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Marbella is not a backpacking destination. Not in the slightest.
We arrived, put our stuff down and immediately met up with Rachel, one of Zara's friends from when she lived in England. It didn't take long to realize that we weren't in Spain at all, more like Little England. Absolutely everyone was British in Marbella, to the point that after just a few days we began to pick up the accent. If we stayed a week we'd be speaking like the queen. Still, I refuse to either call my pants trousers nor my board shorts swimming trunks. We spent our time back and forth between Rachel's family's beautiful apartment in a amazing complex, also full of Brits.
The Jewish community being as tight as it is, Zac managed to find a relative amongst the crowd of North Londoners. I also managed to meet most of Zara's old friends which was fun.
By day we did absolutely nothing by the pool, and found it tiring somehow. I did however use the complex's gym next to a botoxed mum who was clearly paying her personal training to feel like she is exercising while doing nothing at all. He literally moved her limbs for her at times. We also chimed in to one kid's 13th birthday, eventually monopolizing the giant inflatable slide into the water brought in for the occasion.
By night we ventured down to the port which was the clubbing district where we snuck onto 1000 Euro tables bought by wealth 15 year olds who got in by bribing the bouncers. Everyone at the port was British too and for some reason everywhere we went we were the oldest people there, but like in "Skins" young Brits know how to party. We had a messy night or two fueled by a cocktail which tasted oddly of tuna, and 4 euro bottles of vodka from Carrefoure. On a tangent for a minute, this Carrefoure was the most gigantic, extensive and cheap supermarket ever, where I bought a kilo of bananas for 79 cents (a price which much seem surreal to those in Australia) and an awesome spiderman backpack to replace my tattered Fitness First one. Back to the night out, my final night ended quite badly. I ended up overdoing it a bit, and borrowing some British slang if I may, I got a bit lashed, chundered everywhere and ended up literally wearing a lashmina (see the YouTube video "Gap Yah"). The next day I woke up covered in towels with a bunch of bins next to the bed.
Now that you're all feeling nice and hungry, I'll talk about Mr.Wok the all you can eat asian restaurant for 13 Euros we ate at two nights out of three (although it only stayed down one night). This place was truly my heaven, everything imaginable, three courses, including steak and sashimi. Wow. The second night I went with a guy named Daniel who showed me how to make the buffet into a contest like his rugby team do in England. I won.
And that was Marbella.
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