The hostal days....Part 1
Wow first morning in Barci(Australians tend to rename alot of places they go to).Ran into the owner of the Hostal and to this day I still don´t know if she was a he or if he was a she or it was a bit of both,heshe,weird.Decided to take a stroll down to the port to check out the scene and have a look at all these floating palaces I´d heard about.
They say the world is a small place and I pretty much agree with this because as I walked out of the Hostal there were 2 guys behind me and I turned around and realized that I knew them.One of them I went to school with and the other lived in a town close to mine.No fuckin way. Billy and Morgs in Barci, now , let the good times roll.
This was cause for celebration.
The boys where staying two doors down from my room ,they had a large room with a table and chairs and the works.The stereo was in the corner, two guitars, skateboards,snowboards and magazines lay in every corner,this would become the epicentre of the endless fiesta.
Rowan (esponja) was the next member to roll in.We were sinking a few estrellas in the the room when we get a knock on the door.Rowan walks in with his skatie a bag and fifty euros to his name.Reckons he had a job starting the next day.(to this day he´s still doing the same job).
Wasn´t long before the lads lined me up a job working on this huge steel boat repainting the inside.This was all set up by Billy´s brother Dale who was working on this boat.So now we were five
Within the next week two more of morgs mates had rocked up,Shanon and coopsie,and Billies step brother though he´d come to Spain to join the party too.Now we were eight.
Things were really starting to fire up.
They say the world is a small place and I pretty much agree with this because as I walked out of the Hostal there were 2 guys behind me and I turned around and realized that I knew them.One of them I went to school with and the other lived in a town close to mine.No fuckin way. Billy and Morgs in Barci, now , let the good times roll.
This was cause for celebration.
The boys where staying two doors down from my room ,they had a large room with a table and chairs and the works.The stereo was in the corner, two guitars, skateboards,snowboards and magazines lay in every corner,this would become the epicentre of the endless fiesta.
Rowan (esponja) was the next member to roll in.We were sinking a few estrellas in the the room when we get a knock on the door.Rowan walks in with his skatie a bag and fifty euros to his name.Reckons he had a job starting the next day.(to this day he´s still doing the same job).
Wasn´t long before the lads lined me up a job working on this huge steel boat repainting the inside.This was all set up by Billy´s brother Dale who was working on this boat.So now we were five
Within the next week two more of morgs mates had rocked up,Shanon and coopsie,and Billies step brother though he´d come to Spain to join the party too.Now we were eight.
Things were really starting to fire up.
Barcelona ole´
Where was I, ah yes , woke up spralled across 5 seats just before landing in singapore with a dolor de la cabeza que te cagas. I had to change planes in singapore so I had 3 hours to kill.Singapore is one of my favorite airports not only do they have free internet,cheap merchandise and a smoking balcony full of sunflowers (outside the terminal) there´s also a cinema where you can watch whatever for, you got it, nothing.
I didn´t know smoking flights still existed but some how I landed a seat in the smoking section during the flight to england.At first I thought fuck this aint bad but 8 hours into the flight ;after i´d turned green at the gills,maybe it wasn´t the best option.
Landing at heathrow airport I was informed that it was 4 degrees outside(fuck me and people live here).I strolled up to the immigration only to be told by the woman at the desk that she didn´t believe me that I was going to spain."How do I know that you´re not going to leave the airport and try to work here illegaly" she said.I replied "Have you realized the fucking temperature outside, I´m going to Spain you know sunny spain, the rain in spain stays on the plane,south of France where all you pommies(ingleses)go because it´s to COLD in your country".Well somehow this worked and I was through.Now I just have to find this EZyjet airline and I´m styling all the way to Spain. Ezyjet stands for Cattle class A1(clase borreguera).Myself being 6 foot 4,had to sit with my knees around my ears(uncomfortable but cheap).
I met a guy at Heathrow airport,whilst passing time with my good friend Captain Morgan,and he said I could bum a lift with his boss in Barcelona to wherever I was going.Sounds good but.......
So I jump into this car with this guy and his boss and tell them that I want to go toPlaÇa Cataluña.20 minutes later he drops me off in a plaÇa and says "I think placa Cataluña is near here,not far".
Not far in Australian english can mean either 1 kilometre up to 100 kilometres,so I was left with some doubt.Even more when I discovered I was in Placa España not even close to Placa Cataluña.So I decided to walk to get to know the city a bit.40 minutes later I arrived in Placa Cataluña.Called my mate who worked on the boats to come meet me at the bottom of the Rambla Cataluña and he showed me the hostal where I would call home for the next three months.
2 days after leaving my home town I was in Spain.
I didn´t know smoking flights still existed but some how I landed a seat in the smoking section during the flight to england.At first I thought fuck this aint bad but 8 hours into the flight ;after i´d turned green at the gills,maybe it wasn´t the best option.
Landing at heathrow airport I was informed that it was 4 degrees outside(fuck me and people live here).I strolled up to the immigration only to be told by the woman at the desk that she didn´t believe me that I was going to spain."How do I know that you´re not going to leave the airport and try to work here illegaly" she said.I replied "Have you realized the fucking temperature outside, I´m going to Spain you know sunny spain, the rain in spain stays on the plane,south of France where all you pommies(ingleses)go because it´s to COLD in your country".Well somehow this worked and I was through.Now I just have to find this EZyjet airline and I´m styling all the way to Spain. Ezyjet stands for Cattle class A1(clase borreguera).Myself being 6 foot 4,had to sit with my knees around my ears(uncomfortable but cheap).
I met a guy at Heathrow airport,whilst passing time with my good friend Captain Morgan,and he said I could bum a lift with his boss in Barcelona to wherever I was going.Sounds good but.......
So I jump into this car with this guy and his boss and tell them that I want to go toPlaÇa Cataluña.20 minutes later he drops me off in a plaÇa and says "I think placa Cataluña is near here,not far".
Not far in Australian english can mean either 1 kilometre up to 100 kilometres,so I was left with some doubt.Even more when I discovered I was in Placa España not even close to Placa Cataluña.So I decided to walk to get to know the city a bit.40 minutes later I arrived in Placa Cataluña.Called my mate who worked on the boats to come meet me at the bottom of the Rambla Cataluña and he showed me the hostal where I would call home for the next three months.
2 days after leaving my home town I was in Spain.
The journey to Spain part one:The decision
Seven seasons working on the ocean gives one time to think. I was happy with the life style I was living ,working hard for seven and a half months of the year to save enough cash to fund the next surf adventure. We only worked from 3am till around 1pm so there was plenty of time to go surfing, fishing , waterskiing, scuba diving or just sit on the beach watching the surf roll in. It´s really amazing how a split second decision can change your life.
April 9th 2002 It was a hot sunny day very little breeze blue skies and it looked as if we were heading for a good catch for the day.We were setting traps in the shallows along yellow cliffs when I thought to myself; fuck it I´m going to spain.The other deckhand looked at me and said with a chuckle "can´t be anyworse than this".
My mate at the flight agency said " I gotto put you on a waiting list because the flights are full.About an hour later he called back and said can you go tommorow "yeah no worries".So that was it I packed my shit dropped it at the oldies place(my parents farm)and was on the next flight to Spain.
Had to fly via Bali,singapore,gatwick and then Barcelona.
First stop Indo(Indonesia bali).Found some old rupiah laying around in my bag ,managed to bartar the taxi driver down to 20 000 rupiah(about 2 euros ,every little bit counts especially when your currency isn´t worth jack shit in Europe).He dropped me off on poppies lane 2 ,centre of Kuta.There´s a losman(hostal in Indonesian) I always stay at when in Kuta Okie House.Indonesian people are some of the most friendly people I´ve ever met and they never forget a face or the name that goes with it.After saying gday (hello Australian slang)to the staff I left my bag in storage and strolled on down to the beach.I´ve made several close indonesian friends over the years I´ve been coming here and they´re always good for a laugh.
That night there was a party at Okie house which saw me being the last one to get on the plane and only remembering that I had to catch a plane,when I looked at my watch to see that the plane would leave in 1 hour and 10 minutes, and I was still in the night club with a litrona of Bintang in my hand.
Great start to the adventure!
April 9th 2002 It was a hot sunny day very little breeze blue skies and it looked as if we were heading for a good catch for the day.We were setting traps in the shallows along yellow cliffs when I thought to myself; fuck it I´m going to spain.The other deckhand looked at me and said with a chuckle "can´t be anyworse than this".
My mate at the flight agency said " I gotto put you on a waiting list because the flights are full.About an hour later he called back and said can you go tommorow "yeah no worries".So that was it I packed my shit dropped it at the oldies place(my parents farm)and was on the next flight to Spain.
Had to fly via Bali,singapore,gatwick and then Barcelona.
First stop Indo(Indonesia bali).Found some old rupiah laying around in my bag ,managed to bartar the taxi driver down to 20 000 rupiah(about 2 euros ,every little bit counts especially when your currency isn´t worth jack shit in Europe).He dropped me off on poppies lane 2 ,centre of Kuta.There´s a losman(hostal in Indonesian) I always stay at when in Kuta Okie House.Indonesian people are some of the most friendly people I´ve ever met and they never forget a face or the name that goes with it.After saying gday (hello Australian slang)to the staff I left my bag in storage and strolled on down to the beach.I´ve made several close indonesian friends over the years I´ve been coming here and they´re always good for a laugh.
That night there was a party at Okie house which saw me being the last one to get on the plane and only remembering that I had to catch a plane,when I looked at my watch to see that the plane would leave in 1 hour and 10 minutes, and I was still in the night club with a litrona of Bintang in my hand.
Great start to the adventure!
Trial post.
Name: Craig. (Warning: don't believe everything you read on the internet)
Job: Boat skipper and Barcelona's superhero. (it's a tough world).
Age: twenty-something.
Mission: gut-spilling on screen.
Is this working yet?
Job: Boat skipper and Barcelona's superhero. (it's a tough world).
Age: twenty-something.
Mission: gut-spilling on screen.
Is this working yet?