Technical problems & jippy tum

"Do you want visit Castle? Juan is leaving right now if you wish to go".
"Errr yes I will please, are dog's allowed?" The answer from the lady behind the counter in the 'Alhama de Granada' tourist office was affirmative so off I trots behind Juan.

Well the castle was nothing special and it turned out that our Juan only had 20minutes before knocking off time. Also he wished for us to be as fascinated as he obviously was by individual bits of castle wall which revealed to him amazing details of the castle's history. However; his verbal enthusiasm was in Spanish, rapid Spanish, in fact extremely rapid Spanish. This was definitely lost on me and, judging by their faces, on the other two couples on the castle tour with me .

La Manga lay behind me.  My impromptu  decision to hurtle down the fast A7 to Nerja for my birthday turned out not to be one of of my better decisions. I made it alright all 335 k in just a few hours. I was so pleased that once parked up Tanya and I headed for a favourite restaurant at Buriana beach where we enjoyed a good meal. Tired, full and happy we strolled slowly back to Sadie only to be told by our motorhome neighbours I had left the lights on (lots of tunnels on the A7) equaling flat battery, inner rage and despondency. There was not even enough juice to unlock the doors. Fortunately my contingency plan, ie hidden key, worked and we were thankfully soon safely inside. This was rather necessary as by now I was getting painful and urgent 'urges and surges' from my lower regions. A night of intimacy with my small but functionally adequate toilet followed. Morning arrived and was met by a bleary eyed, bowelled out me. Thankfully as day progressed so stomach improved. Plus a very helpful local gave us a jump start enabling me to charge up my battery. Nerja though, was turning out not to be the place I wished to be for my birthday.

I put  my finger on the village of 'Competa' up in the hills behind 'Nerja'. "That's where we're going Tan. We're going to celebrate my birthday in a lovely Spanish mountain village". Turned out to be a good choice. A lively and steep white-painted village reached on twisty mountain roads. The population comprised a mix of Spanish, foreign locals, a large proportion of whom are British (who all spoke highly of the friendly community based atmosphere of 'Competa') and a regular influx of tourists and holidaymakers.

We soon found a good spot to park and I have to say I had a very pleasant Birthday enjoying a good meal out (with no ill effects) at' Restaurant Perico' right in the village square where, over coffee, I enjoyed people watching/listening while Tanya enjoyed tit bits from neighbouring tables. I also nearly bought a new phone from a helpful lady phone shop owner. I wanted dual sim cards so I could use a Spanish sim card to enhance my Internet availability over and above my UK contract. In the end I decided not to being fearful of losing stuff like sat nav maps and passwords during swap over.

Next morning we were on our way cross country, read even-smaller, twisty, mountain road type cross country with fabulous views, to 'Alhama de Granada', which is, if you  recall where I left you a few paragraphs ago. On the Castle tour which by now had come to an end but not before we, that is the two rather wealthy looking tall Syrian couples on holiday from Switzerland (not refugees .... That's for sure) and myself were passed over to a portly local gentleman carrying an enormous key who informed us he would now show us around his traditional Spanish, early century house which he was slowly renovating. Two hours later, tired, hungry and gobsmacked at the maze like aladins cave being sensitively and painstakingly restored that we had just seen we emerged back onto the street.  We then had a photo shoot with the large key being inserted into the eighteenth century door as the focus.

That is when I dropped my phone. With a sickening 'smack' it hit the pavement.  Screen smashed and nothing worked. Now I have to say I give myself quite a bit of credit here. I had a brief moment of stomach churning dread then simply put it in my pocket and muttered to myself; "Ah well, shit happens!"  Funny though isn't it; the mischievous games Universe plays.  There was me nearly bought a new phone the day before and now here I was one day later the proud owner of a smashed phone.  Universal chaotic quantum mischief is what I call it.

I am back in 'Nerja' right now and have just enjoyed a smashing Sunday lunch after a good sea swim, with, I am happy to add, no ill effects from either. I'm killing time until my phone is repaired back up in the hills at 'Competa' where I went back to as I decided to take 'Universe's'  hint and buy a new phone. Life, or let's put it another way. Life plus today's fast moving high technology is never simple though. Yes swanky spanky new phone but, as I find always seems to be the case, nothing of importance (like sat nav maps or passwords) ever swaps over to the new phone, or is backed up as you thought it was. Hence me here in Nerja waiting for my trusty old phone to be repaired when hopefully I will be able to access 'other stuff'. No guarantee of course plus I have to work with the Spanish timescale which is very different from the UK.  "Ah no, cannot now fix for Friday. I fix next Wednesday.... maybe".

Ho hum eh!

Tim, Heather, meditation & fast boats.

"They've arrived Tanya." I stepped outside Sadie, carrot in one hand and peeler in the other, to welcome nephew Tim with girlfriend Heather. With puzzled look on his face Tim said. "Wasn't sure it was you what with the big Range Rover outside plus large dog as well as Tanya".
"Ah yes" I replied. "It's been some day and it's not over yet, come on in and I'll explain while I finish expanding last night's curry for us all".
As we tucked in to my 'expanded' (and ... May I add ... rather delicious) curry plus three grain rice I explained my 'different ' day little knowing it was by no means over and that before it ended Tim and Heather would also be fully involved in its hilarious twists and turns.

The day had started peacefully enough with a meditation on the beach in warm early morning sunshine.

'May the day be as it is
May I neither like or dislike
May I just be with 'is' as it is'.

I tell you. Those words sustained me as the day/night developed.

Mark, a local resident who had become a good friend to us, had, the evening before, mentioned he was taking his boat out to a local island next day and would Tony and I (of Tony and Pam my motorhome neighbours fame) like to accompany him. Sure enough next morning Mark turned up in his Range Rover and departed with Tony and myself on board. Pam, bless her, very kindly offered to dog-sit Tanya who was quite happy to oblige. Not only had Tanya taken a shine to both Pam and Tony she had also fallen completely in love with the shaggy rug in their motorhome. The doggy sitting was only going to be for a couple of hours anyway ..... or so we thought at the time.

On board Mark's sleek and very new speedboat complete with sink, fridge and snug fore cabin three guys could be seen taking snapshots during the three knot cruise through the marina and out into the Med proper. Then 250hp roared appproval and accelerated us to 50knots creating a curved creamy wake behind and eliciting whoops of joy from me. Boy that was fun! At such speed we soon fetched our craggy island destination where we  anchored up in Crystal clear water.

A wee note here. Tony, a successful self made man with good lady left behind  kindly minding Tanya, was for the day out with an equally gregarious self made  likeable Irishman whose good lady happened also to be away for a few days. Boys stories exchanged thick and fast as Mark produced fishing rod plus bread. Fish were all around and consuming in a frenzy every lump of bread apart from that which clung to the fish-hook. I'm still not sure about the convincing tale Mark would have us believe of intelligent college educated fish telling each other which bit of bread NOT to go for. Sounded too much of a fisherman's excuse to me. Needless to say no succulent fish for supper were landed giving Tony and myself ammunition to unmercifuly fire into Mark for the rest of the day.
Another exhilarating 'this is what I'm built for' 50knot power plane had us Marina bound, but more to the point ..... Marina bar bound.
I am teetotal, have been for several years now and don't expect any brownie points for it. My two companions on the other hand were not. I watched these first couple of civilised and deserved beers perform their allotted task of effortlessly pushing aside any 'I'm never going to drink again' or, 'I'll just have one or two' boundaries which may previously have been firmly slotted into place.
It was agreed, as we clambered into the Range Rover the Irish Bar, within walking distance of home was to be our next destination. "Uh-ho; this is not going to be a few hours", I mused to myself. The company was good though and we were also going to eat. No problem.
That was when I got the phone call from nephew Tim requesting a visit as they were on a weeks holiday with hired car and not far away. I was delighted at this 'stuff happening' and attracting more 'stuff happening'. Good ol'Universe piling it in thick and fast.
Mark and Tony were soon installed on high bar chairs at the Irish Bar while I departed complete with Range Rover and Simba the labrador, who is, to Mark's credit, a highly accommodating and tolerant doggy. I was to return at nine thirty to collect (read - attempt to collect) Tony
As I arrived at our motorhomes Pam, with puzzled face greeted me and also displayed high levels of tolerance and accommodation as I explained my arrival with big posh motor plus dog but no Tony.

Tanya meanwhile ignored me after giving me a 'Where's my bloody food' look.

I departed to Sadie to feed two dogs plus expand the curry in readiness for Tim and Heather's arrival.
Some day so far eh?

Ten pm arrived and all was agreed. My guests were staying the night and accompanied me with Simba the Labrador in large Range Rover down to the Irish Bar. I think we all knew there was not going to be a quick get out clause to this one. Tony and Mark, by now in high spirits, were of course delighted to see new guests arrive who were quickly furnished with drinks and, most impressively to me, welded themselves effortlessly, youthfully and pleasurably into this 'different' situation.
The bar quickly ran out of the preferred Vodka plus Tony wanted to call it a night having already abandoned his plan of moving on early the following morning.
Into large motor we all pile (yours truly was driving) and twice circumnavigate large roundabout as Mark from rear seat behind me in between expletive loaded comments such as: "I've never sat in the back of this feckin thing and the fecking roof's knockin my head" insisted on being dropped off at his next favourite bar. Meanwhile to my left Tony is imploring me; "Home, home to Pam, please just take me home to Pam".
Mark plus the ever tolerant Simba duly bundled themselves out and barwards head. Tim and Heather also clamber out to enjoy time together while strolling back to Sadie.
Tony is delivered safely, albeit a bit wobbly, back to Pam whereupon snoring is almost immediately heard from rear right hand corner of their trusty Hobby Motorhome.
Large Range Rover is parked up on Mark's driveway and I walk back to clear up Sadie and prepare the large drop down double bed for my guests. Expecting them back at any moment I complete all tasks with not a sign of them. "Awwww, that's lovely". I sigh. "Young lovers eh; probably snuggled up together on the beach", thinks I with tired but pleased smile on my face. I leave the door unlocked and clamber exhausted into my bed at one thirty in the morning.

End of? ..... Oh no! ..... read on.

Two o clock I am outside clad in dressing gown welcoming a highly jovial Mark complete with happy and thankfully somewhat more sober Tim and Heather.
Curled up making love on a beach be dammed. Mark had espied them as they exited Range Rover and dragged them into the bar with him. I have to say they did not look too unhappy with the way their first night with respectable elderly Uncle Steve and his motorhome had turned out. It took another half hour of hilarity before Mark finally decided which way home was and tacked his way one leg to the other in said approximate homeward direction.

Phew! Was I glad to finally feel my head hit the pillow. Last thing I remembered was my morning meditation. "Yup", I muttered, "I been 'is' with plenty of 'is' today alright.

Heather thrashed us all at Boules next day. She and Tim worryingly also disappeared off out to sea in my blow up canoe. They did return and so did Mark. Sober as a judge, smart, amiable and chatty as ever over a mug of coffee. He was especially interested in exactly where I had spotted the large fish during my morning snorkell/swim.
Sshhhhh ..... don't let on!

Tony and Pam? They did move on the next day and I unashamedly admit to being sad watching them go. Three weeks together sharing this lovely La Manga beach. A very special time. Safe travels guys.