Well here we are !

Finally arrived at the little airport of Girona pushing what seemed like two tons of luggage. Nodded goodbye and bidded Polish salutations to the the Ryanair steward (who seemed like a very nice boy and happened to be Polish) as we staggered, overloaded off the tarmac. He waved back with a look of complete relief to see the back of us. I think it was the fact that we had bought £16.00 pounds stirling worth of snacks and drinks on board but the kids wanted to pay for it with their piggy-bank money (which, to be fair, I had instructed them to use up before we landed). Anyway, they counted every penny carefully into his hand in coppers which I don't think he appreciated on such a busy flight!

So, there is another tip! Use up all that loose change before you leave the country because it can get quite heavy, you know!

Thanks to our long, holiday in Girona last year we had made so many wonderful Catalan friends and many other contacts. We were bowled over by the emails and 'phone calls we received with offers to pick us up from the airport. Three Catalan families had very kindly offered to meet us. At first, we were reluctant to be a bother or an inconvenience and did not want to put anyone out (which is just so utterly English of us) saying we could get a taxi but our new friends were insistent and not wanting to be inpolite we fired off our flight and arrival details.

So, who, we wondered would be waiting for us on the other side of the gate? With the welcoming party in mind, I quickly nipped into the loos to try and look presentable while Peter and the girls monitored the carousel for our bags. A neon-lit, washed out, pale and pasty hag stared back at me in the mirror and I realised that I needed more than a quick fix (backed up with at least 48 hours of solid sleep) so I decided not to bother - besides I didn't need reminding of the extra two bags I was carrying on my face. I'd seen enough luggage! So, with the triumphant bravado of successful escapees, we trundled through the arrival gates with our loaded trollies with appropriately expectant expressions set in place to meet...
exactly, NO ONE!

We didn't recognise a face, no message, no sign, NADA! Ho hum! shall we wait? shall we 'phone but who? Just as we were contemplating getting a cab, Jordi of Banyoles bounded up to us with his lovely, welcoming smile looking like Summer in his Hawaiian shirt, flip-flops and sporting a rock starish (I'm thinking Eric Clapton - get the picture?) half growth of beard we hadn't seen before. He began embracing Peter and I enthusiastically and brandishing apologies in broken English for being late. He bowed very low respectfully and gently shook the hands of our girls who he had not met before. Huh, I thought, don't worry about being late - you haven't got to know us well yet - we think being on time is the height of bad manners. Let's hope for our sakes this is the Catalan attitude because we simply can't seem to do punctual.

We had come to know Jordi (a very Catalan name) earlier this summer when he had carefully delivered his beloved elder daughter, Clara into our care so she could improve her English. Anyway, as we exited the airport, the rest of Jordi's family were all hiding and jumped out to surprise us all. Their two cars were waiting to deliver us to our apartment. Lots of hugs, kisses and delight for our girls, Kasia & Margaux at seeing the lovely Clara again and a chance for us to meet her Mum, Neus and Julia her younger sister who we had heard so much about.

On arriving at our new home for at least the next year, everyone jumped out of the cars and took our bags up in the lift so it was nice to have some porters for change! David, our landlord was there to meet us. We had stayed in this apartment last Summer and when we were looking for somewhere to live this year the same place had become available again so David offered it to us on a long term let. He obviously felt confident about having us back so we must have behaved ourselves last year! He had already sorted out the internet, 'phones and cable for us so he gave Pete a quick intro. before saying goodbye as he was going on holiday the next day.

Everyone was saying how hot it had been and uncomfortable but the weather had been so extraordinarily unusual at home in the UK that I felt we had mutual understanding of just how hot & humid it had been and us Brits had already become climatised. After all, the Britain is a little island in the middle of the North Sea so when it gets really hot it gets really heavy!

Anyway, when we opened the door to the flat we couldn't believe it! It had been festooned in bunting and loads of balloons! The girls were thrilled and rushed around the rooms checking it all out! Plus the fridge and cupboards had been filled with food, drink including beers and wine. The gorgeous Gisela (who lives in the flat downstairs with her little girl Lola and who we met last year) had spent her lunch hour with Neus stocking up the kitchen and decorating the flat for us. We didn't even ask for supplies to be provided and we were gobsmacked at their kindness. Gisela was still at work but caught up with us later only to be completely insulted when we offered to pay for the shopping (muttering something about it being not the Catalan way to even think about it!) Bless her heart!

So quick drinks all round, lots of chats, laughs and muchas, muchas gracias from us to everyone who then thoughtfully left us to rest with promises of parties and get-togethers in the near future.

The girls climbed into their bunk beds that they had known so well from the year before. Peter and I tried to stay up to have our own little celebration but overwhelmed with tiredness we both collapsed into a deep sleep instead. We didn't even notice that the bed had not yet been made up but I think we would have just as happily zonked-out on a washing line that night.

Well, here we are in our new home. At long last we had arrived.