Whoah! Back to the islands
Whoah! We're going to Ibiza
Whoah! We're gonna have a party
Whoah! In the Mediterranean Sea
Actually we really are...
This is what has been consuming my time and my head space lately.
It all started about a month ago when Zume ventured to ask "Hey, why don't we go to Spain for the summer?" Asking me a question like that equates to asking me if I would like some ice cream - I am NEVER going to say no.
In no time we were on the phone to the travel agent and writing a list of the places we wanted to go.
In true over zealous style, I had listed every exotic and sexy Mediterranean beach on the planet as a place to go. But we have since chopped in down a little.
At the risk of sounding like an annoying bragging spoilt brat I am going to give a run down of our summer journey.
London - Paris (to ride our bikes through the streets of gay pari and eat creme brulee at Amelie's cafe in Monmatre) - Barcelona (to be pickpocketed and see if Zara clothes really are cheaper there) - Ibiza (to party it up with celebs, djs and the largest population of pimple faced, alchohol intolerant, barely out of their teens brits) - Venice (to see what a real gondola looks like) - Rome (to shop like a freak and decide whether or not it was built in a day) - Athens and the Greek Ialands Santorini, Mykonos and Paros (to chill and soak it up before heading back to Tokyo)
So here's the thing, we have less than two months before we leave and we need to learn french, spanish, italian and greek.
So far I have progressed to a level where I can ask for a Camembert sandwich in French, I can ask where the toilet or beach is in spanish (while being aware of the pickpoketers) and I can barely leave anywhere now without squealing arrivederci, blowing kisses and waving like I am hanging off the side of a luxury sea liner ready to depart on the trip of a life time. As for greek, well at this stage I am ignorantly hoping sign language will suffice.
All language assisstance is greatly appreciated - please help!
