Today was a lazy day and I must admit that getting in and out of the pool and then slipping into the lounge chair as my swimsuit dripped onto the patio was some of my Tuesday excitement. I’m half way through my third book and feel very peaceful... As I begin my blog tonight, it’s 9:00 pm already as Lyn and I have been chatting after dinner. She just filled my wine glass with rosé. We are both glad to be home from Benalmádena after picking up her new laptop computer. (My eyes nearly bugged out when I saw all the Microsoft Office programs that her internet tech loaded for her.)
Since it was a lazy day, I must say the gist of today’s blog will be about Spanish roads. First of all, the main road is the A7, which connects most of the large towns along the coast from Almería on the east to beyond Marbella and Gibraltar on the west coast. I know it might go farther, but I’ve not followed it beyond Gibraltar.
There is a road between the A7 and where I now sit that I call the “monster” road. It is a small paved road that snakes along the riverbed from Puerto de la Torre downward towards Los Nuñez. It has always made my stomach hurt whether I turn sharply to go UP the road toward the A7 roundabout connection or head downward after the roundabout to go back to the round house. There have been times when my brother Steven has driven the road that I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t driving. There were times when my friend Steven Alonzo was driving (I tried to warn him, but I don’t think he believed me until he was actually on the road behind the wheel.). And then there were times (last week) when I started winding down the road on my own. Spanish drivers do not slow down, even when they see me coming. I think there are five or six blind curves where I slow down to about 10 mph or stop, fearful of what I’ll encounter when I make the turn. Last week, I was thrilled that I encountered only one man walking along the crazy road and one bicycle.
Today, when Lyn drove us back home from Benalmádena, my stomach was in my throat a few times and I told her that tonight’s blog was about the road that I call the monster road. The road twists and turns and in some places it is barely wide enough for two Volkswagens or smart cars to maneuver along side each other. Lyn has a van. I counted seven cars that were coming at us on crazy turns and blind curves. I held my breath, my stomach tightened up and whoosh, I let out a loud breath as the cars tootled by us. And that’s when we started encountering the bicyclists, each wearing a helmet, tight little race pants, water bottles, cell phones and riding three or four abreast in places. By then,
my heart was hammering because this road doesn’t widen until we are nearly to the end before Los Nuñez, where I am staying with Lyn.
Needless to say, she drove like a champ and drove us home safely where Scamp and Scally jumped and yapped uproariously when they saw me jump out of the van to open the gate so Lyn could drive down the drive. They knew food would be forthcoming and I was counting my steps until I found the wine.
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