I’m actually still in France, at my aunt and uncle’s house. They actually have internet, hence why I’m able to post this (I have just been promoted to Captain of the Obvious Squad). I’ve actually stuck to my promise that I will write posts, so I’ll stick one up here. This isn’t actually the most major thing that happened to me on holiday (the real event was much worse), but the arachnid population is a growing problem in my bedroom. Literally, growing, because I swear they’re getting bigger every year:
I am ambiguous about spiders. While on the one hand, I have a certain fascination of them, on the other hand they are the one creepy-crawly I can’t deal with. Here in the south of France, the insects get larger and stranger than most of what we have in the UK. I can handle giant grasshoppers, shield bugs, black bees, firebugs, hoverflies and strange little leaf insects. But I swear, the spiders here are on growth drugs. The really nasty ones are fat, hairy, and at least the size of my palm. They appear in the same room (my room), on the same wall (the one with my bed on it), crawl in the same direction (towards my bed) and they move fast. That’s if they haven’t already camped out in the window next to my bed.
The last time I saw a spider next to my bed, I made it through two hours of sitting, huddled in my duvet with a candle pointed at the offending arachnid. After it disappeared and reappeared closer to my bed for the tenth time, I gave up and ran out of the house, up the pathway to the top terrace and slept in the caravan.
Thank God poisonous spiders haven’t made it to France yet.
Although this one’s having a bloody good go at pretending to be poisonous: