Spain

From Elation To Deflation

We´re still on day two at the hotel here. After our visitors left to continue their journey, we went down to the “hidden gem” of a place I told you about. The bar / restaurant with pool, tennis courts etc, and a lovely welcoming community atmosphere we´re used to. (The exact opposite of the hospital hotel). It was quiz night, so we sat down ready to lose in a blaze of glory when another couple asked if we wanted to team up with them. OK then, so we did…

AND {SHOCK HORROR} WE WON! WE ACTUALLY WON! Private Message: You reading this Liz the Wiz? Is the Parish Council team still beating you every Tuesday or have they all popped their clogs?

Anyway back to the shock and awe situation, our prize (plural) was a bottle of red wine and a bottle of well, something else. They liked red wine, we don´t, so we did the right thing and gave it to them. Which left us with something called “Manzana Verde, Apple Liquor.” What the??? Well never mind, we´ll either:

a) Save it up as a joke present for someone else who might know even less about it.

b) Donate it to our local bar.

c) Water it down a bit and use it as a drain cleaner.

Sorted.

Note: Dave was brave enough to carry out a “taste test” and the verdict is, it´s absolutely revolting.

The whole experience reminded me of the time I once won a raffle, it was a big event and there were 10 items on the table. Therefore there´d be 10 lucky winners to choose their own prize, well,, except for the tenth person… Everyone was a bit merry by then, including the two people reading out raffle ticket numbers and handing over the goodies.

My winning ticket was 11th out of the hat… If you´re good at maths that means I got to the table and there was nothing left. There I was shouting to our friends (had to shout to be heard amidst the crowd) “It´s me! It´s me! That´s my number! Oh my god, I´ve never won a raffle in my life!”

I knew there couldn´t be much left, that my prize would probably be the last one, the reject, the sad broken item nobody wanted. But it didn´t matter, even a pair of multi-coloured shoe laces would´ve done, it was the principle of it all. As I walked towards the empty table I wondered if there was a booby bonus prize hidden underneath it. Silver tea service? Diamond necklace? Armani watch? Tesco vouchers? A plastic pot plant?

But alas it was all a mistake, somebody couldn´t count proper. Not even an empty box or the tablecloth was offered as compensation. The crowd let out a stifled titter, then a big “AWWWW” so I grabbed the microphone and made a speech along the lines of:

“I´d just like to thank everyone for their support at this difficult time. I´ve never experienced the trauma involved with winning a prize that doesn´t exist, so I´m just going to have to cope with it. I´d also like to ask my friends, family, and acquaintances for their patience and understanding during the recovery process. Finally, if anyone in the audience would like to donate a gift…?”

Howling laughter,, thunderous applause,, I should´ve been a comedian…    

¡¡¡

On a more hymnal note, just beyond the “hidden gem” we found this little tiny cuty pie church. Aw bless, it even had a charming chiming bell that sounded every hour, on the hour, so no one could lose track of time while sat having a drink next door. {I wonder if anyone´s remembered to put the clock back an hour}

2015-10-20 11.42.21

If the vicar carries out his sermon whilst suspended from the ceiling, there must be room for all of five people to sit in comfort and peace.

On the other hand that might just be the pulpit in the photo and everyone gathers outside.

On the other other hand, if it isn´t the pulpit. People might turn up on a Saturday and form an orderly queue in order to get a seat. {You know, a similar situation to what happens at Harrods when there´s a sale on} If you´re 6th in line or beyond, there´s always the possibility that someone in front might get fed up and go home.

However, the most likely scenario in Spain is that everyone´s late to the party anyway. There´d still be a queue though, so the vicar would have to give the same sermon about 50 times to 5 people at a time. Even better, chop that tree back a bit, stick a decent sound system on the roof, and the sermon would be heard for miles around. No-one even needs to get out of bed…    

Under the duvet or not, it doesn´t require rocket science to work out where the congregation must all end up after the service…

So back to the heading of this post, after all the excitement of winning something {anything} we went back to the hotel later on and both felt fine. Dave had a map of Torrevieja and we were going to explore the town centre during the next couple of days. Except,, the next morning we both woke up coughing, sneezing and aching all over. As the day went on it got worse, we managed to stumble down to the hidden gem (truly exhausted) and forced down some egg on toast.

Several people recognised us from the pub quiz, don´t know how because we must´ve looked like a couple of zombies. One lady even went home and brought back some sachets of the Lemsip equivalent here, how kind of her. So we tried them, but this BUG was a BUGGER and we knew it, forget Torrevieja town centre, we could hardly move.

Sleep was the menu de la dia – and night. At some point we both agreed to go home tomorrow, (Thursday), even though we were booked in till Friday… At least we could take our time packing up! We had no choice, couldn´t even think straight. Just to add to the confusion I lost a pair of shoes. So we had to carry out an excruciatingly painful search that lasted half an hour, Dave eventually found them hiding behind a curtain. We both needed a lie down afterwards.

What a disaster it all turned into – no refund on the extra night we´d paid for either… To be honest we didn´t have the energy to bother mentioning it. As we handed our key cards to the guy at the desk, all we asked for was to book us a taxi…

There was a slight millisecond of amusement when the taxi turned up and the driver asked if we were going to the airport? “Well, um, no, it´s just a few miles erm, kilometres south of here.” Gave him the address and felt a little bit silly…

It was ok on the way there, the taxi driver totally got it, “You go to sit on sal lake por sum dias???”

Oh the sheer irony of it all, I called it “the hospital hotel” when we arrived there and it made us both ILL.

It´s now five days since the BUG took over, and we´re still taking it in turns as to which part of the body feels worst at different times. “Well at least I´m not feeling feverish anymore” says me this morning,, ask me now…

“It´s all the badness coming out.” (As me mother used to say…)

Perhaps we should go back to the salt mines lakes and rent a villa for next Sunday morning. So we can lie in bed, and listen to the sermon that kills the bug, except I hope the bug understands Spanish else that´s a really stupid idea…

One thought on “From Elation To Deflation

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