You never bloody where its gonna take you next…. 2 months ago i was in Bermuda with the family and basically baby-sitting full-time. Now I’m touring Spain with my new girlfriend, and have a flat in Barcelona…. unexpected but I’m not complaining.
Back with more free time on my hands and writing for Stoke Travel so life is turning down a pleasant path.. Although shit can always take a left turn I prefer to think it can last a long time, plus my lady is a dream come true so I hope it does.
I still find the whole situation to be a bit surreal, transferring from Bermuda to a dame in the sunshine and endless sex… Beats the shit out of applying for boring jobs, plus Stoke is still growing and venturing to new places like Brazil and Thailand so theres no need to jump ship.
So there’s my update, we’re off to Seville tomorrow..
As I lay in my bed amidst passing over from full-time (to part-time) for Stoke Travel for a real-estate internship, I got to say its nice to finally get a chance to chill…
With a week to prepare the crossover and most of the Stoke crew attending to our surf camp in San Sebastian…there’s not as much to do as normal.
So with a free day to just do as I please, I’ve decided to just chill… the only thing I had to do was make a quick stop to the bank yesterday.
As I’ve lived in Barcelona for a considerable time I have no real desire to run around and see things like a tourist….
Instead I’ve spent my time doing things I haven’t had much time to do lately… research music, read a bit, and chill at one of my fav parks where I just laid under a tree… and enjoyed the sounds of my surrounding environment, to just relax.
Since I’ve left my country a year ago it’s been nothing but hectic, during this time I’ve:
Graduated from University in Barcelona
Completed a 3 month Eurotrip
Undertaken a Master’s course in London
Switched to crisis stricken Spain instantly for work
As I’ve also been Living with women, had Friends constantly visit and just been doing whatever I can to make a name for myself here…. finding a day for myself has been difficult.
Having a guilt-free wake n’ bake is so nice as well…all I have to do today is shop for some work clothes… that’ll only take me an hour or two, and shopping’s far from stressful.
Lately, life’s been moving so fast as well like last week for instance, I received a phone call for an interview which we could only set 2 hours before a boat party for Stoke…which I had to bartend.
So after impressing in the interview I had to rush to the Stoke office, quickly change my suit for short’s and flip-flops, as I had to get two trolleys worth of alcohol from the market for the party….. Then down beers during it. 😉
Often I’m hanging with Stoke employees after work where a gentle drink at the bar turns into a business meeting with someone who finds our company interesting.
I recently discovered a local girl who is buzzing to go work for us after testing out our San Fermin trip…her interview with my boss is today.
Yesterday, I received an email from someone in Granada who mentioned they had over 10 years of experience in marketing and were willing to move to Barcelona saying he would work for us. As he mentioned we’re a rapidly growing company he wanted to be a part of….. I forwarded it to my boss though as I’m in no position to make a call on that one.
Stoke is growing… and fast, during my first month here I was doing much more than I expected as offers and new parties were being established from every direction and I’d find myself doing 3 or more different sorts of tasks in one day.
From basic promoter, writer, negotiator, to an interviewer, flexibility is something you learn and absorb into your daily expectations here…it’s a great experience.
Area Casa is offering me just as much flexibility in their sales team as well, as they’re giving me a personal project to help their website for tourist (week-long stay) apartments grow with my connections and it’s SEO ratings.
But now as I breeze through music genres like reggae, jazz, House and old-school rap, it feels good to finally hot-box my room for the first time in a while…. Something a stoner appreciates.
So as I fade into the tunes I’m completing 100’s of years of Bermudian heritage were you just…. Chill.
San Fermin; a fucked up idea that can only be construed by a drunk and crazy bastard. What I’m referring to of course is the annual Running of the Bulls, held in Pamplona…this year from July 4th-14th.
It’s something I’ve always wanted to do… but I’ve been a crazy bastard for years so it only seems logical. Unfortunately, San Fermin has caused controversy as there are always a few deaths in relation to the event.
But if Pamplona still holds the event its fine with me…. (secret gulp over the safety of my life).
Also I’m certain the motivation of not getting crushed will inspire me to break all of Usain Bolts’ records. But I’m sure the crowds of San Fermin cheering us on will provide the necessary boost for survival.
Plus with Stoke providing a drunken bus ride all the way down there with a BBQ and more drinking once in Pamplona…I wouldn’t be sober enough to fear anything during the run anyway.
As I’ll be dashing around the corner rockin’ the San Fermin kit with a raging bull behind me… take a picture. 🙂
So hop on the Stoke bus to Pamplona!!
If you wanna ride your luck at San Fermin…feel free to join me at stoketravel.com
Sitting in my boiling hot room as Spanish temperatures have been blistering lately… I just thought I’d light one, play some music and write a bit.
Working in a country that is suffering from a banking crisis has been quite the challenge. Roughly 50% of young people here are out of work, and the fact I managed to find a job is something that still bewilders me.
It’s not as though the Spanish don’t want to work…it’s just that there is no work. Protests are held in the streets on a regular basis due to that, although tourism and the nightlife are basically carrying this city afloat at the moment…things have to change… and soon.
The threat of complete economic failure hasn’t scared me even remotely though… although I just plan on being here for the summer. I guess I really came here to in order to appreciate the value of money and struggles of life.
In Bermuda the GDP is abnormally high, and the average working person is paid between US$500 and US$1500 a week, so you never really understand life without money…. until you try to buy real estate.
As I’m always looking for a challenge rather than something boring and predictable I decided to work in Barca… and honestly I find trying to survive here a thrill.
Like I said in ‘Who I am’ some people have described me to be random.
Sharing an apartment with locals has been such a good experience as well… and very different as I’m the only straight person in a house with 2 girls and one other guy.
So whenever La selección (Spanish futbol team) play in the Euros – we’re in the final tomorrow Viva España!!! – I’m watching it with the girls instead of the guys…it’s a funny twist because she knows even more about football tactics than I do sometimes.
They definitely cook more than anyone else I’ve ever lived with…and quality meals too…with a vast array oils and spices every time I cook… I experiment. As a stoner, I love food… due to munchies… and since my mother taught me how to cook as soon as I was able to walk…I’m fuckin lovin it.
Making pastas, hot sandwiches, salads and roasts I’m finding myself preferring to cook at home. It’s cheaper, it’s healthier…. But damn I just love food and that kitchens my lab.
Managing money has been a challenge as well, often I leave 2 of my cards at home to prevent overspending and rely on the cash I have for a night out. It’s smart as well since pickpockets are everywhere in this city.
It’s fucking working too…I’m definitely not buying bottles in a club… but I’m living a damn good bar life. Making connections with bartenders you often get discounts or free shots.
So as I begin my working life in extreme conditions…I just wanna say it beats the shit out of studying for exams.
Now as my munchies have kicked in….I’m gonna make a meal 😉
After splitting 4 joints the previous night I noticed it was time to get up for work the next evening which was…. A boat party.
Picking up a burger cuz I didn’t fully satisfy my munchies, I walk on to the boat to see 30+ hot blondes n’ brunettes waiting on the dock in booty shorts and skimpy tops…. nice…
Providing an extra initiative to get shit ready faster, the boat was fully stacked with girls out numbering men 3-1, as we left on time.
Grabbin’ a beer, the party gets started…. I see people dancin’, drinkin’ and grindin’… and just having a good time … so I think to myself.
“Damn, I love this job… How the hell is this a job???”
Dancin’ as the boat hops over wave after wave, it’s hard to notice the difference between my co-workers and the guests… because everyone is getting smashed.
With white girls who shake their ass better than most black women I know… to our very own ladies man (who tamed 6 dancers from Finland)… I’d say this Stoke crew is something for the record books.
Partying amongst a great blend of wild dancers and wasted youths you find yourself havin’ so much fun you forget your cruisin’ along the coast of Barcelona, Spain.
Possessing sights that can blow your mind away, you can find yourself in awe of its beauty…until one of the girls start gettin’ low right in front of you…. Then any man’s attention would switch over to one thing… ASS!!
With a never-ending flow of alcohol and good tunes you can discover yourself quotin’ lyrics from legendary ganja-smokers like Notorious B.I.G. and Kid Cudi with your umpteenth beer in hand.
Eventually after 2 hours of madness we made it back to port, but things were far from over…. whether the after-party continued in the bar, club or the bedroom, everyone continued to have a stoked time. 😉
Mid-party I remember having a wild thought which was,
“Fuck being good to go to Heaven…. because I’m already there.”
P.S. I’m not entirely sure, but I may have completed all of the above with a dislocated toe… but in a city like Barcelona, you’re never really sober enough to figure it out. Come here and you’ll see. 😉
The tranny, the type of person that you’re not sure whether to call a man or a woman, but simply describes his or herself as “pre-op”. The type of person you try to be nice and accepting to, but just think to yourself… hmmm, they must’ve had daddy issues…
Well I had a very close encounter with one that made me scared to walk down a certain road for the safety of my virgin asshole.
Back in University, we occasionally would go to a Port Olimpic, which offered a casino n’ countless bars and clubs for our wasted entertainment…. And I would often take the short walk home.
Along the way I would always have to pass a small group of tranny prostitutes…I ,being as straight as an arrow… would just walk at pace on the other side of the street to avoid them.
They would occasionally whistle and promote discounts, which didn’t interest me, although surprisingly they seemed to halt a lot of cars in their tracks.
But one day, the queen tranny… at 6 feet in height and 300+ pounds in weight, started howling at me.
I’m stoked off my face and unawares of my surroundings until I hear the deep growly voice that made my spine cringe.
Before I can adjust to a more sober state ‘it’s’ running across the street!! Screaming CHUUPPAA!! CHUUPPAA!! (blowjob)
Shitting myself, I start off in a sprint….or think I did, because in reality I’m so fucked that all I can accomplish is a mazy stumble.
As I hear “it’s” thunder strides come within 10 feet, my brain kick-starts into gear and I set the land speed record to avoid get anally raped…. and charged for it.
manolosway 