The mystery of the missing residency card

A note on white stockings: Today on the way to the bank, I saw a woman strutting around with very sheer white stockings with a spirally pattern. She looked like she had some weird skin disease on her untanned legs. Does anyone really think walking around dressed as a skin disease is attractive? It's like people who wear skin coloured tight clothing- it just makes them look naked. Not nice.

Anyway, back to my residency card. I wrote a post back in April about the lack thereof and two weeks ago, I finally discovered what happened to it. I went to the Foreigners' Office (the 'fo I like to call it and yes it does sound, quite appropriately, like you should add a 'mo' at the beginning of it) to renew the card because you need to do it every year. The guy at the office, who was quite nice, asked me for my old one so he could photocopy it, to which I replied that I never received it.

He looked at me horrified and asked 'But what did you do when the police stopped you in the street?'

'The police, um, have never stopped me in the street.'

He scurried away to the back office and presently returned with an envelope and his manager/senior. Apparently they'd sent it to the wrong address because back in 2006, more than two years ago, I lived in the same street, but at a different number and they never bothered to check if I'd changed address. Which I had, and which I'd written on the form. And the kind person who lived at my old address had returned the letter to sender. And the manager/senior had the gall to ask my what I was so busy with that I hadn't bothered to come in to check the status of my card. To which I indignantly replied that I'd been several times and every time, they'd told me there was a delay and it would be ready soon. And by then it was almost time to renew my card anyway, so there was no point.

The woman was like 'Well, we sent it to you. Look, here's the date stamp.' Obviously it doesn't matter that they sent it to the wrong address. They could send it to Mongolia and it would be my fault if I didn't receive it.

So. I am now awaiting my renewed card. Fingers crossed for that one.

PS The good news is, you need to pay an admin fee on the pickup of the card and since I never picked it up, I didn't have to pay it.

End of holiday (for this month)

The parents left on Saturday for Amsterdam and Beza and I went to see them off.

Then to cheer me up, we went to my second hand bookshop in Madrid and I bought a few cheap books and felt better. I'll see my parents again in a few weeks anyway. But I still felt a bit sad, after spending a month with them travelling around Europe.

I think we had the most fun in Slovenia, which was as breath-taking as it was back in 2006, with the people still as open and friendly, and in Spain doing the Camino de Santiago (although Mum had a few problems with her knees). (Photo: Lake Bled, Slovenia, in a rowboat we hired)

Italy was definitely nowhere near as good as it's hyped up to be. I've been there three or four times now and I'm sorry to say every time it strikes me more as a country that's getting left behind. Yes, there's beautiful architecture, art, scenery and maybe twenty, thirty years ago, it was the best option on the country-to-visit list, but now that we can go to places not so accessible a few decades ago, with equally beautiful things to see and people more culturally interesting, why go there?

But then again, I've never been particularly interested in Italy and I've never really understood the people who are. I blame the Super Mario brothers who have cheapened the image of Italians to pizza-making moustachioed men that say 'Mamma mia!' with their over-exaggerated accent.

It's been a bit exhausting so much travelling. We hired a car in Italy, which made going around Tuscany a lot easier and also one in Spain so after arriving in Santiago, we popped over to Porto and

I learnt how to drive a manual car on the wrong side of the road. (Photo: Arriving in Santiago)

Bit stressful, driving in Spain. I killed the battery about five times on my first attempt to start the car and in the cities, I panicked a little with all the cars behind me and kept flicking on the windscreen wipers instead of the indicator lights.

In Porto, we went to the beach and I now know why beaches in Portugal are not famous. I've swum in cold oceans before, but here, after two minutes you really have to get out because it doesn't matter how fast you move, you still freeze.

We've had a lot of luck, travelling around in Spain. When we stopped over in Vigo, it was on the day they had som huge festival, with aerial displays and activities at the beach, so we had a look. My dad reminded me of a 5 year old boy, he was so mesmerised by the planes doing loop-the-loops. And when we stopped in Llanes, it was the day they brought their saint down from the hilltop so we got to see the procession and people dressed up in funny costumes. (Photo: Luther with a plate of snails in Llanes)

Now I'm just floating around Logroño, with nothing much to do. I've gone to the gym, I've looked at flats, I've eaten and drunk and read and slept. Been very relaxing. Fingers crossed, we'll be able to move in somewhere by the 1st August.

Back on the camino

When we arrived back in Spain, in Barcelona last Sunday, I nearly cried with joy. And when I arrived in Logroño and Beza was waiting at the bus station, I nearly wept for joy again.

I think my love of Spain is infectious. My parents are completely in agreement that Spain is ten times more beautiful than Italy, the food is way better (and more importantly they don't rip you off by making you pay for bread or service), the people are heaps friendlier and Italian ham has nothing on Spanish ham. And if anyone disagrees, they've obviously never tried good Spanish ham. Even the coffee is much better and everything is cheaper.

We're now on the Camino de Santiago, and will arrive in Santiago tomorrow. Looking forward to seeing what the hype is about.