Why the heck does bad stuff always happen at the most inappropriate time? This week the site broke, and it broke big style. Why the hell did that have to happen when I’m on holiday eh?
The backup I had didn’t work, so I fixed it and restored from that. Did that work? Nope, it decided to stick forum posts all over the place – and I mean everywhere, it was one huge mess of random replies.
Then I bin the new server, switch back to the old one and do another restore. Does that work? Nope. So I ended up getting an even older backup and, luckily, it worked.
What are the chances eh? I spend time backing everything up and then, when you REALLY need to restore the data it doesn’t work properly. Add to this the fact that I’m on holiday and I’m doing nearly everything via a Pocket PC !
Humph.. Well in an attempt to de-stress Emily and I are going to get a massage tomorrow. Yes, you heard me right – I’m going to have a massage. I’d never normally go for something like this at home, but I really need to chill out.
We ended up booking a massage yesterday after finding the “Spa Center” purely by chance. We’d grabbed a couple of bikes from the Activity Centre and peddled around the golf course they have here. It’s huge and we cycled around for hours. We went past several rather snooty golf players in their little buggies and rather strange outfits, “Err.. Hi guys!”, said one. Another said, “Err.. Hello!”. We naturally took this to mean a friendly welcome, so we shouted things like, “Hi, how’s the game? Who’s winning?” as we peddled around the concrete path surrounding each hole. It wasn’t until later, when we spotted the Spa Center (which should be spelt “Centre” of course) that a guy working for the hotel said, “Hey, you shouldn’t be cycling around here, it’s only for golfers”…
Ahh.. That would explain the reaction of the players then…
I said we were on our way back and we peddled up the hill to this spa place. We entered the building, it was full of golf merchandise and people moaning about birdies, 9 Irons and even a guy complaining about illegal cyclists on the course.
We sat down with a nice Mexican lady (they generally are Mexican here in…err.. Mexico) and she gave us a brochure full of treatments. Emily was busy asking about holistic massages whilst I sniggered at the “10 minute facial” treatments.
I looked around but could only see women in the spa and massage rooms. The guys were in the bar – the 19th hole. This also doubled as the golf centre so plenty of golfing bods were sat at the bar swapping stories. The guys seemed to have everything wrapped up – they went golfing while their wives and girlfriends went to the spa. Job done.
You have to be rich though. Some of the more expensive treatments were around 1000 dollars for a half-day treatment. These people are rich and they like people to know it. Just as we were sitting chatting to the lady a rather irate gent stormed in…
“Where’s the taxi cart? I’ve been waiting 15 minutes now, sort it out.”
…and then he stormed back out again. I should explain a little – the taxi cart basically does a round-trip from the golf / spa centre to one of the hotel lobbies every few minutes. His attitude stunk though. I hate that – no please, no thank-you, just throwing your weight around because you’ve got money. What an ar@ehole. These people are lovely. They’re probably on low wages and do long hours, but they’re so helpful and friendly it’s unreal. They shouldn’t have to put up with rich idiots like him.
So where was I? Oh yes. So imagine the scene, there’s luxurious surroundings, a large ornate staircase with the massage rooms upstairs and very rich people strolling around discussing share options. Then there’s us, our two mountain bikes are propped up outside against a golf cart while we’re inside covered in sweat and I’m complaining bitterly about my “saddle rash”.
I think it’s fair to say that we’ll never be part of the rich crowd, but.. to be honest, I don’t think I ever want to be.