Blood, Haircuts & a rubber band.

Things around me were definitely a little hazy as I watched the Dettol and water mix in my washing up bowl turn a deep rosy red from blood pouring profusely out of a wound in my foot. Luckily I had only got a few metres away from Foxy10 when the mischievous and devilishly sharp bamboo spike casually sliced through my soft shoe and travelled deep into the sole of my foot. Poor Tanya looked bemused as she tried to work out what the screaming, and frightening for a wee dog, profanity meant and why we suddenly weren't walking any more.
The shock/trauma factor slowly subsided and shaky hands steadied as they gingerly dried off a still bleeding right foot. An injury to the sole of your foot is a fiendishly difficult part of one's anatomy to see. With leg bent double and foot placed sole up on the bed I could at least see over my right shoulder and ascertain I had a clean puncture wound with no bamboo fragments remaining. Once disinfected, dried and plastered it became apparent that I was not going to be walking or driving anywhere for a few days. Fortunately I was at 'Vilamoura' and only ten minutes from where I was staying with my X Bro in Law Ian and lovely wife Aju. Foxy10, with some difficulty, was returned to her spot outside their luxury apartment which is where I am right now and will be for the next few days as throbbing and painful foot slowly heals.

The incident is ironic as Ian himself, a keen golfer, is also incapacitated due to a groin injury. That's two grumpy and immobile males in one luxury 'Vilamoura' apartment. Strange thing is Aju is getting out of the apartment and playing more golf.
Now I wonder why that is? lol!

We all enjoyed a momentous occasion a few nights ago when we visited 'Chicken Shack' in 'Quarteria'. The place is famous for its no nonsense, sit at benches and tuck in to charcoal grilled whole Piri Piri chicken and chips. Delicious, especially when accompanied with tomato and onion salad. However; the meal, enjoyable as it was, was not the 'momentous'.

The 'momentous', and you're gonna have a good laugh at this, was that for the first time in my 69yr life I sported a pony tail. Ok: so it was a very small one, a bob really, and it was held in place by a small green rubber band but the fact remains. I have finally grown long enough hair at the back for a pony tail.
Mind you I very nearly lost it when I recently went for a haircut. I explained to the lady with my best Portugese 'long here' and 'short there' gestures excactly what I wanted. Well, a dubious looking cubicle right by the 'Tavira' fish market advertising Unisex haircuts for six Euros should maybe have warned me that we were not dealing with a 'Vidal Sassoon' hairdresser here. Five minutes it took her. Five minutes of vigorous scissors and wicked looking razor clicking, scraping and slicing unmercifully to deliver a very short cut to behind the ears where a clear line of definition was left between short hair and long hair.
I Look more like a Mohican I do!
I'm trusting (praying actually) that a couple of weeks growth will soften the effect. No matter though, my long hair at the back is still there and my green rubber band awaits its next outing.
Oh! The simple pleasures of a vain degenerate and aimlessly wandering 69 year old eh!
................
It is now three days on and I am €80.00's poorer having reluctantly been forced to take my rapidly swelling foot to the local GP. Thought I had possibly got away with it but this mornings foot comparison exercise plus visual confirmation from my highly supportive and appreciated hosts told another tale. Oh well: guess a few more days of foot up draped in cool wraps plus a course of antibiotics will have to suffice for now. Poor Tanya though. She is getting a bit fed up of following this new fangled 'hobble very slowly' master round the same old Condominium block.

My hair is growing though and I have the June 8 election via Facebook to keep me amused. You have to admit don't you..... life is sometimes just soooo good....!!!

Teenagers & Toddlers.

So there I was on a quite and abandoned urbanisation road on the edge of 'Espera' village in the rolling plains South of Seville. All of a sudden a motorised scooter complete with gleefully screaming teenage girl hanging onto daring male teenage scooter driver, shoots by, right under my awning which was out giving shade from the hot sun.

"Uh ho! " I said to Tanya; "looks like we've parked in the local village illicit teenage playground". I moved my camping chair to the middle of the awning temporarily stopping their fun before it got too dangerous.

Now I'm not quite sure how it happened but before long we were all, via smartphones and Google translate (which was hilarious!) having a conversation with half of said teenagers sat inside Foxy10 and the others just outside. They were good kids and throughout the evening various of them would pop in, or by, for another attempt at speaking English with the Gringo from Escotia.
The highlight had to be when they all sang 'Happy Birthday' to me and Foxy10 rocked on her wheels with the 'cheerleader' type dancing (and screaming) from the three girls and one boy inside.

This 'fun with the local teenagers' was all purely by chance too as I had driven through the village, noticing its 'Castillo' atop the hill and continued on toward a lake I'd randomly designated as Mrs Sat Navs destination. You can usually find a spot to park up at near lakes.
A minute past 'Espera' village, and a sudden impulsive decision to turn Foxy10 around and head back for a walk to  'Castillo de Fatetar'. Well it was my birthday and  impulsive decisions are a must on such days. (note to self - please try to curb impulsive decision making on other days....they have a habit of getting me into all sorts of scrapes!) An impressive Castillo it was too plus a very steep and hot walk in the 27°c afternoon warmth. These days I usually have to carry Tanya up the steepest bits plus stopping to give her drinks.

My 'Espera' village teenagers have not been the only ones shattering my quiet solo travelling life this last couple of weeks either. I was delighted to host my son Keith and lively, coming up to age four , toddler Kaden for a few days. They flew into Malaga and were soon whisked off to 'Torrox Costa' where I had already sussed out a safe for toddlers beachside camping spot. Hot sun, sandy beach, safe and shallow sea. What more could a toddler need I thought? Well; as it turned out silly Grampy had not sussed that yes, Kaden does love the beach but..

"Grampy Steve, don't you know I live by the beach. I want a playground too".

Foxy10 did her very best at being a playground but violently using the gearstick as a jelly fuelled turbo booster while having to contend with locked steering wheel and verbal limitations to 'DON'T TOUCH THAT ONE' weren't quite hitting the 'I'm an OK toddler' button. We all know of course the opposite, the 'I'm NOT an OK toddler'. World war three plus two adults immediately morphed into slaves alleviating at any cost whatsoever the pending onset of Armageddon itself.

Luck was with us. We set off down the long promenade for a walk and lo and behold wasn't there just the playground to beat all playgrounds right there and free to use plus coffee shop onsite too. Toddler heaven and adult respite! In fact even more. Keith and Justine back in Castlegregory, Co Kerry, Ireland are deep into fund raising for their own village playground having recently, after a three year struggle with officialdom, obtained the go ahead & some funding. Many photos from many angles were taken by Keith as we together assisted one coming up to age four toddler up the 'minimum age six years' tower to the twisty tube slide back to ground floor. Did I, bye the way, mention that toddlers love 'repetition'? To be fair Keith was an impressive and dedicated Dad and not only handled the' playground repetition delicacies' superbly (at least I got my coffee!) but in general made the whole week so easy and such a pleasure for us all. Pangs of sadness touched me as I watched them disappear through airport security at the end of the week.

Normality quickly returned as I tackled the laundry, my goodness that was a big one! Put Foxy10 back together again and headed off to 'Benalmadena Pueblo' and one of my favourite special places. Calm, spiritual energy and peace are always there in abundance from both the alluring cleft in the rock grotto dedicated to Christian themes and the tall Golden topped Buddhist Stupa above. Overall a place of strong and ancient Gaia energy.

Right now I'm stinking!! I'm beachside at the popular Spanish resort of 'Islantilla' not too far from the 'Portuguese' border. I've not washed this morning as the decision is 'Swim' then beachside shower. Such a decadent life eh! I have noticed this year though the manic urge I used to get to swim in every bit of suitable water I came across has subsided. Perhaps it's an age thing. But I notice this morning I keep testing the air temperature then deciding; 'nope, not quite there yet, give it another hour or so'. Nearly time now though. Get clean, refreshed and then I reckon a nice lunch of  'Tostada' and coffee at the beachside cafe.

Got to do it now haven't I Tanya. I mean I've written it up in the blog so got to make it real now. Let me just go sniff that air again........!!