Life in a Northern Town*

 

A Journey Faraway and Back Again (Part I)

 

by Lothar Marthaler

 

Call me Ismael…- I was having some BBQ with some friends as my mobile disturbed the perfect mood, but the news seem to be good (beware they are no good news after midnight).

A mate called me and told me that he split with his girlfriend and because of this he is in trouble. My first thought - she kicked him out and he is looking for a shelter to rest and reorganize his life. I have to admit I was totally wrong.

HE was the one who pulled the emergency brake and split up straight before their holiday. It was too late to cancel the booking and he was looking for somebody to accompany.  When the question came, I was unprepared but drew fast and shot from the hip before a single question could come to my mind. I had no fixed plans for my vacation and it wasn’t to bad, 2 weeks in Spain Costa Brava or so; pick-up same day 4pm, flight 6pm and arrival 8pm means I would be laying in the light surf of the med sea by the afternoon and before I could get more details my mobile went flat.  I had booked a trip to Spain without looking in a catalogue or seeing a travel agency from inside; that’s what they call last minute surprise travel.

I went home in a swinging mood dreaming about the sea and the moon, the beach and surf; beautiful girls and fun; bonfire and Spanish eyes reflecting the flames. Yeah, life could be soooo marvellous. Sixteen hours countdown to bring the missile on the ramp shouldn’t be a problem. When I woke up the sun was high and the shadow low, the bells from the nearby church were ringing – High Noon and only four hours to go. I can hear your advice – credit card and toothbrush is all you need and the second one is a nice to have – and I know, but you like to have some fancy clothes with you; the cool shorts and the shirts with the psychedelic pattern and …

I stuffed everything in my aluminium suitcase - the one the manufacturer guarantees that the content would survive an atomic war and things like that - , I grabbed my sunglasses and some cash and was ready to take off when the door bell rang.

The first second I thought a stranger was trying to steal my suitcase.  Wrangling with this guy I recognized that it was only the driver trying to carry it to the car.  Shaded windows and comfortable 19 °C (66  Fahrenheit)  we hit the road and the first fist hit me. I did not see it coming I did not even have a clue as my mate briefed me about the trip. We were flying with low-cost carrier (no reserved seats, no refreshments) and it was a 4star-plus hotel all-inclusive (okay, you don’t have to take it all) and the real heavy stuff he was planning to do was some cultural stuff in the town I never heard before. The journey was as expected, the plane flew us to Spain and the cab drove us to the hotel.  The only little thing you could but you did not have to complain about was the fact that my high-tech atomic-proof lifelong-guarantee suitcase was not delivered at the Spanish airport.  They promised to deliver the next day and did not even hand over an emergency bag (Thank God for the toothbrush in my pocket).

The hotel was a real “surprise booking” and therefore we did not have a room with a view. No, it was not without windows, we even had a small balcony with one chair and a concrete wall across the small road with Coke advertising painted before the Spanish civil war, or at least it looked like that. I did not mind at all as I had still the beach on my mind and the next morning I was happy as we were merely disturbed by the rattling of the trash cans being emptied around 05:30H while the rooms with the view were under constant bombardment of noise from the rattling trains passing by every 30min starting around 04:30 (I found out trying to cross these tracks one morning after a long confrontation with a few bottles of Spanish wine).

Our quiet rooms became a disadvantage when we came down for breakfast believing we are residing in a 4-star plus residence. The buffet was almost eaten clean by the people on the railway side and the coffee was slightly darker than the light brown cups it was served in.

It looked like that the first star of the rating was a white dwarf.  We moved over to the coffee bar in the neighbourhood for a double espresso and a bite to recover. And by the way it was an Italian barrista running this coffee shop but Spanish breakfast is the best in the world (next month you will discover why - perhaps you should call me nevertheless – Ismael.

 

 

* Title borrowed from a song by The Dream Academy

“Call me Ismael” H. Melville, Moby Dick. chap 1, p. 1