"El Carro" is no longer a wild stallion (my rental car)

 I am the boss of my car at last.  I parallel parked and she slips into reserve on demand. 

Today, I planned out the morning until the plan went awry.  Since Chloe and Awad were arriving for a few days, I needed groceries.  The SuperSol market didn't move.  But my car got confused on the way by missing the roundabout directions...so I was on the highway A-7 toward Fuengirola prematurely.  So, I decided to get off at the next exit, turn around and finish my plan.  Only I got lost trying to get back toward Calahonda.  Ok, the next exit then...Same thing.  When I tried the third exit I ended up in a resort with a Spaniard guiding me backwards (yes, I mastered "reverse"!)  Once back on the A-7, I shook my head and decided to just drive to the city.  Despite waiting for many hours, I wanted to be in the city to alleviate stress.

Almost there, I remembered the car's rental contract, my international driver's license and the photos of the street map were on my iPad.  And they were still at home.  I was just going to get groceries, you see.  With thumping heart, I visualized being stopped by the Guardia Civil and I wouldn't have my paperwork but I was nearing Fuengirola by then.  I had my Arizona license at least and I was driving "slow and easy."  And I found my way to the street near the train station just fine.

Once parked, I went into La Campesina and ordered breakfast.  Tostada de mantequilla con mermelada (toast with butter and marmalade), cafe con leche and jugo de naranja (orange juice.)  I figured I could sit there for a couple of hours and write my notes... It was delicious.  I ordered a second cup of coffee.  And I asked the girl where I could find a street map (in Spanish no less).  She grinned and pointed across the street toward the Oficina Turismo.  Was I ever in luck.

And then movement out of the corner of my eye showed a woman putting money into a machine, taking a white ticket and placing it on the dash of her car.  Uh-oh.  Parking fee.  I'd been sitting there over half an hour already.  I rushed through my coffee and jumped up to get a ticket.  Really?  I had no idea how to work the machine.  There was a man leaning against a car nearby and I asked if he could help me?  He said he'd only used it once and told me to put in my license number and pay.  (Again, really?)  I moved to the machine and it felt like an alien to me.  Then, two Spanish women came up to get a ticket and I looked over their shoulder...asking my typical line, ayudame por favor (help me please).  They spoke a little English, but not much.  She showed me which buttons to push as if I was a five-year old but I didn't care.  I thought I had it.  I pulled out a 5 euro note and they both said, "No...coins."  Oh.  They walked away saying, "one and one."  I took a breath and started the machine.   Ok, I tapped the 1.  Then I tapped 1 again.  I added my license number.  The euro amounts came up on the screen, so I knew the amount of coins would tell the machine how long I wanted.  The max was 3-1/2 hours, so I did that.  It took four tries to get it right.  There on the sidewalk, when the ticket printed out, I was so excited, I raised both hands in the air like a football referred for a touchdown and yelled, "YAY!"

The Englishman clapped and I gave him a thumbs up.  After placing it carefully on my dash, I took a walk toward the beach with my new map.

One of the problems I'd been fighting with was trying to get those blasted coins out of my little cross-over purse when I needed them.  So, my first purchase had to be a small coin purse.  I found it on the first try... and felt the bounce come back in my walk.  Down toward the Mediterranean Sea along with lots of other people and there it was, shining, welcoming and waiting.

And I walked some more.  I saw signs for bars for sale, water fountains shaped like fish, miles of shops and all the while, the sea was on my right.  I saw a woman on a scooter with three flats of eggs braced between her feet.  When I'd walked for a long time, I found a cool bench and rested.  Within minutes an older couple plunked down next to me.  And they spoke Spanish.  One of the little disappointments I was thrashing around with in my head was that I missed the little villages like Los Nuñez and Algondales with all their quaint village-appeal and Spanish-speaking locals.  So, when these unsuspecting people sat down, I pounced on them... And I was thrilled because we actually TALKED in Spanish for nearly half an hour.  I understood about 60%-70% of their words!  I felt like I was walking on air when I left them.  It was happening!  Speaking Spanish (thanks again, Janet R.)

After more mind-chatter, I decided to go back home, get groceries and then return to Fuengirola to get Chloe tonight, without bumming around the boardwalk for six more hours.  So, I studied my map, overshot my street by about ten blocks and wound my way back toward the train station where I'd left the car.  On the way, I found a park, sat in the shade and heard a tapping sound.  Curious, I moved closer and saw several groups of people playing a game with balls.  It looked similar to the Italian Bocci ball.   When I asked, it was a woman from Finland who answered and she gave me the name of the game in Finlandia.  I asked another woman and she gave me the name in Spanish.  I could not understand either.. They were having fun though.

I was back in the game.  I found my way out of town.  I found my way onto the highway.  I found the grocery store.  I found the house again.  And then I jumped back in the car at 7 pm and did it all over again.  This time, I decided to just sit in the car three blocks from the train station instead of paying to park and killing time walking around.  However, there was a man with a bright lime-green vest on who seemed to be taking a particular interest in the cars as he walked along.  He had a little machine thingy on his belt and I realized he must be the parking police!  So, out I jumped now that I was a pro at the machine, got my ticket and gave him a smile as I put it on my dash.

By now, I was walking toward the train station and passed my breakfast cafe again.  When I was eating this morning, I'd paid close attention to a man selling lottery tickets.  This time, I stopped.  There was a Spanish woman ahead of me.  Bright purple and red striped leggings, red boots and gray sweater.  She was at least ninety years old and cute as a pixie.  She showed me how to buy the ticket.  So, now I have a lottery ticket and plan to win the million or so euros tonight...although it wouldn't be fair since this little lady helped me.  I tried to tell her I'd split it with her but she just smiled and shook her head, not understanding a word.

An hour later, I was being bear-hugged by sweet Chloe and kissed on each cheek by her boyfriend, Awad.  He has the biggest smile and the kindest eyes I've seen since I arrived in Spain.  And they are smitten with each other.  Loved every minute, drove us back to Calahonda, shared wine, conversation, dinner and I can hardly wait to share the next few days with them.  Life is so good.