmac by using my bike to its full potential, what a blast!
If only it could talk!