I remember last Christmas.
My fiancé and I decided to go on a well deserved holiday in the Balearic Islands of Spain.
We are two hard working research staff at the Robert Jackson University who had been unable to take a holiday for years.
We decided on Spain because it was the middle of the winter.
Scotland was having one of the worst winters ever and we thought a little sunshine was a very welcome thing.
So we packed our bags and set out on our trip by train.
We arrived in the morning of the 25th of December.
Balearic Islands is one of the really lovely islands in Spain. It has a rocky terrain with lush green vegetation and amazing landscape.
It was a beautiful day when we arrived with the sun shining. We were so happy and looking forward to a fine holiday. After putting our things away in the self-servicing apartment we rented, we decided to get something to eat. Our lodge was equipped with cooking facilities but we had nothing to cook. The plan was to eat out when we arrived and then get some supplies later on.
I was four months pregnant then and had in the course of our trip singlehandedly finished all the snacks and drinks we had packed for our weekend getaway.
We drove our hired car through the country side. Cameron, my fiancé wanted us to visit the coastal villages first while I’d rather we visited the beach.
After about a quarter of an hour we arrived at a sleepy little village. It seemed that the inhabitants were still in their beds as not a single soul was to be seen even though it was already 9.00am in the morning. All the shops and restaurants were closed. Even the only bakery we came across was shut.
We drove around some more and just as we were about to return to our lodge we happened upon a lone man walking towards our car. The roads were so narrow that we had to stop for him to pass.
I got out of the car and asked the man if he could direct us to the nearest restaurant that was open at that hour but he just stared at me uncomprehendingly.
I repeated myself more slowly, pronouncing my words carefully.
Still he just stood and stared.
I started to feel uneasy, thinking that perhaps I had some chicken bit stuck on my teeth from the sandwich I had eaten earlier.
‘I don’t think he understands what you are saying’ my fiancé stated after a while.
He came around from where he was in the driver seat and demonstrated a feeding motion to the man.
‘Oh ho’ said the man in a loud voice and we both sighed in relief thinking that we had finally communicated our intentions. However what followed was a string of rapid sentences in Spanish.
It was our turn to stare at him. ‘What do you think he is saying?’ I asked Cameron.
‘Search me’ he replied unhelpfully.
‘Could you please fetch the Spanish tourist book from your bag? I put it in there yesterday. Perhaps we can show him some pictures.’
I rumbled through my handbag but could not find the book. Belatedly I remembered leaving it on the table when I had gone to use the rest room at the train station. But I did not tell Cameron that.
The man, obviously tired of trying to help hurried off with a resounding ‘adios’.
‘What do we do now?’ I asked my fiancé in panic as my stomach was making sounds like someone was singing an opera in it.
‘Let’s drive around some more’ he suggested. ‘Surely these people have to wake up sometime?’
I started to say something but stopped. I thought I had better conserve my energy as I did not know how soon we would be able to find food.
We drove for another five minutes when we came across a convenience store.
At first sight it appeared closed like all the others but it was different in that it had a sign hanging on the door that read ‘Abierto.’
We came out of the car and stood staring at the sign for a while.
‘Where is that book Lila?’ Cameron asked again. ‘I am sure I saw this word in it but unfortunately I cannot remember the meaning.’
‘I don’t have it with me here, perhaps it’s in my other bag’ I say to him, not ready to confess just yet.
As we turned to walk away we noticed a little Chinese lady walking towards the door from inside the shop. She stood on the other side of the door and peered at us through the glass.
‘She would get a better look if she would just open the damn door’ Cameron said, a false smile plastered across his face.
I say nothing and concentrated on smiling at the old lady. I think the smile finally did the trick for she opened the door slowly and said something to us in Spanish.
I replied in English that we do not understand Spanish and that all we wanted was to know if she sold anything edible in her shop. At that point I’d welcome even a bubble gum.
‘No English Madam. Speak Mandarin, speak Spanish’ said the little lady.
We both brightened up immediately. Finally I thought someone who could speak English.
‘Food’ we chorused together.
‘Actually we want something to eat’ I added, pointing to my mouth to buttress my point.
‘No food’ the lady replied obviously understanding us. ‘Buy tyres here, only tyres’.
That was when I noticed that indeed there were tyres in the room all around us.
Despondent I almost asked if the tyres were edible.
As I looked around I spied a cup of noodles sitting on a wooden table behind her along with a bottle of orange drink. Quick as a flash I made for it, grabbing and shoving two handfuls down my throat before I realised what I was doing.
In shame I heard Cameron stammering. He was offering to pay the lady for her lunch. But she obviously did not understand him for her reply was a consistent ‘Me call Police’.
And that was how we spent the first day of our holiday, a Christmas Day, at the Police Station.
Several hours and a bail later they let me go.
It had taken a lot of effort from the both of us to convince them that I was not a thief.
Cameron had to tell them that I was pregnant and always hungry.
I think the Police chief was finally convinced after I begged him for his lunch. One of his subordinates had just warmed up a Tortilla wrap for him and the aroma was so irresistible that I just had to taste it. He had relinquished part of it quite grudgingly.
Thirty minutes later we were seated at a Mediterranean styled restaurant. With Cameron carrying a face as long as the Eurotunnel I swore never to travel without adequate emergency food rations.
Ayibu Makolo 