Final day in Calahonda

Amazing how quickly this time has flown and, simultaneously, how little and so much I have got done. I had every intention of going up to Malaga today, but when the sun rose around the yardarm, I just could not be arsed. So much for the dynamic, can-writer. I rolled over in bed and almost fell out (the monk’s retreat only comes with a single bed) but managed to restabilize myself in time for another 40 minutes’ snoring.
Then I went for a brief stroll and decided that perhaps, after all, what I needed was a nap.

A great day for the napping.

Quick run down to El Zoco to check on laundromat times… I am having another sulk after finding out the cleaning agency wanted to charge 30€ to wash two sets of bedclothes and three towels. So, I told them, in a nice way of course, they could shove it up their arses and I would do it myself. Therefore, before I leave tomorrow, I will be running down to the laundry to wash and dry sheets. I mean, there’s taking the piss and taking the piss.

Now having dinner in La Tabla Belga, saying farewell to Dany and Ingrid, having my final meal of the house speciality (mussels steamed in Ricard) and then contemplating missing the Liverpool game to have an early night.

Such is life….