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Posts Tagged ‘gran canaria’

  1. Cold dead eyes

    November 20, 2009 by superlative

    I feel like I haven’t been blogging so much lately about things that are actually going on in my life. That’s partly because I haven’t been doing that many things out of the ordinary, and partly because my Mum hasn’t been quite as mental as usual. She’s still mental of course, and she has her moments, but nothing has caused her to have a major freakout for a little while.

    So rather than write another review of something I’ve seen on the television, I thought I’d write a little bit about one of the places I went to while on holiday in Gran Canaria instead. I don’t know how it managed to slip my mind in my original post about our holiday – perhaps it didn’t slip it at all, and just buried itself as deeply as possible in my brain, hoping never to be recalled.
    The place was called the Basement Club, and it’s a sex club. It’s more than that actually, it’s a whole sex resort accommodation thing, much like the set of bungalows we stayed at but with a rather different ‘anything goes’ kind of ethos. You can spend your whole holiday staying there if you want to.
    It wasn’t my idea to go to the Basement Club (I know you won’t believe me), but it was our first night there and one of the staff of Club Mancha was out with us and offered to show us some places we hadn’t been before. I should have realised at that point that there was probably a very good reason why we hadn’t been to them before, but alas the considerable amounts of vodka I was pouring down my face and the 13 hours travelling that day impaired my judgement.
    I’ve been in darkrooms before, lots of bars and clubs in Gran Canaria have them, and although they’re not really my thing they’re usually OK for a quick skirt round and then escape into the bar area trying not to laugh while hissing to your friends “Oh my god, did you see what that man was doing to that other man? He looked like my Dad!”
    So when the Club Mancha man said they were having a sex party at the Basement Club that night and did we want to pop in there “just for a quick drink to see”, I thought it couldn’t be that bad, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.
    Actually yes it was that bad, and not for the reasons I was expecting. First of all, I think ‘sex party’ was a rather grand term for what it actually was. I was expecting some kind of porno-esque scene replete with tanned bodies and funky guitar music in the background. In fact, what I got was a group of about a dozen men, mostly in leather kilts and waistcoats, standing around a pool and bar area and not talking to each other. None of them were my type at all, but as they were all of a similar look I suppose they might have been each others’ types, so… good for them I suppose. There was high energy club music playing, and a definite feeling of “is this a sex party? are we meant to be having sex? well I’m not starting, someone else can start, I’m going to stand here and wait.”
    It reeked in there despite being outdoors, possibly the result of a previous sex party or some problem with their drains, and was pretty much one of the least sexy places I’ve ever been. And the men, oh the men. They just looked so SAD. Not sad as in trainspotting sad, sad as in unhappy. They had lifeless dead zombie eyes that roamed around looking for some sort of connection with another person and not finding any. And if they weren’t sad they looked angry, although that might not have been helped by me and my friends standing in the middle talking and laughing and generally not taking the this-is-meant-to-be-sexy thing very seriously.
    In the end two men shuffled close enough together that each took it as sign the other may be vaguely interested in them, and they started doing something in the corner. The other kilties were inexorably drawn over like moths to a physical affection flame and decided to cluster around them in silence, and that was when we decided we’d had enough and wanted to go.
    It was all so serious, and moody, and angry, and silent. I thought sex was supposed to be fun, and you might even be able to laugh at times during it (although laughing at the moment your partner drops his trousers is possibly not helpful). I couldn’t see anything to enjoy there at all, and even though I felt maybe it’s just not my thing, none of the other men seemed to be enjoying themselves either.
    I don’t know, maybe I missed the point or something, but it left me feeling rather sorry for them. I know that’s hideously patronising, and I don’t really mean it quite like that, but if they look that angry and sad when they’re having fun, fuck knows what they look like the rest of the time.
    It was an experience anyway. Not one I’d repeat in a hurry, but an experience nonetheless. Am I being terribly narrow-minded? I don’t think I am really, most narrow-minded people don’t tend to go into sex clubs in the first place. And I don’t mind if that’s what the people in there want to do, that’s up to them. They weren’t hurting anyone. They had a rack thing you could tie someone up on if you wanted, I suppose you could hurt someone on that, but I’m almost certain that’s normally used in consensual circumstances. I’d be interested to know what their clients get from it anyway, because all it really gave me was the feeling I needed to take a shower.

  2. Sun, vodka, boys and insects

    November 2, 2009 by superlative

    I had a lovely time in Gran Canaria, and the weather did indeed stay nice for us. It was closer to 80 degrees sometimes I think, so I was even grateful for the bit of cloud we had towards the end of the week.

    We were only there for five days, but to be honest that was quite enough for me. It’s a rare occasion now that I’d want to go out two nights in a row, so going out five nights in a row was quite a struggle for me. Thank goodness all I had to do in the daytime afterwards was lay on a plastic sun lounger in my skimpies for hours in end (see photo).
    For those of you who haven’t been to Gran Canaria before, it really is your basic sun and booze holiday. There’s not actually that much else to do there, although you can hire a car and go inland if you want to, which we’ve done in previous years. But all we did this time was get up late, sunbathe, go out for dinner at reasonably priced restaurants where you have to sit on patio furniture, drink vodka from the Spar, and then go out bar hopping around the Yumbo Centre. It was great. The only thing that could have been improved really was that there weren’t that many fit boys there this year. There were some, mostly fit waiters, but I think some people have been put off by how expensive the euro is right now. Plus of course it was half term, and what kind of fool goes on holiday in half term unless they have to? Such is my lot as the wife of a teacher.
    Oh yes, and the other thing that could have been improved was that they could have put a tent over the whole island and fumigated it before we arrived. I got SO many mosquito bites! I had about 20 in the end, and some of them have only just gone down. So with them, plus the cockroaches who occasionally scuttle across your bungalow floor, I’d had quite enough of insects by the time we left.
    Our accommodation was nice, we stayed at Club Mancha which is right by the Yumbo Centre where all the gay bars are. It’s a small complex of about 12 bungalows around a pool. The staff there were really friendly, and I couldn’t fault it really. I’d definitely go there again, but having been to Gran Canaria about four times now I think maybe we should try another destination next time we go away.
    I was exhausted by the time we got home from all the going out, so it is actually sort of nice to be back at work where I can sit down all day and drink tea. I’ve got a bit of tan but not loads as I didn’t want to burn, but at least it has given me a bit of colour for the winter. Chris, of course, has turned into a sub-saharan African again because he tans really quickly, so he’ll probably still be tanned long after mine has faded. It’s a shame I can’t really pull of Nicole Kidman-esque pale beauty, it would be so much easier for me! I just go pink in the sun. No danger of that though now that I’m back. Still, Christmas is just around the corner, so I shall look forward to that now instead.

  3. Fun fun fun in the sun sun sun with a cold cold cold

    October 19, 2009 by superlative

    It’s not long now until I’m off on holiday to Gran Canaria – five days in fact – and I’m really looking forward to it. It’s 75 degrees out there at the moment, and although there is a bit of cloud around I’m hoping it’s going to be nice enough to spend most of it lazing by the pool.

    Unfortunately, at the moment I am ill with a cold, and so is Chris, and so is one of the friends we’re going with. Which is quite a pain really, as I don’t particularly relish the prospect of travelling when I’m feeling crappy. It’s only Monday though and I’ve been ill since last Thursday, so I’m hoping it will be long gone by Saturday. I’ve eaten 13 satsumas in 5 days too, so that’s got to have helped hasn’t it?

    For a little while I felt guilty at the thought I might be on a plane with a virus and give it to other people. Then however, this was overridden by the worry that there might be people on the plane with worse viruses (i.e. swine flu) who might give those to me! So I suddenly got quite irrationally twitchy that I’ll get laid up in a random Spanish health centre with swine flu and miss all of my holiday.
    BUT I’ve just looked up some details on air travel, and it seemed to say you’re no more at risk on a plane on a short flight that you would be on a bus or train, unless you end up sitting next to someone who is coughing and sneezing. So I’ll probably be OK and I’m going to stop panicking.
    Now all I need is for the stupid AussieBums I ordered to arrive before Saturday – it’s been six weeks now and no sign of them. Typical. I just know they’ll turn up the Monday after we leave, and will be waiting all smugly in my post box when we get back.