Marbella: Sun, Fried fish and Lots of Champagne!

As soon as we hopped into the cab that would take us from Malaga Airport to the beachside resort of Marbella- we knew we were in for a good time...The fat bald, sweaty man with the REALLY thick andalusian accent did not come up for breath during the entire 45 minute ride. He talked (and talked and talked and talked....) about EVERYTHING: how hookers pay cab fares, how transvestites like to flirt with him, how all men everywhere cheat and how it's really women that drive their poor men to cheat because they always fake headaches when their husbands want sex...we were dizzy from the nonstop chatter and to make matters worse he happened to be one of those people that needs to make eye-contact while talking- even when driving! Unfortunately, having chosen the seat directly behind him, I watched in horror as he proceeded to adjust the rearview mirror- not to improve his view of the road- but so that we could maintain eye contact throughout the entire conversation! I could only sit and envy melissa as she dozed in and out of consciousness while I had to stare into his eyes and fake laugh throughout the entire ride to make him think I was listening.

Just when Melissa and I were going to point out that his wife's constant sex-induced migraines are probably directly related to his nasty-ass body odor, we arrived at the Gran Hotel Guadalpin! The hotel was amazing! Much nicer than we had expected, and as soon as the bellhop left us alone in our room we reverted to our back-country Mahopac-Cuban selves and ran around in the complimentary hooded bathrobes and slippers laughing and taking pictures while racing to pop open a bottle of barbadillo wine from the minibar accompanied by a fresh can of pringles...we even had a very cute terrace with a fabulous view of the BP gas station next door!

Ok, the view sucked but the room was awesome...

After a day at the beach on Saturday complete with a huge lunch of beer and fried Andalusian fish, we headed back to our lovely room and began beautifying for our big night on the town. Unfortunately my beloved hair dryer decided to die at that moment, and as many of you can probably imagine I wanted to throw myself off the terrace in desperation. Fortunately I somehow manged to control my hair in such a humidity charged environment and we finished glamming ourselves up for the nightly festivities. This was a big night after all, Melissa was unleashing her powerful miniskirt on the unsuspecting inhabitants of Marbella and we had already seen the damage it had inflicted on the Madrileños...

We headed to the hotel terrace to listen to a Cuban band that happend to be playing there that night. Tables had been set up with candles around the illuminated outdoor pool...so romantic and so....RESERVED! All of the tables had reserved signs on them. What a nightmare, our romantic evening was going to be cut short just because we were the only idiots that hadn't called to reserve a table. Like magic, the young maitre'd asks us if we have a reservation, we tell him no, after a fleeting look of concern which I think was more for dramatic emphasis than anything else, he leads us to a lovely table by the entrance. Shocked, we sit down and begin to revel in our good luck when he asks us what we would like to drink. We were still a bit giddy from having snagged such a good table and couldn't decide, so we asked for few minutes to think about it... After those few minutes he returned, but not to take our drink order- he arrived with two glasses of amazing champagne and a bowl filled with chilled strawberries... at this point I begin trying to calculate how many other nights Melissa and I have left to go out to dinner alone before she leaves - if we are managing to do so well in Marbella, there is no telling what we can achieve with her miniskirt in Madrid! If we add Gabi to the mix and head to the airport when we get back maybe we can work on getting free plane tickets somewhere! My mind is racing with possible ways to exploit melissa, her mini and femininity in general- when the food arrives.
As we ate our 2 courses of complimentary appetizers that we never ordered, we realized that the Cuban band we had been so excited to see was really not that good, they were in fact the quietest bunch of Cubans I had ever seen in my life, no energy whatsoever! From my experience I can tell you that Cubans are not quiet, ever. And especially not a Cuban band! There is usually more noise at my parents house during dinner than in a small nightclub and we are only five people! These bland Cubans confused us, and we began an in-depth discussion on whether they were even Cuban at all- they were so lame, maybe they were Dominicans? When suddenly they brought over the fabulous bottle of Moet that Melissa had ordered for my birthday! We sucked it down with dinner while listening to a few more songs and asked our waiter for the check- it was time to head out to the ritzy clubs in Puerto Banus!The check finally arrives and to our shock it comes to a measly 20 euros... did they make a mistake? Do we say something? Do we hope they don't notice? Just then our friend the maitre'd glides over and announces that the 80 euro bottle of champagne is on the house and that they would like to invite us to dessert as well...

"Anything you girls would like- Dessert? Liqueur? Coffee?..."

Of course, never known to be shy and especially not with a few champagnes in me, I blurt out-

"I'll have a vodka tonic! thanks!" and smile ...

Melissa stifles a laugh and orders a rum and coke ....by far one of the BEST dinners ever!






(Melissa in full Marbella beach mode!)