Rainbows in the Rock 34

Printer-friendly version

CHAPTER 34
It was the first time I had ever flown, and all too obviously the first time I had experienced the other joys of an airport, especially the other passengers. I know that my home is in a prime tourist area, but this was something completely different. Our flight left mid morning, so Mrs Edwards drove us across country well before dawn, leaving us with a hug after ensuring we were properly checked-in and queuing for the security controls, and also leaving us with a collection of people who seemed to have abandoned all taste, if they had ever owned any in the first place.

We got through those security checks reasonably quickly, and then went to find somewhere to sit and wait. There was a sort-of-pub there, and many of our fellow travellers were already drinking. From the number of empty glasses in front of some of them, it was a task they were approaching with more than a little focus and determination, even as the ability to focus on everything else disappeared. There was a branch of Addison’s nearby, and as we paid for a couple of their ‘meal deals’, I asked the cashier, Grazyna according to her name badge, about the drinking.

She sighed, shaking her head.

“The Summer, it is the worst, but it is all day that they drink. We open at four in the morning, and the beer is their breakfast. Many times, they do not leave in an aeroplane but in a police car”

She laughed, suddenly.

“When I first came to work here, that place was where! This place, it is an escape. I still see the drunks, but even this twenty metres of space, it is better than no metres and the hand on my arse. Where are you flying to, ladies? I need a boarding card for the sale”

Alys answered for us, and Grazyna chuckled.

“I will wait, then, till you add some ear plugs to your basket. Those flights can be very, very noisy”

We took her advice, and as we sat at the gate an hour later, and the sound of screaming kids and well-refreshed and over-loud conversations washed over us, I understood.

Alys was a little pensive, though, so I had to ask.

“Security, love. I was a bit worried…”

Once more, I was given a little lesson to broaden my understanding of her world, and when it was time to board and take our seats, I made sure that she got the window seat so that there was a little more space between her and the fat woman in the vest who slumped into the aisle seat and almost immediately started snoring.

Why on Earth were we doing this?

Take-off was on time, and as we rose through a solid layer of cloud, I realised I wouldn’t be seeing anything interesting for quite a while. As three children continued to scream, Alys and I popped in our earplugs and I settled my head on her shoulder, feeling the effects of our early start. I woke up a couple of times, but all I could see from my seat was ocean. Each time, I settled back against Alys, who was also dozing. I was utterly disoriented when she shook me awake, with a murmur of “Land, love!”, and leant as far back in her seat as she could so that I could see the huge volcano for the first time in its reality rather than pictures.

The cabin crew were bustling around, one of them prodding Mrs Snorey awake as they checked belts, seat backs and stowage before heading for the front of the plane. I found myself surprisingly nervous as we settled down towards the dry land beneath us, and I believe it was the sense of being out of any sort of control, having to trust someone I couldn’t even see, and then, with a bang and some even louder screams from the brat section, we were down and rolling.

Queue once more to get off, queue again for passport control, and then into the baggage reclaim hall, where Alys tugged me to one side while we let the other passengers almost literally fight for space at the belt.

“Just let them get theirs, love, and then we can take our time. We’re in no rush, and there’s a regular bus”

A hint that she had spent more time than me on research that didn’t involve hills. We found a patch of wall to lean against, until the feeding frenzy eased, and then we collected our bags, before heading out to the bus stops, Alys utterly in the lead and in charge for once as I just went with her flow.

It was a little bit of a walk from the other end of the bus trip, but she had grabbed a paper map from the tourist information stand at the airport, and we were eventually at the resort, apartment complex, group of buildings, hotel, whatever, which consisted of a number of rather grim-looking blocks around a swimming pool. I found myself looking at the water with far more interest than I had expected, as while there was quite a strong breeze blowing, and we were heading for evening, it was extremely hot. As we checked in, there was a squeal from the doorway to the pool area, and there was Sali, in one of the smallest bikinis I had ever seen.

“Yay! I’ll show you where we are, then it’s changed, and into the pool! And it’s paella night, and happy hour in… ninety minutes! Hope you brought your best cossies”

The receptionist sighed, obviously all too used to that sort of behaviour and the clothing that accompanied it, and we were off, almost at a trot before reining Sali in by indicating the luggage we were lugging with us. The apartment proved to be quite a decent one, three bedrooms, a shower/toilet and a kitchen off a large living room which opened onto a wide balcony with garden chairs stacked at one end.

No, not a shower that doubled as a toilet, but a small room which held both.

Sali pushed and pushed until we had changed into our ‘cossies’, and her disappointment was obvious when she saw that we had both gone for one-piece items.

“Boring!”

Alys shook her head.

“Think about it, Sali: I can’t exactly go all skimpy yet, can I?”

“Oh shit! Sorry—didn’t think! What have you done, you know, with…?”

“Extra pair of bottoms on. Control knickers. Bit uncomfortable at first, but it settles down. Now, paella night?”

“Yeah, bar round the corner, Elen found it on the net. Do all sorts of different paellas and tapas and stuff, she says, so we are starting our holiday proper there”

I looked across at Alys before turning back to Sali.

“The pool not the holiday proper, then?”

“Na, pool’s a pool. Tomorrow it’s the beach, but tonight it’s all oh-lay, oh-lay, oh-lay!”

Alys put on her innocent face.

“An egg restaurant, then?”

If there was ever anything I loved her for, apart from the simple fact of her existence, it would always be her dead-pan delivery of dreadful jokes. We followed Sali back down the stairs and across what seemed like acres of concrete covered in sun loungers, and then bliss! The water was delightful, despite being chlorinated, and after a few token attempts at lengths, the two of us just settled into a slump against the pool side as our friends went through curtailed ritual greetings before turning back to the various boys swarming round them. It seemed no time at all before Elen and Sali were once more chivvying us back to the room to dress again, ‘Happy Hour’ clearly pressing its claims on them.

For once, I was in a dress, as I really wanted as much air around me as I could get, given the heat, and I was grateful the venue wasn’t too far away. And while I was impressed with the lay-out, a very large terrace with umbrella-shaded tables surrounding an open plan inner building, I couldn’t help wincing at the signs. Neil had always said that he avoided anywhere that needed to put pictures of food up so that people could have a better guess of what to order, and that place had them everywhere. Colin clearly spotted my wince, and laughed.

“Like a bloody kebab shop, Enfys! At least this place tells you what the ingredients are, unlike bloody doners”

Sali leant round him from the other side, where she was cuddled up.

“Yes, and I do believe you have a doner grill in your Dad’s shop, love!”

Colin laughed, and it was a happy sound, one I warmed to.

“Yes, LOVE, but even me and him don’t know what goes into it! We just cook it, carve it and sell it”

Alys sniffed.

“Caveat emptor, then. Let the buyer and his guts beware. What are we drinking? And I fancy gazpacho and seafood paella!”

A waiter pushed some tables together for us, and in a vert few minutes we had several large jugs on those tables, filled with chunks of fruit in sangria. Elen poured, and Nea raised a glass to us.

“No more school, no more exams, we are on holiday and the sun is shining! Good health to all!”

The drink was a delight, but it came with a subtle hint of the alcohol that lurked behind the sweetness. The part about ‘no more exams’ clearly didn’t apply to two or more of us, but never mind. We were here, the sun was indeed warm, and despite the noise and traffic fumes, as well as the others around us, it remained a holiday for us, as in me and my lover. All I could ever need was sitting beside me, poking good-natured fun at Colin about catering products, while resting one hand on my knee.

I took a while to look around the group, remembering the quick exchange between Colin and Sali involving THAT word, and it was a real mix. So many obvious pairings, while Warren had eyes that wandered across the whole of the restaurant. I had clearly missed an awful lot of class gossip and dynamics in my focus on Alys.

Sali was limpeting to Colin, while Susan W was hanging off Geth’s arm. Nea was similarly attached to Tomos, Sue J to Ioan, and Cerys and Elen were scanning the passing men, just as Warren…

Oh.

up
88 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Huh?

All sorts of unexplained items here, most of which seem to be food related, but may not be. Explainations would be nice.

Oh, word to the wise. It's not a good idea to wait until the end to pickup your luggage, it might disappear in the meantime in all the hussle and bussle of tourists, luggage delivery services, and larcenous locals. You'll only do it once before your bag disappears, never to be seen again.

Voice of experience.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Items of confusion

First, baggage: two girls on their first ever trip away by plane will use whatever logic makes sense at the time. Your advice reminded me of the late P.J. O'Rourke's dictum that old age and guile beat youth and a bad haircut.

Comestibles: I will assume you mean paella, tapas, sangria and doner kebabs.

Paella: a Valencian rice dish traditionally cooked in a wide, flat pan over a fire of grapevine roots. It comes in various interpretations, usually involving a few whole shell-on prawns in the sea-food variety
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paella

Sangria is a 'long drink' version of red wine mixed with fruit. It is amazingly popular with Brit tourists in the Canaries and other Spanish resorts, and is associated with fat gammons burning shirtless and asleep in the sun.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sangria

Tapas are small plates of various dishes, served together. A small portion of the dish is 'tapa', a full plate a 'racion', and the word 'tapas' is usually applied to a meal of multiple small dishes shared between companions. I have eaten glorious tapas in Majorca, in both bars and a famous celler. The last are barns with trestle tables and bench seating, where you simply find a space to sit amongst strangers and eat as much tapas as you like, brought by a waitron who keeps a tab running..
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tapas

Doner kebabs, as I have described before, are sold all over the world in various interpretations, and are also known as 'gyros' and 'shoarma'. The UK version consists of long strips of meat-related product grilled on a vertical spit (aka 'elephant's leg') and served in a much-too-small pitta with masses of mixed salad (mostly shredded cabbage and strips of white Spanish onion) together with pickled chilli peppers and chilli sauce. It is the sort of meal that only makes sense if one is rather drunk (or, as Wiki coyly puts it, 'after a night out'), when it becomes irresistible. Mostly sold by Turkish takeaways in the UK. Reading the Wiki article, I was surprised to find there is a Mexican version, using pork, called 'al pastor'.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doner_kebab

As ever, GIYF.

By UK Standards

joannebarbarella's picture

It's a long flight to Teneriffe...about 4 1/2 hours, so going cattle class, which the girls obviously were, is a bit of an ordeal, still, I guess it was cheap.

I hope the volcano stays dormant while they're there.