So via a friend of a friend (you get my jist), we ‘borrowed’ a car to use for the duration of our short stay in lovely La Romana. With quite a long list of things to do during our stay, we were hugely grateful for the use of the vehicle. It did give us a source of enjoyment and we frequently had bets on whether it would start or not…. which in fact it did – every time.
Over the past few months, Darren and I have been squirrelling things away for the house – recycling where possible – or should I say upcycling which is now the favourable term. Anyway, I had arranged to collect what was sold to me as a double mattress as all we had in our Spanish house was a set of bunk beds and a blow up mattress – none of which have any appeal to me. We spent one night – out of absolute bear-grills necessity – on the blow up bed and that was quite enough. Blow up beds are surprisingly noisy and Darren and I spent the night looking at each other in quite an accusatory manner fearing that the noise had in fact come from somewhere else. He assured me that it was the bed. I just enjoyed making noises, and blaming it on the bed! I do make my own little scenarios up and am often found chuckling away to myself – and in fact I probably look quite mad. Which I’m not. Well not all the time anyway.
Back to the mattress. Now that we had wheels (of a description), we thought we would take the boys out for a spin around the area – well that’s what we told them anyway. The truth was that they were being comandeered unwillingly to assist with the collection of the aforementioned mattress from a neighbouring village. All paid for – just needed collecting. Simple. Or so we thought.
Slight problem when we set off. I’m so used to Darren’s car in the UK having roof bars, that it didn’t occur to me that the car in Spain would be void of these! Which it was of course. Plan B. Rope. And lots of it. Easy – we’ll just strap the mattress (afterall its only a double) to the car roof and all will be fine. Not.
We all had a nice pleasant drive out. All in good humour. We had water. And we had wheels. The pool was proving a problem, but that’s another story!
The village was found reasonably easily, though the house less so. As is the way in Spain, everyone just vanishes from the streets – except of course for that dear old man who’s always to be found sitting on a bench or at a bus stop wearing a tweed jacket and hat (despite the heat), smoking on his pipe and passing the time of day. Why is this? Afternoons are always for siestas – which I rather like. But what about evenings? Where is everyone then? We splattered and spluttered to a halt outside the house where the mattress was located and roused its occupants – though I supsect they had probably heard us from miles away – the car did make a lot of not-going-to-start-again noises – as already mentioned.
We’re here to collect the mattress I announce rather jovily to the bemused people now stood at the front door – thankfully they were English so no mad gesticulating hand movements or speaking v-e-r- y slowly required. Darren and I went into the house and tried to pick up the ‘double’ mattress – which in fact we now know to be a large kingsize. We shuffled and groaned and dragged and pulled this blasted mattress out to the street where my two sons were gobsmacked by the spectacle – though not quite sure why as (a) did they think the mattress would come in a small carrier bag, and (b) surely by now they are used to a mother such as myself? ‘Encouraging’ them in to help is a bit like herding cats. Bribery. That always works. So – bribery in place (tho I cant remember what form of ‘persuasion’ was used that time – may have been something to do with the (blasted) pool that was refusing to behave – seems a theme this trip me thinks?), we tackled the mattress.
lazydaysinspain 