Now most of you will be shocked to hear this, because it hardly ever happens, but after passing through the border into Spain we got lost. After searching around for a while I was suddenly overcome with an insatiable desire to have a wee-wee. We were heading into a small Spanish village somewhere near Isla Cristina on our way to Playa de Islantilla Beach. I parked the car pretty near to a bar, which I felt pretty confident would have a toilet.
If any of you have ever watched an old Spaghetti Western where the stranger from out of town walks into the saloon and it suddenly goes quiet while everyone turns around to look at the stranger. That is just how I felt walking into that bar. The Chimpton says it should have had a sign above the door saying: “A Local Bar, for Local People”. On the other hand, I kept expecting to hear the theme tune from A Fist Full of Dollars and Clint Eastwood to walk out in his poncho.
I was the man bear-keeper with no name!
I decided against using the facilities and continued our search for a toilet. Luckily we quickly found a little café and decided to stop and ask for directions to the beach at Playa de Islantilla – there was sure to be toilets there. The man refused to tell us unless we purchased some drinks. We sat at a table while the guy brought us some lukewarm, diet pop. We started drinking when suddenly we were invaded by a guy on a scooter who had driven straight into the shop on his 50cc motor scooter.
The guy was speaking loudly in Spanish about us buying Spanish State Lottery tickets. Every time we declined his kind offer he replied: “Yes, yes. Lottery!” I think this guy was the local Del Boy from Only Fools and Horses out to make a few Pesetas for himself. “This time next year, we will be millionaires.”
We drank our Cokes as quickly as we could and headed for the door. The Chimpton doesn’t even like Coke but she downed it that day faster than I have ever seen her drink anything. The guy from the shop wanted paying for the drinks so I just held out my hand with a pile of money in it and let him help himself. Sorry to be using another film vernacular, but the whole thing was like a scene from Deliverance.
We drove out of town as fast as we could and, luckily, found Playa de Islantilla Beach further along the main highway. We traipsed down to the beach and threw a couple of towels down to collapse onto and started soaking up the lovely rays.
The beach was quiet with hardly anyone in sight. The Chimpton did some sunbathing while I went for a little paddle in the sea. It was nice and cool in the water following the stresses of the day and I started to unwind and enjoy the fun of being on holiday in the sun – without any sun cream obviously as that is just for wimps.
I hadn’t been that long in the water when I turned round to return to where Chimpton was lying enjoying the sun. I returned to her and shook myself to splash her with as much water as I could manage. The joys of having your Dad on holiday with you.
As we sat there laughing and arguing with each other just along from us we had woken up an elderly man who had been fast asleep in the sun. He stood up, looked at us with disgust, stretched and started to walk past us… totally naked!
We both burst out laughing. We had ended up on a nudist beach again!
Why does it always happen to us?
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