An Encounter With The Local La Guardia!

Honestly, you can’t take us anywhere, was going to call this OUR FIRST encounter but thought better of it. If we get a second one, I’ll let you know all the gossip from my Wi Fi enabled prison cell.

To be fair we were being taken somewhere by someone else… Sat in the back of a taxi on the way home, there’s a shortcut cars and walkers can take that isn’t an “official road.” Call it the stairway to heaven via the back way…

Halfway up the unofficial road, a police car (What? Here? Never) was coming down towards us, and pulled up our taxi driver. Two cars wide tops, the place was blocked to the thousands of other cars not using it. The taxi driver switched the radio off, the sat nav shut up, and more importantly for us so did the meter on the dash.

We listened intently, totally intrigued whilst trying to understand the dialogue. We’ve got to the point where we can read and understand Spanish. But listening to people talk to each other is a minefield of the unknown. It’s all way too fast, so:

“Hablar mas despacio pour favour?!”

Except cops are exempt. Don’t mess about trying to be clever with Spanglish, the only potential problem with that would be the embarrassment factor. Nothing to hide except red cheeks, while they laugh their socks off.

So, there we were, face to face with two La Guardia police personnel, both sat in a very posh car with several computer screens lit up like candles, blue lights flashing – and armed with guns.

I was tempted to put my hands up in the air and say “Ola, I noo naathing” but thought better of it. The “better option” is to sit still, look straight ahead (after ogling the tech spec) and play dumb. So we did. Let the taxi driver deal with whatever huge emergencia situation there may be, then we heard the word FOOTBALL,, several times.

Turns out they knew each other, and were fans of opposing teams taking the piss out of a recent match between the two. Who’d won / lost and why, the “incident” turned into a football autopsy. Phew, no handcuffs then… I mean that extendable mop we bought must be worth a fortune on the black power mop market. Could even be classed as a dangerous weapon of sorts.


Reminds me of the time Dave flashed his headlights to pull over a cop car in the USA, (bit cheeky but true) we were well and truly lost in the dark. As Mr Cop walked towards us, hand on gun, we both made sure our empty hands were up in plain sight. Whilst at the same time not making it look like a surrender pose.

COP: “How can I help you folks?”

DAVE: Well we’re trying to find…

COP: “You’re English right?!” 

{Remain cool and think about British Royalty}

DAVE: Shows him the map we were given.

COP: “Oh no, I see where it’s gone wrong.”

Well knock me down, he went back to his car and drew us another one, the right one, and got us home.

“Have a nice night ya’ll.”

Sure did, we got there and jumped in our heated swimming pool at 4am…


Fortunately we’ve only ever bumped into nice policemen who’ve either been most helpful or truly entertaining…

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