How I became a member of the IBBA

Map of Costa del Sol

After graduating from the fine arts program in 1986, I decided to take a three month trip to Europe to visit all the museums that held all the paintings I had to study to attain my degree.  It was a trip I would relish (more on that later) but this only explains how I arrived at the Costa del Sol in Spain, not how I became a member of distinction in the International Bum-Biters Association – no small feat I assure you!

This dubious honour was bestowed upon me by a publican who owned a bar in Torremolinos.  From England, Bill and his wife June operated a fun establishment that we called home for three weeks.  I had hooked up with two American girls at the train station in Portugal and as we were going to the same place decided that we would rent a villa with a pool and a gardener while we were there.  As luck would have it there was another English publican who offered us his condo for free as he was going back home to England and all we’d have to pay for was the hydro.  We gave up the villa and pool for a highrise condo on the beach… an easy trade really!

Since the pub was on the way to the beach, we would stop in for a jug of sangria which we took with us whilst we were suntanning and we would return the empty jug at the end of the day.  The hosts were a lot of fun so we often ate there as well and continued our drinking.  One night, Bill bit me in the bum and told me I was now indoctrinated into the exclusive realm of the International Bum Biter’s Association; however, I would not be granted full membership until I had bitten the bum of a complete stranger of the opposite sex who came into the bar.  Being somewhat shy in nature, I didn’t know whether I would be able to do this but coming out of the bathroom one time, there was a gentleman standing at the bar and I just went for it.  Even Bill and June were surprised by this but I hurriedly explained everything to the astonished patron and he good naturedly took it in his stride.  Thank Goodness!

As a member in good standing of the Spanish chapter of the IBBA, I often considered establishing a Canadian division but then I got married and well, had to grow up really!

Just kidding, I’m not sure I will ever do that!

 

 

Ladies Powder Room at Radio City Music Hall

The essence of travel

You may think that travelling is an adventure, a journey to a destination where you can uncover cultures, art and nature that you have never seen before….and it is; however, when you get older there are certain requirements needed when one travels.  For instance, I need to know that the plane trip is under 8 hours as my legs cannot handle the cramping one has to endure for that time period and I do not possess the kind of wealth that would allow me to travel first class.  Secondly, the place I am staying can’t be more than an hour from the airport especially if I am travelling by bus.  And last but most importantly, I need access to a bathroom on a fairly frequent basis.

This is why I don’t like to go to the theatre that much either as I can stream or rent a movie, make my own popcorn, enjoy a glass of wine AND pause the movie anytime I feel the urge to go so why leave the house.  Plus there is nobody behind me to give away the plot or kick the back of my seat not to mention the tall guy in front blocking my view.

When I was in my youth I didn’t worry about finding a bathroom so much as I had greater restraint and we could always pull over to the side of the road and go in the ditch if we needed.  Nowadays, I’m not sure I’d be able to recover from the crouching position.  Below is the toilet for visitors to Napier, New Zealand.  Top of page is one of many powder rooms in the Radio City Music Hall in New York City.  So, you can go to the lavatory in style in certain environments.Napier2012 117