Hotel Bookings and the Harrassment of Strangers


Hola! Remember about 3 hours ago when I told you to expect more posts? I'm not going to disappoint you, kind readers. Here's another riveting installment of 'Rebecca "Socially Awkward" Pollard blunders through her preparation for a year in Spain'.

Anyway, I'm going to Spain with my Dad. Not forever, he's coming out for a week with me because I can't function on my own (well, I can, but I'm not going to deny help when looking for a flat), and, as I'm moving to Spain without anywhere to live at first, a hotel had to be booked. To a normal person, the booking of a hotel can be done in a matter of minutes whereas for me and Dad, it has truly taken about two weeks. Well, I say two weeks, what I mean is me sitting down at my laptop two weeks ago and completely forgetting why I actually went on it, then going on facebook/tumblr/twitter. It was only on Sunday when my Dad said 'right, shall we book a hotel today?' that I actually started looking. And look I did; he came home from work tonight and I presented him with a list of hotels within 4 miles of where I'm hoping to live, he presented me with the name of one. After almost two hours of staring at the computer screen saying 'well, this one doesn't say the wifi's free but then the other one doesn't have  parking...' we finally settled on one. And of course it was the one Dad had seen in the first place. But then again, I think they do cake and tortillas for breakfast. All my favourite things in one place. (Cake and tortillas, and also CAKE AND TORTILLAS).

The 'Harrassment of Strangers' part of the title comes from something I believe only people going to study abroad without anyone they know can actually understand. I'm trying to find a flatmate. In England, if I didn't know who I was going to be living with, it would be fine and dandy because chances are the flatmate would speak English and I could at least make some conversation. However, in a country where I cannot speak the language, I'm having to basically harrass strangers to live with me. Which I've only done once. Today.
Basically, there's a group on faceyb for incoming Erasmus students to Zaragoza, and I keep seeing loads of Italians writing on it, asking for a flatmate. I only have a GCSE in Italian, and to be quite honest, I can't remember most of it. Long story short, I just wrote about my situation on this group and someone commented saying that they were looking in the same place, and just out of the blue, my brain pounced and wrote (a more normal, but still what I consider weird, considering I have never met this girl) 'DO YOU WANT TO LIVE TOGETHER PLZ?!!!!!'. As I said before, I'm very awkward. Very, very, very awkward. I've full on spent the past half an hour after writing that thinking 'Oh God I'm going to have no friends ever oh what have I done why am I so openly weird'. But yeah. That's the situation, and I sincerely hope someone else can relate to this or I've just put myself out there as a massive freaky freak freak.

Anyway, muchos besos, etc.!

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