Ok... I wrote this as a blog for my myspace n its gone down well, so I figured I'd post it here. Its basically a story of my experiences in Spain three years ago. Enjoy.

 

 

 

The Story of the Que Fuerte

 

 

 

 

 

Well, J has written 3 damn impressive blogs, so I thought id give it a shot with the 1st Spanish exchange. Whether IÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢ll get Kudos or lynching is another matterÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâæ

 

 

 

Note: Firstly, I apologise to any real gods and ask everyone to remember that all religions are true for the given value of truth. Secondly, this is not an exact account of the Spanish exchange, my memories are vague at best and some of the facts may have been changed slightly for a cheap laugh. Finally, to the RosalesÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s, if youÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢re reading this, donÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t for one second think that I didnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t have the best time en tu casa, you know how much I love you guys!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part 1: A brave leap sideways

 

 

 

As I waved to my family as the bus lurched out of the school gates, the reality of what I was doing dawned on me. I had allowed myself to be taken on a two-week exchange trip to Spain, where I would stay with a Spanish family. In their house. On my own.

 

 

 

Oh [cabbage].

 

 

 

We were going. There was no backing out or dodging or putting off or hurriedly changing the subject anymore, it was actually happening. What was I thinking? I didnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t even want to go, I only signed up to stop my mother from harassing me about it. My Spanish was bollocks and I would be on my own.

 

 

 

Well, thatÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s not strictly true, I told myself and looked around the bus as discreetly as possible to see who I knew. Behind me was Dan, Josh and Jamie, who were vague friends from breaks and lunches, with Ku, LozÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s friend in my Spanish class. Then there was Rhi, a girl in my form who I got on OK with. She was clearly an exchange old timer, daughter of the teacher in charge with an exchange partner who came to England once a year. Then there was Liz Radley and Kate Allen, the other two girls in my year. Behind them was an assortment of imposing (to me) older kids. To my front was Jakki Moxon in her trademark flowery dress and an anoraked-up short guy with a faintly worried expression. I was later to discover that he was Mr John ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅThe LockÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

So his name's "How Strong?"

Ha, Serephurus, that was my first thought as well.

 

 

 

Anyway pretty nice story, very detailed. I also spent a summer (or two :anxious:) abroad studying in Spain (Barcelona) where I lived with a Spanish family.

 

 

 

I'm curious, is this entire piece nonfiction?