A Little Retail Therapy

Just relaxing and checking out all the local shops within yodel of our hotel. 

Currently I’m sitting in the man-chair section in a Zara store. 

Already been to H&M, and then Zara men. 

Thought while Sarah was looking, I might find some new summer shirts. The ones I brought with me aren’t as wrinkle-free as I’d hoped. Problem is most brands, and therefore most shops don’t quite cater to someone of Sasquatchian proportions. 

My shirts have always needed to be longer than standard, so that they can be tucked in, because I’m what’s described as ‘long in the body’. To be fair, I’m now probably best described as ‘long in the stomach’. 

Tripped over a food court of sorts, down an alley near the hotel. Called El Nacional. 

Had a meal there. Finished with this:

Don’t know if I mentioned it:

On one side of that square roundabout / plaza is another one of Sarah’s favourite department store chain. The David Jones one. I think she might like it more than the one in Barcelona that she fell in love with.

But just as I’m starting to like this place:…

 

At first glance it looks like if you buy a flash bottle of plonk and they’ll give you a flash bag to hold your leg of miss piggy.

Nope.

Looking now at the website, they now sell ham cured and curated by master craftsmen. Gosh.

You can select the victim by where she grew up and what she was fed on. First one I picked on the site was fed on acorns, and has been reduced in price from 753 to 624.75.

EUROS!!!

Are you fucking kidding me???

So it seems that if you buy acorn-fed Miss Piggy’s leg in a posh bag, and get a free bottle of flash plonk.  

Pompous fuckheads!!!??!?!

Clearly there are a lot of porkers hobbling around on crutches, being massaged and reared by the monks of Montserrat, and sung to sleep every night by the resident boys choir.