It's 28 kilometers from Pliego to Archena. The trip there should take about 30 minutes. Margarita, our niece was dancing at ten that night and we were meeting the family to watch the show. We'd wanted to see her perform for a long time. She started on her flamenco career when she was just a child and had turned professional, so we were both thrilled that she and her troupe would be performing in a town close to us. Since said town was reputed to be charming, we decided to leave Pliego early so we'd have the chance to explore a bit before the event.
At 8 p.m. we hopped in the car for the short jaunt to Archena. All was well until we hit the detour. This was no ordinary detour, at least not according to Canadian standards. This was 'A DETOUR'. It traversed a desolate landscape....barren countryside, untouched by rain for months on end. There were no cars, no houses, absolutely no signs of life. The road wound through small hills where vegetation was almost nonexistent. It was eerie but at the same time strangely beautiful. The road was long! Very, very long. At times we were convinced that we were lost and frightened ourselves by imagining we might drive forever in this strange, desert-like world of endless ups and downs. We drove and drove and drove some more. Beginning to despair. Finally, at 9:20 we saw a few houses and a sign that read 'Archena 25 kilometres'. How was that possible? It was originally 28 kilometres from our village, and after driving almost an hour and a half, it was another 25 kilometres? What kind of detour was that? Things were not turning out as we'd planned and we were starting to worry. The family was waiting for us and we were running late. We'd assumed we'd be able to cover the distance in half an hour, but we were learning not to take anything for granted on this trip.
A small village appeared in the distance. We could see a lot of activity on the main street but couldn't make out what was happening. As we approached, we found that the road was blocked because of a village festival. A parade was making its way down the main drag and that of course meant we couldn't go straight through the town. Another detour. It was just too much. We looked at each other, completely overwhelmed by the circumstances and did what anyone would do in the situation...we burst out laughing. Everything was conspiring against us. It was just so ludicrous. Our chuckles turned into loud guffaws. I snorted unintentionally causing J.P.'s shoulders to shake as he howled with laughter. A police officer was allowing cars one at a time through a barricade, to protect the masses of pedestrians. Painfully, slowly, we inched forward, stomachs aching from belly laughs, tears streaming down our cheeks, giggling all the way. At long last, we made it through the barrier.....and floored it.
9:55! Archena! We made it with five minutes to spare! Park the car! Run! Hearts pounding we arrived at the venue and took our seats with Francine and Martin, Maggie's proud parents, and made our excuses. The setting was breathtaking. Our hearts calmed, our breathing slowed. We were in a beautiful courtyard. Around us, romantic lighting; above us, tall palms, and in the black sky, a perfectly full moon. The air was balmy and warm; the voices hushed.
In front of us the performers, two dancers and three guitarists (one a woman who also sang splendidly). Oh, the music, oh, the dancing. Astonishing, sensational, jaw-dropping. There is nothing like flamenco well done. The strength, the control, the fluidity. The passion of the performance overwhelmed me. I looked at Margarita with new eyes and saw that the years of training and her natural talent had conspired to produce a sensational dancer. The combination of the music, the singing and the dancing was perfect and at times I found myself holding my breath.
Nature however, was calling and even though I wanted to sit there and watch, I desperately needed to visit the W.C. Reluctantly I made my way through the courtyard into the lobby of the charming, old hotel and began my search. I found it at last but had to wait in a short line. Finally, it was my turn. I tugged at the heavy antique, wooden door, went inside and tried to lock it. The bolt wouldn't go into the slot, so I pushed the door open again, and tried to slide the lock to see if it worked. It did. Closing the door, I shoved the bolt....hard. Mission accomplished. The dimly-lit bathroom was hot and stuffy and smelled like someone had smoked multiple cigarettes inside. "That's okay. I'll be out of here in a minute," I thought. Finishing my business, I washed my hands and went to open the door. The lock was jammed. I wrestled with it for half a minute, but it didn't budge. Hot, so hot in there. I called out, "Hay alguien?" (Is anyone there?) "Hola?" No answer. "Hola? Hay alguien? Hola?" Nothing. Everyone was obviously outside watching the performance. I was alone in the semi-darkness. Starting to sweat, heart pounding, I said a quick prayer. "Father, help me please. Get me out of here, please!" I struggled with the lock again, all the time calling out for help, but there was no one and it was impossible to undo the lock. Praying and praying, sweat running down my back, I jerked the lock again and again, to no avail. "Okay, don't panic. Calm down. Take a breath and look around to see if there's anything that will help open door." I turned and for the first time, noticed two long cupboard-like doors set into the bathroom wall. It looked like they could be opened. Maybe there was something in there that could help in my escape! I turned the small handles, opened the doors and stared. What I saw made no sense. I blinked. There was another wall behind the cupboard doors! Panic set in again. This was a nightmare come to life! But wait. There were more handles set into the wall. Desperately, I turned them and behind there was a HUGE WINDOW! It was up fairly high on the wall, but completely open! Hallelujah! Thank you, Lord! I stretched my legs as high as I could, up and over the sill...I did it! I made it; the fresh air a gift like none other.
At 8 p.m. we hopped in the car for the short jaunt to Archena. All was well until we hit the detour. This was no ordinary detour, at least not according to Canadian standards. This was 'A DETOUR'. It traversed a desolate landscape....barren countryside, untouched by rain for months on end. There were no cars, no houses, absolutely no signs of life. The road wound through small hills where vegetation was almost nonexistent. It was eerie but at the same time strangely beautiful. The road was long! Very, very long. At times we were convinced that we were lost and frightened ourselves by imagining we might drive forever in this strange, desert-like world of endless ups and downs. We drove and drove and drove some more. Beginning to despair. Finally, at 9:20 we saw a few houses and a sign that read 'Archena 25 kilometres'. How was that possible? It was originally 28 kilometres from our village, and after driving almost an hour and a half, it was another 25 kilometres? What kind of detour was that? Things were not turning out as we'd planned and we were starting to worry. The family was waiting for us and we were running late. We'd assumed we'd be able to cover the distance in half an hour, but we were learning not to take anything for granted on this trip.
A small village appeared in the distance. We could see a lot of activity on the main street but couldn't make out what was happening. As we approached, we found that the road was blocked because of a village festival. A parade was making its way down the main drag and that of course meant we couldn't go straight through the town. Another detour. It was just too much. We looked at each other, completely overwhelmed by the circumstances and did what anyone would do in the situation...we burst out laughing. Everything was conspiring against us. It was just so ludicrous. Our chuckles turned into loud guffaws. I snorted unintentionally causing J.P.'s shoulders to shake as he howled with laughter. A police officer was allowing cars one at a time through a barricade, to protect the masses of pedestrians. Painfully, slowly, we inched forward, stomachs aching from belly laughs, tears streaming down our cheeks, giggling all the way. At long last, we made it through the barrier.....and floored it.
9:55! Archena! We made it with five minutes to spare! Park the car! Run! Hearts pounding we arrived at the venue and took our seats with Francine and Martin, Maggie's proud parents, and made our excuses. The setting was breathtaking. Our hearts calmed, our breathing slowed. We were in a beautiful courtyard. Around us, romantic lighting; above us, tall palms, and in the black sky, a perfectly full moon. The air was balmy and warm; the voices hushed.
In front of us the performers, two dancers and three guitarists (one a woman who also sang splendidly). Oh, the music, oh, the dancing. Astonishing, sensational, jaw-dropping. There is nothing like flamenco well done. The strength, the control, the fluidity. The passion of the performance overwhelmed me. I looked at Margarita with new eyes and saw that the years of training and her natural talent had conspired to produce a sensational dancer. The combination of the music, the singing and the dancing was perfect and at times I found myself holding my breath.
Nature however, was calling and even though I wanted to sit there and watch, I desperately needed to visit the W.C. Reluctantly I made my way through the courtyard into the lobby of the charming, old hotel and began my search. I found it at last but had to wait in a short line. Finally, it was my turn. I tugged at the heavy antique, wooden door, went inside and tried to lock it. The bolt wouldn't go into the slot, so I pushed the door open again, and tried to slide the lock to see if it worked. It did. Closing the door, I shoved the bolt....hard. Mission accomplished. The dimly-lit bathroom was hot and stuffy and smelled like someone had smoked multiple cigarettes inside. "That's okay. I'll be out of here in a minute," I thought. Finishing my business, I washed my hands and went to open the door. The lock was jammed. I wrestled with it for half a minute, but it didn't budge. Hot, so hot in there. I called out, "Hay alguien?" (Is anyone there?) "Hola?" No answer. "Hola? Hay alguien? Hola?" Nothing. Everyone was obviously outside watching the performance. I was alone in the semi-darkness. Starting to sweat, heart pounding, I said a quick prayer. "Father, help me please. Get me out of here, please!" I struggled with the lock again, all the time calling out for help, but there was no one and it was impossible to undo the lock. Praying and praying, sweat running down my back, I jerked the lock again and again, to no avail. "Okay, don't panic. Calm down. Take a breath and look around to see if there's anything that will help open door." I turned and for the first time, noticed two long cupboard-like doors set into the bathroom wall. It looked like they could be opened. Maybe there was something in there that could help in my escape! I turned the small handles, opened the doors and stared. What I saw made no sense. I blinked. There was another wall behind the cupboard doors! Panic set in again. This was a nightmare come to life! But wait. There were more handles set into the wall. Desperately, I turned them and behind there was a HUGE WINDOW! It was up fairly high on the wall, but completely open! Hallelujah! Thank you, Lord! I stretched my legs as high as I could, up and over the sill...I did it! I made it; the fresh air a gift like none other.
