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I pekos pantxinet Miarritze-London 49 Euro. I used the company phone to make an international call to a mate living in London. �No bother, I don�t mind crashing out on the sofa�. Right, I�ve got somewhere to stay. A weekend in London. All I have to do now is trick the quare-one into dropping me off at the airport on Friday.�Thanks a million for bringing me, chicken, a kiss? sure, of course, I�ll be back on Sunday night, you will pick me up, won�t you? Great, yeah, of course I�ll behave myself�. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard the AE-702 flight... �Miss Airhostess, a gin and tonic, please...�. A hour behind. Just like in The Canaries. I�ll jump on a bus to the centre. Right, second floor, door B. Here we are. The doorbell rings out Yesterday by the Beatles. The English are just so English. �Howya there Nestor! Long time, no see... Yeah, don�t worry, I�m only staying for the weekend. I won�t get under your feet (your girlfriend Jennifer is an absolute pain in the hole by the way). What am I here for? I�m here to see you two. What do you mean you don�t believe me!? I�m not surprised... Well, the truth is I�m here to eat. A gastronomic weekend, old boy!�I dump my bag in the corner and scramble out before the Wicked Witch of the West Jennifer gets back. I�m here for a gastronomic weekend as I mentioned before, but I haven�t made any set plans. I shall venture where my eyes and nose drag me. I�m wandering around like the protagonist of Ramon Saizarbitoria�s Rossetti�s obsessions, but I have no interest in Victoria, the museums or the graveyards. I�m on the hunt for the restaurants in Chinatown, Soho and up Covent Garden way. I avoid all those pompous expensive joints mentioned in the guide books and walk into the places that spring up before my eyes and belly in whatever street I happen to be in. I find myself in Greek, Turkish, Japanese, Argentinean, Moroccan, German, Vietnamese, Libyan, Caribbean, Italian, Brazilian and Ethiopian food parlours enjoying delights like tajine, sashimi, provoleta, kib-Bi naye, musaka, feijoada, nem ran and funghi ripieni. I�ve had a long and tasty Saturday. The chance to taste every type of world gastronomy in just the one place is both incredible and frightening at the same time. Globalisation. A potpourri of races. Homologation. Alienation. Enough! No more beer for me! It�s three in the morning. Let�s see if I can get into the apartment without making any noise. They�ve left an eiderdown on the sofa for me. What a nice thought. I�ll be in no hurry to get up tomorrow I can tell you. I�ll just see what�s on the telly. Jaysus! Sucko-fucko porn TV!�and you weren�t very long sticking your head up there, were you? You little hoor you. Haul myself into a handy position, strangle yer man and off back to sleep. Uhmmm, what if the Wicked Witch showed up now? Uhmmmm, ahhhhh... fuck! How will I clean this mess up? My jocks are here somewhere... Heathrow... These big airports are bloody gorgeous. All the same, I don�t have time to try the airport grub. I�m late and I still don�t know which boarding gate I have to go through. �Biarritz Gate A 18�. Fuck! �Last call�... �Welcome to flight BA 706.� Phew! Just made it. I need a little something after that emergency mind you.�Excuse me... may I have a gin and tonic, please?...�
