The (don't) travel agency

So here I am. Me. Oh yes. Julio the Wanderer. Walking down the street all big and fat and coming into a very popular travel agency in Huelva. A couple of street musicians are preparing themselves for playing something just by the door. The travel agency is in a very crowded, commercial street, downtown Huelva. And I feel myself rather optimistic as I come through the agency's door and the musicians begin to perpetrate "Four Seasons" of Vivaldi. Spring, I think. 

The bell rattles as I negotiate the stairs and open the door. There are some people already inside, so I take a seat and wait. Here is what I see around me. Two clerks are attending customers, and both are busy. One, a middle-aged woman, is indeed busy. She's showing a whole family some traveling options and hotels for the Costa del Sol beaches. Right now, one of the girls, the eldest daughter, is saying she wants to travel very very far, to another country. I can't avoid a beatific smile. The other clerk is a man. He's just finished with a customer and another one steps ahead. Outside, a spring sun shines gently warming the city. Isn't it a great day for planning a travel? 

As I've decided to tell you my experiences in this blog, I wrote down some notes. Here they are.

18:09 Seated inside the (insert name here) travel agency. So anxious!

18:23 Nobody moves. Not so anxious now. Clerks still with the same people. The family is now discussing options and prices in front of everybody. Musicians outside playing 'The fly of the bumblebee'

18:35 I take out my cell. Then I think what I'm going to do with it. I decide to play 'Clash of Something' -if you want to see your game's name here, I'm open to talk about my fee.

18:37 Lost my first match.

18:38 Lost my second match.

18:38 Lost my third match. WTF?

18:39 Winning my fourth match, but the connection brokes.

18:42 Lost my fifth match.

18:43 My cell switches off because it decides its battery is too low and I'm playing too bad.

18:43 I slowly and delicately put my cell inside my pocket. Then, I sigh.

18:52. The same family still seated with the middle-aged clerk. The musicidians outside now attack 'Please don't go', and apparently there are no survivors.

19:03 Sigh.

19:07 Yawn.

19:09 The eldest girl in the family states again she wants to go very very far. I want her to go very very far, too. Oh, please, let them go. I look at the other customers in the store. An aged woman glances at me, sympathetic. Yes, dear, we all want you to go.

19:10 I'm going to kill someone. One of the adults in the family asks the clerk about going to Punta Cana. Musicians outside also wants to kill people playing the 'Psicosis' main soundtrack. Yes. The bath killing sequence one. I wonder if they're reading my mind. As an answer, they start playing 'Jaw's' main theme. 

19:16 The mind-readers musicians now play a Requiem, nor I remember nor I care whose one.

19:28 One of the clerks -not the woman, beacause she's having so much fun- finishes with his customer. I'm about to step to his desk, but suddenly he steps out of the office and starts talking to his cell. I take out mine, but then I remember it has no battery. Delicately and slowly, I put it in my pocket again. I think of when life was better and I was younger, before I came into this forsaken travel agency. I sigh. Again.

19:32 Finnally the family stands and prepare to go. Emotional level inside the store boils. The other customers noisily breath and smile. Musicians outside play Mendelssohn's 'Midsummer Night's Dream'. Life is great and shinny again as I stand and happily walk to the clerk woman's desk. I sit. She smiles to me. I smile to her.

Finnally, I'm able to tell the clerk what I need. You now, travelling to Scarborough this summer. Conversation goes, more or less, as follows.

Clerk. 'Don't you need me to book an hotel?' 

Me. 'No'. 

Clerk. 'You just want me to solve the travel?' 

Me. 'Yes'. 

Clerk. She tips in her computer. She frowns. 'Isn't there an airport at Scarborough?' 

Me. 'Don't think so'

Clerk. 'Do you know what's Scarborough's nearest airport?' 

Me. 'No, Manchester's I think', but who's the travel agent here?

Clerk. 'Look, here we can't solve your travel from the airport to Scarborough. The only thing I can do is book you a flight to and from Manchester. But after that you're on your own'

Me. 'You can't manage my whole travel'

Clerk. 'No, we can't'

Me. 'But this is a travel agency.'

Clerk. 'Indeed, it is. But we only can sell you a travel+hotel full pack, or help you booking your flight'

Me. 'But I could do that from my house. what's the point in doing it here?'

Clerk. 'The point is you wait an hour and a half and pay 40€ more for something you could have done from your house' and she smiles.

Slowly and delicately and POLITELY I say thank you and farewell and step out to the street. The... wonderful... musicicicians are playing Tchaikovsky's 'Pathètique'. I put on my sun glasses. Sigh. Walk.

Scarborough: here I go!

 Hello to you all!

My name is Julio Monge. For those of you who doesn't know a bit about me, here's some basic info. I'm a 38 y.o. Social Science teacher in Spain. I work in a little pretty seaside town in the province of Huelva, southern Spain, very near to the Portuguese border. I put my life in the line every day trying to teach History, Geography and English to those big brained bags full of hormones we usually call secondary students. As I really have so much fun with my job, I reluctantly jumped straight with both feets into the opportunity to go as far away as I can. Which, in this case, is the city of Scarborough, in the United Kingdom.

The idea is to (try to) improve my teaching skills and my command in English. I also intend making new contacts and share experiences with workmates from all over the E.U. Hopefully, I will also be able to have a look at how other European educative systems deal with the kind of problem we deal with in my school, like students getting asleep while I try to get inside their heads interesting historical stuff. Yes, it is interesting stuff. 

During the weeks to come I'm going to tell you a tale. The tale of a poor and provincial Spanish teacher travelling to the very cosmopolitan, and a little bit turbulent right now, United Kingdom of Great Britain and North Ireland. Well, nothing new here, all Europe is a little bit in turmoil right now, isn't it.

But I need your help. As I like to prepare things in advance, I'm preparing a "talk list" so I have some prepared topics to talk about when I arrive in England, so I can make a lot of friends over there. The list, as for now, is as follows:

Topic 1. Touching the Rock. No, really, couldn't we share Gibraltar as goods kids? Kind of hundred years shifts. No?

Topic 2. Brexit, theory and practice of what the hell are you going to do. Now, seriously, what the hell are you going to do? Better together, don't you remember? We're going to miss you.

Topic 3. Anglo-Spanish shared experiences. Let's talk about all those battles we fought together and how many limbs did we lose to each other. Yes, I've said together. Well, you know, we were on the same battlefield. Sometimes even at the same time.

Topic 4. Scottish Gambit; how to play it. But I have to be careful as I can get into a dreadful Catalonian Defense. If so, I plan a bold Irish Counter-Attack.

Would you like to suggest me more topics for my talk list? You now, the kind of topics that will keep me away from problems? Like if you please, comment if you dare!