Every year my relatives go to Salou Spain for vacation because they have some property there. I also have some friends in Spain who were staying in a town close to Salou! I conceived the notion that I leave a day before my relatives by train and go see my friends for a couple days and on the way back stay in Salou. A wonderful idea, what could go wrong?
From Belgium to Lille France I had no problems. In fact, when I arrived in Lille I see that the TGV bullet train is ready to leave for Paris and so I jumped on. The train was almost full, but I manage to find a seat. I'm sitting there minding my own business when a woman comes over gives me a strange look and sits down next to me. "What did I do?" I wonder to myself, when all of the sudden I look out the window and see some guy yelling and screaming about something. By now the train has begun to move and this guy's chasing it waving tickets in his hand. I chuckled to myself, thinking if he were only a little sooner like me he wouldn't have missed the train. As I was resting there, imagining what that poor guy was thinking then, two ticket collectors come over and ask for my ticket. I show them my pass and they asked for my supplement. "Supplement? What supplement? I didn't know you needed a supplement for this train." The price of the bullet train is more expensive and the seating is assigned. That's why the woman looked at me so oddly. Technically speaking, I was in her seat! The first collector was going to charge me full price for the trip when the second collector told him not to be such an ass about it and just charge me the supplement. Well, that was settled, but why was the guy outside so upset? Because I took his seat. C’est la vie dans la grande ville.
O.K. at least I made it to Paris. I have my tickets and from here on nothing can go wrong. Nothing like clinging to a false sense of security to guide you through life. The train arrived and it appeared as though I was going to have a sleeping compartment all to myself. Of course, as soon as I thought this four young Italians walk in; two boys and two girls about seventeen years old. "This will be all right" I thought "perhaps I'll have a chance to practice some Italian." Obviously, they had no interest in communicating with me and crawled up to the top bunks; with the two boys on one side and the two girls on the other to talk and eat. So minding my own business I lied down in my bottom bunk and began to read. I assume that they wanted to sleep when the lights were suddenly turned off. A little early, being around ten o'clock, but I figured that they were probably right and that I needed a good nights rest before I arrived in Spain.
The interesting thing about sleeping on a train is that it's relatively impossible to do; at least for me anyway. It's because the bunk above you feels like it is about 5 inches away from your face. I suppose that the best way to describe it is for you to imagine lying in a coffin with the lid shut. Not a pleasant feeling. In order to alleviate this problem I angled myself in a position where I could see the roof of the compartment instead. Much to my surprise I didn't get a chance to see the roof. No, instead what I saw was a girl with one foot on her bunk and one foot on the bunk across from her as she was crossing to her boyfriend. What makes this incident rather notable was the fact that I (being underneath her) ended up with a particular "full" view of what she looked like under her T-shirt nightgown. A view that I've now share with only her gynecologist and I assume her boyfriend. From here I don't think it necessary to go into great detail of the next "course of action" which followed as teenagers do what they will when their parents aren't around. Evidently the couple in the top bunks felt an equivalent emotion as their friends and pursued this "attraction" in a similar affectionate manner. It was as if pornographic director Russ Meyer was filming and I accidentally wandered onto the movie set. Needless to say after a few minutes of being audience to this production, I felt like screaming "Focus the camera I can't see anything! And sub-titles! I want sub-titles!" Actually, the whole experience made me feel terribly old and I wanted to jump up between the bunks like some sort of militant chaperone and yell "O.K.! Boys on this side, girls on that side and nobody touches, talks or even looks at one another until morning!!!" I wound up spending most of the night in the corridor outside the room watching the scenery at night.
SPAIN
Spain is truly a beautiful country. The people, a rich culture, majestic countryside, glorious history, the climate are all fantastic. It's no wonder the Belgians come here every year!
By the time I reached Barcelona it was about eleven o'clock in the morning. I hadn't slept much, didn't get a chance to eat, but I was still happy to be there (and to be away from my "playful" traveling companions). Once arriving at the station I looked at the schedule which told me that a train to Torre Blanco left fifteen times a day and that I should wait and watch the schedule above the ticket counter to find out what platform it would be leaving from. "No problem," I thought in my normal naive manner "With a train that comes fifteen times a day I shouldn't have to wait too long. Maybe I'll be there before dinner!" I waited two hours and still there was no train. Finally I went to the information desk to inquire about this inconvenient delay
-"Excuse me. When does the train to Torre Blanco arrive?"
-"Torre Blanco" (he laughs) "There is no train to Torre Blanco!"
I about fainted when he said that.
-"What?!" (I exclaim) "No train to Torre Blanco! The schedule says the a train goes to Torre Blanco fifteen times a day!"
-"Well let me check my schedule book and see." (he goes through it) "Oh! You are right, but I see what the problem is."
-"What's that?"
-"The train to Torre Blanco doesn't run right now."
That didn't surprise me too much. After all why start off this day with good luck. I continued my conversation through clenched teeth.
-"When does it does it run?
-"Tomorrow."
-"Tomorrow?!! You mean like the day after today?!"
-"Yes. What you should do is come back tomorrow at seven o'clock in the morning and the train should be here."
-"Is there a train that goes near Torre Blanco?"
He checks the guide again
-"Yes. A train goes to Orapessa the town next to Torre Blanco. Perhaps you can take a taxi from there. But you must hurry because the train leaves in an hour and you must by a supplementary ticket with your pass."
"No problem" I thought. The exchange bureau was sixty feet away from the ticket counter and I could have my ticket in five minutes! With a sigh a relief I calmly walked to the exchange bureau and was able to claim my place in line. Little did I know this was exchange bureau manned by morons. There were two people in front of me and it took the man behind the counter forty-five minutes to exchange their money! In this period of time that I waited and sweated as I watched each precious minute go by I came to the conclusion that the safety glass that separates you from the them is not to protect them from being rob. No, no, no, actually it's to protect them from irate customers who would strangle them if they had the chance. They must have known that I was in a hurry and that time was of the essence because it only took them fifteen minutes to exchange my money! Grabbing my money I turned and sprinted to the ticket counter, hurling small children to the side and leaping over old women; only to arrive too late for the train (no surprise here is it?).
Depressed, disillusioned, and wondering "when does the hurting stop?" I wandered back to information to find the NEXT closest town to Torre Blanco.
-"That would be Tortosa. And maybe from there you can catch a bus to Torre Blanco, but I don't think so."
-"Why not?"
-"The train for Valencia leaves here at six o'clock and you won't get to Tortosa until eleven o'clock tonight. I don't know what time the busses stop running, but I don't think you'll be able to find one."
Eleven o'clock! I wasn't going to show up at eleven o'clock at night. My friends weren't even expecting me. Plus, maybe they went out for the evening and weren't going to be home at all I had no way of knowing. Of course, by then I just wanted to be closer to the area than I was then so I bought the ticket and hoped for the best.
Once on the train I learned why it was going to take so long to get to Tortosa. This train stopped at every station on the way. That meant that it was going to stop at Salou! This is when little gray cells in my brain began to work. I figured that since the train will stop in Salou at nine o'clock and perhaps my relatives from Belgium may have made it to Spain already I would just get off the train and go spend the night there and catch the morning train to Torre Blanco. Sometimes your bad luck can be your good luck. Then again sometimes your bad luck is still your bad luck!
I'm positive that this plan would have worked if not for one minor detail; my relatives had not yet made it. As I slowly approached the darkened apartment I kept saying to myself "Maybe they're just out to dinner. Yes, yes, I'm sure they're just out to dinner." O.K. so I was wrong, but I was always one to dream the impossible dream. By chance the apartment next to them had the lights on and so I thought perhaps they decided to stay in that one instead since they own both. Again I was wrong, but this time I was greeted with a rather shocking surprise as a girl that I met four years ago answered the door.
-"Jason! How are you? We've been expecting you"
-"You have?!! How on earth could you have been expecting me? I didn't even know that I was going to be here until twenty minutes ago!"
Actually it was rather scary when she said that. Like something out of a science fiction or horror movie. It appears that I had some other cousins who were in the staying the apartment next door and they told this girl and her family that I would probably show up sometime during their vacation. Well, as luck would have it, my cousins left earlier that day, but this family was extremely kind and let me stay with them until the morning when the girl drove me to the train station.
Now before I went to the apartment that night, I made sure I knew the time of the arrival of the train so as not to be late. Plus, I made sure we were going to be plenty early. When we arrived there was a mob of people already at the station waiting for the train. After some inquiry about the situation we discovered that there was a train strike in Barcelona and not all the trains would be running that day. Sigh. The good news was that my train was on it's way and should arrive at ten o'clock! "Hooray! Hurrah! " I was ready to start doing a jig in the middle of the station when I heard that for once fate scooped me from disaster and left others there. This would be a good time to remind you that I try to look very nice when I travel and so like on my trip to Borkum, I'm wearing a suit. A dark suit. A very dark suit. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I stood out in the sun for twenty minutes until ten o'clock, but I didn't care I wanted to be sure and get on that train. I stood there smiling and smiling as if nothing could break my spirits. Forty-five minutes passed and I was still standing there only by then I was with broken spirits and sweating like a race horse. The train finally came and I said "good bye" to the girl and was ready to go. Unfortunately there were no seats available and so I (and others) had to stand in front of the door. "No problem" I thought as my good spirits had returned "I'll gladly stand in front of the doors, because soon I'll be in Torre Blanco "
The wheels of the train slowly began to turn and as I felt the vibration of the locomotive and heard the hum of the engine, my heart was pounding with anticipation of finally getting to my destination. This lasted for a minute; literally. It appears that the train traveled sixty feet and broke down. "Oh cruel Fate, what have I done to deserve this?!!" After "baking" in our little mobile "oven" for about twenty minutes it took five of us to pry open the door so we didn't all suffocate.
Two hours later the journey continued. We only broke down once more, but it was only for half an hour, so hardly worth mentioning. I arrive in Torre Blanco only to see that it's a very small station out in the middle of nowhere. Granted it was picturesque with mountains as a backdrop behind the town, but all I wanted to do was find my friends and change my clothes. Actually my friends were staying in a village called Torre Nostra which is located by the sea side, down the road from Torre Blanco. Luckily my friend drew me a map of how to get there and it wasn't too far. Since I could see the town from the station I decided that the best thing to do was to go into Torre Blanco (opposite the direction of Torre Nostra) and find a taxi to take me to Torre Nostra.
When I walked into the center of town I didn't see anyone. I was like a ghost town. I forgot that I arrived at "siesta" time and everyone was inside resting. This meant no taxi's. Because Torre Nostra is only about three kilometers away I decided to walk there. That distance seemed much shorter in my mind. Walking past the station again I found what I thought was the main road to Torre Nostra. I was wrong. Instead I find myself under a sun blazing at it's hottest point, wearing a suit, carrying luggage and walking three kilometers through a large fruit orchard. Eventually I came upon the owner of the orchard (what are the odds of that happening?). Once he saw me he stopped working and just stood there staring at me. I was convinced was going to kill me for one of two reasons. First, I was trespassing and since no one would he the screams as he repeatedly pierced my body with the sharp tool he had in his hand he could burying me out where no one would ever find me again. Or, secondly, because only a delirious idiot would be walking around a desert climate wearing a suit and carrying luggage during the middle of the day and he would feel it his sacred duty to put me out of my misery. Personally, at that time either of those ideas were rather appealing. As it turned out he was delighted to see someone, anyone. I assume that he didn't go out much and speaking in French (because I only speak one or two words of Spanish) to an oddity such as myself that looked like I just popped out of a Victorian adventure story delighted him. The old man eventually told me how to get to the main road so I was able to get on with my travels.
Upon reaching the road, I was certain that I would be able to hitchhike my way into town. But once more, I was wrong. It's not that cars didn't pass, because they did. It's that no one wanted to give me a ride out of the heat for fear that their car would smell like they were transporting wildebeests from the wild.
By the time that I reached little town of Torre Nostra I looked and felt terrible, but using the map I found where my friend lived. Unfortunately, he was staying in an apartment building and the only way to get in was to "buzz" his apartment and hope that he would let me in. I was afraid to do this because I thought that one of his parents would answer and I didn't know if they could speak English or not. Fortunately though, as I was standing there trying to build up the courage to ring the buzzer a man about my age was standing nearby and saw I was obviously lost, confused and stupid (referring to the outfit). When he approached me, he asked something first in Spanish then in English.
-"Can I help you?"
-"Yes, I'm looking for my friend Antonio" and handed him the map with the address "I believe that he..."
-"Antonio! I know Antonio! He's a friend of mine. I can help you."
Hot damn! He knew Antonio! Finally something was going right. He tried ring the bell and calling up to the apartment from the street, but there was no answer. They were gone. Although I felt like a lemming who wanted to jump off a cliff, my new amigo Rueben was undaunted.
-"Obviously Antonio's not home now. I think he and his family are having dinner with his girlfriend Anna. Do you know Anna?"
-"Do I know Anna?! I went to school with Anna! That's how I know Antonio!"
-"Well her uncle is down the street and perhaps he knows when they'll be back"
Her uncle was sitting outside a cafe when we met him. Rueben explained the situation and her uncle motioned that I come and wait at the house for Anna. The hospitality of wherever I go is absolutely incredible. Here I am, a fool off the streets that doesn't speak the language and people are treating me like a king.
At the house I met Anna's aunt and cousins who again extended that same hospitality and offered me food and drink. Forever being the diplomat I had to decline (even though I thought I was going to die of thirst from my little walk). I did, however, use the bathroom to freshen up and since I was there I thought now would be a good time to just drink from the tap and not bother anyone. After Anna came back she mentioned almost immediately that I should never drink from the tap because I could get sick. Oddly enough, I didn't get sick, but I did stay up the whole night thinking I would be spending the rest of the vacation in convulsions, but nothing. She also mentioned that everyone in town kept mentioning to her that there was a very odd looking stranger in town looking for her. Isn't that sweet, I became the village idiot in less than an hour.
My time with Anna, Antonio, and their friends was wonderful. At the beach during the day and going out at night. There was one particular time at the beach that was a bit more exciting than I had anticipated. The day was rather stormy and overcast and the water was very rough so a group of us just sat out near the water and chatted. It was about then when I received this irresistible urge to do some exploring. Nothing too expansive, I just thought I'd walk up the beach a bit or perhaps go to the string of rocks that extended from the beach into the sea. "Yes, ...the rocks. Watching the waves crash against the rocks." Such a harmless and peaceful idea, as if a picture seen on a postcard. I climbed to safe spot relatively close to the beach and looked as far as I could in every direction and that's when I saw it. The rock. Not just any rock, a rock that was meant to climbed on and stood upon so all could come and gaze upon you. I dare say that this was a mighty nice rock. The only problem with it was that it was further down the string heading into the sea, but that's what made it more "the rock" in a philosophical sense. Impenetrable against the force of sea and distinct from other rocks around it, this was a rock that screamed "excitement", "courage", "challenge" and "danger." Let me state now that I'm not really fond of "danger" and normally I would be deterred from anything that involved it…yet, I was drawn to it this time. Like being caught in some sort on caught in the gravitational pull of a large monolithic entity. I couldn't escape the luring power as it beckoned me to come to it. And so I did. I climbed over other rocks cutting my hands and scraping my knees all in the effort to push forward. As I continued with each step I saw and heard the waves crashing around me harder and harder as if they were trying to warn me of something, but I paid no attention and only laughed because I knew the reward of getting there was worth the risk. Then...I made it!! I reached the rock!!! The pounding of my heart rang in my ears as a gave a steely gaze off into the sea. The wind blowing through my hair, I felt like a man who just climbed Mount Everest and could take on the world now. So what if my hands bled a little, I was right it was all worth it in the end just like in the movies.
My thoughts and fantasy were suddenly cut short when piercing silence engulfed me. I noticed that the waves no longer crashing around the rocks and in a split second the world grew darker as an impending sense of doom swooped down upon me like the vulture of fate pecking the eyes out of its victim. As I turned around I saw that I was in the shadow of the he largest wave I've ever seen. In the flash of an instant I fell flush to the rock and hung on to wherever I could thinking "You MORON!! What are you doing out here?!! You should be on the beach where it's safe! Don't be so theatrical and you'll live longer!!" When the wave did crash down upon me, I’m convinced I heard the voice of Poseidon erupt from the thunderous roar of the waves to inform me
-"YOU MERE MORTAL DO NOT BELONG HERE!!"
Followed by a force of water hitting me as if a hand was trying to swat me off that rock. Lying there after the wave had passed, still clutching what I thought was the rock I noticed that the water actually did get me off that rock and my pathetically little drenched body was situated on another. Interestingly enough, it took me about twenty minutes to get out to the rock, but after heeding the warning it took me only about two minutes to get back to shore. The lesson learned here is that in the competition between man and nature, nature always wins.
After a few days with my friends I decided that it was time to go back and see my relatives in Salou. The train was actually on time and had no complication on the way back. I presume that this miraculous occurrence was due to the fact that I was in no hurry. The train pulled into Salou about six o'clock when I reached the apartment I noticed that it was still all closed up. It appeared as though no one was there, yet I was convinced that they must have arrived (in Spain) by then. Assuming that because of the time I was there my relatives must have gone out for dinner. I decided to leave my bags in front of the door with a note and do the same.
As I was up there writing my message, the man on the floor beneath me informed me that I had just missed them by ten minutes (typical), but if I wanted I could wait in his apartment. Although I knew the man from four years ago I was rather hungry and didn't want to eat him out of house and home. He agreed to watch my bags for me when I went out to get something.
I came back at ten o'clock and still nobody was there. This is rather odd since my aunt and uncle usually don't go out late at night. Off in the distance I began to hear fireworks in the distance and remembered it was a Spanish National Holiday! I had no idea when they would get back and so was faced with the choice of either sitting alone outside the apartment or talking with the guy who was watching my luggage. I opted for the second, which actually worked out well because he normally didn't go to sleep until 4 o'clock in the morning His sister and brother-in-law were also there and we stayed up talking and drinking until two o'clock in the morning when my relatives returned.
Although Salou is in Spain, I would estimate that only about thirty percent of the people there are actually Spanish or Catalonian. Which is both good and bad. Granted, you are unable to experience the true essence of the country and culture, but since most of the people there are tourists like myself, everywhere you go you can meet somebody from somewhere else. Plus, there the entertainment industry is much larger so there's always some place to go and something to do. For example, one night a group of us from the building (five Belgian Families and one Frenchman married to a Belgian) went into town and occupied half of an outdoor restaurant. By mid-way through the meal we were taking turns singing on the Kareoke machine, drinking and dancing and extended our party to a large group of English people. We were there pretty late and the festivities ended when the people from the English group forgot a ten year old girl and she was left there alone crying! It took a while to calm her down and get find her parents, but it all worked out in the end.
There were other events like street festivals to attend if one wanted. There was one right in front of our building on night and it lasted until the next day! After two o'clock the beer was free and half the building was helping clean up and drinking as much beer as they could stomach. Being part of that group I slept most of the next day.
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