The Tormentas! Beware the Tormentas!

[gerardcarey]

It sure hit me unexpectedly.
The wind and water was accompanied by a high pitched howl. It lashed at me powerfully. I was quickly drenched by the freezing water. I stumbled. My feet went out from under me and down I crashed. I sprawled, dizzy and disorientated, freezing in the mist and lashing water.
Now I'm in trouble.

Well I couldn't say I hadn't been warned.
The Tormentas.
I'd read about them in Jack Hitt's book "Off The Road. A Modern-Day Walk Down the Pilgrim's Route into Spain."
Jack got caught by one as he crossed the meseta.
Suddenly the clouds boiled above. Rain pelted down. Lightning bolts crashed to the ground around him.
I'd also seen a weather presenter on Spanish TV addressing a weather map of northern Spain. He pointed at a small black cloud with a yellow zig-zag lightning bolt on it.
"Tormentas!" he said meaningfully.

"We are going to stay at the Hotel Paris in Leon," Julie said. "Looking forward to that. A little luxury for a change. It's a bit exy but you get the use of the spa facilities."
Women, they like that spa deal don't they?
Relaxing in a fizzy hot tub with perhaps a glass of wine.
Boring, I reckon. Whatever. To each, his or her own.
Ok if you're there with your lovely I suppose, but it is a long time since I've been that lucky.
Seems to be quite well known amongst female pilgrims does the Hotel Paris in Leon. I'd walked past it in on my way up that main street that leads to the Cathedral.

Looking back what I probably should have done is utilise that kind of money for a treat at the Leon Parador. I'd been told that you were able to book the room that Tom had taken. The one in the movie 'The Way', where Tom, Joost, Jack and Sarah had, after all their inter-personal differences, happily celebrated their new found pilgrim family friendship. That would be fun eh?

But now, here I am in Leon, in my room at the Hotel Boccalino, thoroughly confused.
Initially I was thoroughly impressed.
30 Euros for a 3rd floor modernish twin bedded room on my own, with an ensuite bathroom. Room to spread out and relax, a window over the city, a warm breeze billowing the curtains in, a good hand basin for the laundry, and just outside, a place to hang it in the sunshine.
Perfecto! This'll do me. What more could you need for a treat after an albergue every night since Burgos? And I’m only five minutes from the Cathedral and my pilgrim mates are gathering here for dinner tonight at the Boccalino’s restaurant. And the Boccalino is just across a plaza from the 'must see' Basilica of San Isidoro. So, all good.

First things first. Empty the pack across the spare bed, strip off my clothes, grab my toiletry bag, and off for a shower. Big fluffy hotel towels. That's what I call luxury.
It was then I became confused.
Now I know I’m technologically challenged type of guy, but I thought I could at least handle a shower. But then I’m a lever type of guy. The more you pull it out the more flow you get. Twist it one way and it gets hotter, to the other cooler. All very simple, right?

There I am, standing in the nuddy in the shower, confronted by a one piece spa type shower. A plastic wall covered with chrome pointy jets aiming at me from all directions. I have an uneasy feeling. I especially don’t like the look of those jets that pointy up from down below.
Apart from that it had a bewildering operating system, with no instructions. I guess the best thing is just to fiddle with the buttons until you figure it out.

It was then the blizzard struck!
So cold it took my breath away. So strong up my derriere it made me jump and thereby loose my footing. Sat me on my butt on the tiled floor.
I could feel that I'd wrenched a hip muscle. This necessitated that I must first struggle to my hands and knees, then crawl outside the shower and across the bathroom floor to where I could utilise the handbasin to haul myself upright.
The blizzard had by now migrated out into the bathroom proper. The floor was awash and water was about to flow into the bedroom. I forced myself back into the maelstrom and beat furiously on the control panel. But it was some time before I got the flow stopped.

I didn’t want to look, but I had to.
There was a waterfall flowing out into the bedroom proper. The tide was advancing steadily across the carpeted floor. It was already under the first bed.
I grabbed the towels and jammed them across the bathroom doorway.
The tide continued it's progress.
I knew it would be seeking a drainage route under the carpet.
When the water stopped advancing I knew it had found one.
It wouldn't be long before the guest in the room directly below started raising hell.
I'd better get down and advise the front desk quick smart.
I quickly pulled on a t-shirt and shorts and hobbled to the lift.
"Disaster! Flood! Muchos Agua! Muchos Agua!" I'm waving my arms and yelling at the receptionist.
The emergency services soon arrived with buckets and mops and a wet and dry vacuum cleaner.
The hotel manager then appeared to oversee the clean up.
I sat forlornly on the only available bed.
He stood and grimly regarded my cold, wet, bedraggled appearance.
"What was the cause of this?" he asked sternly.
I was going to give him a tune up about the lack of operating instructions but I bit my tongue.
"The Tormentas!" I exclaimed instead, "Beware the Tormentas!"

Being a bit wobbly I needed my pacer poles to get to the Boccalino's restaurant that evening. There I had to shamefacedly relate to my pilgrim mates how my injury had come about.
"You poor dear," said Julie. "Here, have a glass of vino tinto and I'll tell you a story that might brighten you up a bit."
She poured me a glass, took a sip of hers, then commenced.

"Yesterday," she said, "I was approaching a hotel with a patio out the front. Lounging there was a pilgrim couple I'd seen a few days ago.
They were enjoying a late afternoon drink.
As I approached I heard the lady speak."
“I love you so much,” she said, “that I don't know how I could ever live without you.”
“Is that right?” queried the husband. “Is that you, or the wine talking?”
“It's me,” she replied, “talking to the wine.”

Regards
Gerard

PS
Brighten me up? How would that brighten me up?
Anyway, I don't know whether I believe that story.
The women at the table sure enjoyed it tho.
Giggling and cackling, laughing their heads off they were.

 

[grayland]

Thanks once again, Gerard.
Another full out laugh.
Good on ya!

 

[Peter Fransiscus]

Well I couldn't say I hadn't been warned.
The Tormentas.
I'd read about them in Jack Hitts book "Off The Road. A Modern-Day Walk Down the Pilgrim's Route into Spain."
Jack got caught by one as he crossed the meseta.
Suddenly the clouds boiled above. Rain pelted down. Lightning bolts crashed to the ground around him.
I'd also seen a weather presenter on Spanish TV addressing a weather map of northern Spain.
He pointed at a small black cloud with yellow zig-zag lightning bolts on it.
"Tormentas!" he said meaningfully, nodding his head.

It sure hit me unexpectedly.
The wind was accompanied by a high pitched how. It lashed at me powerfully and I was quickly drenched by the freezing water.
I stumbled. My feet went out from under me and down I crashed.
I lay dizzy and disorientated, freezing in the mist and lashing water.

"We are going to stay at the Hotel Paris in Leon," she'd said. "Looking forward to that. A little luxury for a change. It's a bit exy but you get the use of the spa facilities."
Women, they like that spa deal don't they?
Relaxing in a fizzy hot tub with perhaps a glass of wine.
Boring, I reckon. Whatever, to each, his or her own.
Ok if you're there with your lovely I suppose, but it is a long time since I've been that lucky.
Seems to be quite well known amongst female pilgrims does the Hotel Paris in Leon.
I'd walked past it in on my way up that main street that leads to the Cathedral.
Anyway, while I'm up for a treat after the trek across the Meseta, the Hotel Paris is not really my thing.

Looking back what I probably should have done is utilise that kind of money for perhaps a treat at the Leon Parador. I'd been told that you were able to book the room that Tom had taken. The one in the movie 'The Way', where Tom, Joost, Jack and Sarah had, after all their inter-personal differences, happily celebrated their new found pilgrim family friendship.
That would've been fun eh?

But now, here I am in Leon, in my room at the Hotel Boccalino, thoroughly confused.
Initially I was thoroughly impressed.
30 Euros for a 3rd floor modernish twin bedded room on my own, with an ensuite bathroom. Room to spread out and relax, a window over the city, a warm breeze billowing the curtains in, a good hand basin for the laundry, and just outside, a place I could hang my washing in the warm sunshine.
Perfecto! This'll do me. What more could you need for a treat after an albergue every night since Burgos? And I’m only five minutes from the Cathedral and my pilgrim mates are gathering here for dinner tonight at the Boccalino’s restaurant. And the Boccalino is just across a plaza from the 'must see' Basilica of San Isidoro.

First things first. Empty the pack across the spare bed, strip off my clothes, grab my toiletry bag, and off for a shower. Big fluffy hotel towels. That's what I call luxury.
It was then I became confused.
Now I know I’m technologically challenged type of guy, but I thought I could at least handle a shower. But then I’m a lever type of guy. The more you pull it out the more flow you get. Twist it one way and it gets hotter, to the other cooler. All very simple, right?

There I am, standing in the nuddy in the shower, confronted by a one piece spa type shower. A plastic wall covered with chrome pointy jets aiming at me from all directions. I have an uneasy feeling. I especially don’t like the look of those jets than pointy up from down below.
Apart from that it had a bewildering operating system, with no instructions.
I guess the best thing is just to fiddle with the buttons until you figure it out.

It was then the Tormentas struck!
So cold it took my breath away. So strong up my derriere it made me jump and thereby loose my footing. Sat me first on my butt, then I toppled over on the tiled floor.
I'd could feel that I'd wrenched a hip muscle. This necessitated that I must first struggle to my hands and knees, then crawl outside the shower where I could utilise the handbasin to haul myself upright.
The water had by now migrated out into the bathroom proper. The floor was awash and water was about to flow into the bedroom. I forced myself back into the blizzard and beat furiously on the control panel. But it was some time before I got the flow stopped.

I didn’t want to look, but I had to.
There was a waterfall flowing out into the bedroom proper.
The tide was advancing steadily across the carpeted floor.
It was already under the first bed.
I grabbed the towels and jammed them across the bathroom doorway.
Bugger. Should've saved a couple of the towels to use on the bedroom floor.
The tide continued it's progress.
Being a hotel keeper in a previous life I knew the water would be seeking a drainage route under the carpet.
When the water stopped advancing I knew it had found one.
It wouldn't be long before the guest in the room directly below started raising hell.
I'd better get down and advise the front desk quick smart.
I quickly pulled on a t-shirt and shorts and hobbled to the lift.
"Disaster! Disaster! Flood! Muchos Agua!" I'm waving my arms and yelling at the receptionist.
The emergency services soon arrived with buckets and mops and a wet and dry vacuum cleaner.
The hotel manager then appeared to oversee the clean up.
I sat forlornly on the only available bed.
He stood and regarded my cold, wet and bedraggled appearance.
"What was the cause of this?" he asked sternly.
I was going to give him a tune up about the lack of operating instructions but I bit my tongue.
"The Tormentas," I replied instead, "Beware the Tormentas!"

Being a bit wobbly I had to use my pacer poles to get to the Boccalino restaurant that evening.
Then I had to shamefacedly relate to my pilgrim mates how my injury had come about.
"You poor dear," said Julie, "here, have a glass of vino tinto and I'll tell you a story that might brighten you up a bit."

She took a sip of her wine then commenced.
"Yesterday," she said, "I was approaching a hotel with a patio out the front.
Lounging there was a pilgrim couple I'd seen a few days ago.
They were enjoying a late afternoon drink.
As I approached I heard the lady speak."
“I love you so much,” she said, “that I don't know how I could ever live without you.”
“Is that right?” replied the husband. “Is that you or the wine talking?”
“It's me,” she replied, “talking to the wine.”

Brighten me up? How would that brighten me up?
Anyway, I don't know whether I believe that story or not.
I don't think I do.
The women at the table sure enjoyed it tho.
Cackling and laughing their heads off they were.

Regards
Gerard

Hi Gerard, loved your story.
Wish you well and a Buen Camino, Peter.

 

[Urban Trekker]

Very funny visualization. Keep it up.

 

[Theatregal]

!!!

 

[KinkyOne]

Excellent read, as always, Gerard
Thanks!

 

[wayfarer]

How you brighten up my mornings Gerard. Thank you. The like button does not do this justice.

 

[WildPlace]

Love the way you tell it! Buen camino!

 

[Rebekah Scott]

what fun! I had a similar experience with a complicated bath appliance in a moderno hotel in Caceres. I stepped into the tub and touched a button on the wall... Water shot out of the shower head at fire-hose pressure, and the handset leapt off the wall and jumped and twisted like a wild python, spraying and battering me and the walls and mirror and bathroom with incredibly COLD water. I finally collared it and wrestled it into submission, but the pretty bathroom decor was much the worse for the experience. I came out with only bruises, thank heaven. Not everyone who encounters a Shower Snake is so lucky!

 

[Stephen]

Should pilgrims ditch their telescopic, metal, walking poles in favour of wooden ones in case they find themselves in the middle of a storm? Being struck by lightning attracted by the metal poles would be a camino memory we could well do without.

 

[spursfan]

For those brave souls out there can I recommend the following on the Camino Norte - there was a spa-type shower that even had it's own remote control device
It was topped off by more plants in the room than there are in most gardens (I counted about 20)
Hotel Rural Luna del Valle, Nueva

 

[Former member 42123]

Well I couldn't say I hadn't been warned.
The Tormentas.
I'd read about them in Jack Hitt's book "Off The Road. A Modern-Day Walk Down the Pilgrim's Route into Spain."
Jack got caught by one as he crossed the meseta.
Suddenly the clouds boiled above. Rain pelted down. Lightning bolts crashed to the ground around him.
I'd also seen a weather presenter on Spanish TV addressing a weather map of northern Spain.
He pointed at a small black cloud with yellow zig-zag lightning bolts on it.
"Tormentas!" he said meaningfully, nodding his head.

It sure hit me unexpectedly.
The wind was accompanied by a high pitched howl. It lashed at me powerfully and I was quickly drenched by the freezing water. I stumbled. My feet went out from under me and down I crashed. I sat dizzy and disorientated, freezing in the mist and lashing water.

"We are going to stay at the Hotel Paris in Leon," she'd said. "Looking forward to that. A little luxury for a change. It's a bit exy but you get the use of the spa facilities."
Women, they like that spa deal don't they?
Relaxing in a fizzy hot tub with perhaps a glass of wine.
Boring, I reckon. Whatever, to each, his or her own.
Ok if you're there with your lovely I suppose, but it is a long time since I've been that lucky.
Seems to be quite well known amongst female pilgrims does the Hotel Paris in Leon.
I'd walked past it in on my way up that main street that leads to the Cathedral.
Anyway, while I'm up for a treat after the trek across the Meseta, the Hotel Paris is not really my thing.

Looking back what I probably should have done is utilise that kind of money for perhaps a treat at the Leon Parador. I'd been told that you were able to book the room that Tom had taken. The one in the movie 'The Way', where Tom, Joost, Jack and Sarah had, after all their inter-personal differences, happily celebrated their new found pilgrim family friendship.
That would've been fun eh?

But now, here I am in Leon, in my room at the Hotel Boccalino, thoroughly confused.
Initially I was thoroughly impressed.
30 Euros for a 3rd floor modernish twin bedded room on my own, with an ensuite bathroom. Room to spread out and relax, a window over the city, a warm breeze billowing the curtains in, a good hand basin for the laundry, and just outside, a place I could hang my washing in the warm sunshine.
Perfecto! This'll do me. What more could you need for a treat after an albergue every night since Burgos? And I’m only five minutes from the Cathedral and my pilgrim mates are gathering here for dinner tonight at the Boccalino’s restaurant. And the Boccalino is just across a plaza from the 'must see' Basilica of San Isidoro.

First things first. Empty the pack across the spare bed, strip off my clothes, grab my toiletry bag, and off for a shower. Big fluffy hotel towels. That's what I call luxury.
It was then I became confused.
Now I know I’m technologically challenged type of guy, but I thought I could at least handle a shower. But then I’m a lever type of guy. The more you pull it out the more flow you get. Twist it one way and it gets hotter, to the other cooler. All very simple, right?

There I am, standing in the nuddy in the shower, confronted by a one piece spa type shower. A plastic wall covered with chrome pointy jets aiming at me from all directions. I have an uneasy feeling. I especially don’t like the look of those jets than pointy up from down below.
Apart from that it had a bewildering operating system, with no instructions.
I guess the best thing is just to fiddle with the buttons until you figure it out.

It was then the Tormentas struck!
So cold it took my breath away. So strong up my derriere it made me jump and thereby loose my footing. Sat me on my butt on the tiled floor.
I could feel that I'd wrenched a hip muscle. This necessitated that I must first struggle to my hands and knees, then crawl outside the shower where I could utilise the handbasin to haul myself upright.
The water had by now migrated out into the bathroom proper. The floor was awash and water was about to flow into the bedroom. I forced myself back into the blizzard and beat furiously on the control panel. But it was some time before I got the flow stopped.

I didn’t want to look, but I had to.
There was a waterfall flowing out into the bedroom proper.
The tide was advancing steadily across the carpeted floor.
It was already under the first bed.
I grabbed the towels and jammed them across the bathroom doorway.
Bugger. Should've saved a couple of the towels to use on the bedroom floor.
The tide continued it's progress.
Being a hotel keeper in a previous life I knew the water would be seeking a drainage route under the carpet.
When the water stopped advancing I knew it had found one.
It wouldn't be long before the guest in the room directly below started raising hell.
I'd better get down and advise the front desk quick smart.
I quickly pulled on a t-shirt and shorts and hobbled to the lift.
"Disaster! Disaster! Flood! Muchos Agua!" I'm waving my arms and yelling at the receptionist.
The emergency services soon arrived with buckets and mops and a wet and dry vacuum cleaner.
The hotel manager then appeared to oversee the clean up.
I sat forlornly on the only available bed.
He stood and regarded my cold, wet, bedraggled appearance.
"What was the cause of this?" he asked sternly.
I was going to give him a tune up about the lack of operating instructions but I bit my tongue.
"The Tormentas," I replied instead, "Beware the Tormentas!"

Being a bit wobbly I had to use my pacer poles to get to the Boccalino restaurant that evening.
Then I had to shamefacedly relate to my pilgrim mates how my injury had come about.
"You poor dear," said Julie, "here, have a glass of vino tinto and I'll tell you a story that might brighten you up a bit."

She took a sip of her wine then commenced.
"Yesterday," she said, "I was approaching a hotel with a patio out the front.
Lounging there was a pilgrim couple I'd seen a few days ago.
They were enjoying a late afternoon drink.
As I approached I heard the lady speak."
“I love you so much,” she said, “that I don't know how I could ever live without you.”
“Is that right?” replied the husband. “Is that you or the wine talking?”
“It's me,” she replied, “talking to the wine.”

Brighten me up? How would that brighten me up?
Anyway, I don't know whether I believe that story or not.
I don't think I do.
The women at the table sure enjoyed it tho.
Cackling and laughing their heads off they were.

Regards
Gerard

As ever,love your storytelling,convinced by your name and ability to "hold your audience in the palm of your hand", you must be descended from a long line of Irish storytellers.Keep 'em coming,and thanks.

 

[Kialoa3]

Wonderful read. Absolutely hilarious.

 

[Kevin F. O*brien]

Haha, you're bloody mad, mate. Thanks for a good laugh!! I'm still sure you're related to the other Carey!!

 

[NorthernLight]

Very eloquently put.

*likes*

 

[woodlady]

Think I have been laughing for ten minutes. I laughed so I could not read.It came to my mind all the times I have been standing there-in the shower,not knowing how to operate it.Me and my friend had even walked in to shower in the mens shower.When we were almost ready we heared some funny noises outside . They laughed their heads off, and when we understood what was happening,we laughed too.We had overlooked the sign for -MEN!

 

[susanawee]

A wonderfully funny story to brighten my Sunday Morning.....you have not lost your touch Gerard Carey....still giggling away to myself here....Susanawee

 

[newgabe]

Oh yes... on my last mega 12 month backpack through 13 countries I remember thinking the hardest thing about such travel is having to figure out every ay how to use the shower!

 

[DanielH]

Well I couldn't say I hadn't been warned.
The Tormentas.
I'd read about them in Jack Hitt's book "Off The Road. A Modern-Day Walk Down the Pilgrim's Route into Spain."
Jack got caught by one as he crossed the meseta.
Suddenly the clouds boiled above. Rain pelted down. Lightning bolts crashed to the ground around him.
I'd also seen a weather presenter on Spanish TV addressing a weather map of northern Spain.
He pointed at a small black cloud with yellow zig-zag lightning bolts on it.
"Tormentas!" he said meaningfully, nodding his head.

It sure hit me unexpectedly.
The wind was accompanied by a high pitched howl. It lashed at me powerfully and I was quickly drenched by the freezing water. I stumbled. My feet went out from under me and down I crashed. I sat dizzy and disorientated, freezing in the mist and lashing water.

"We are going to stay at the Hotel Paris in Leon," she'd said. "Looking forward to that. A little luxury for a change. It's a bit exy but you get the use of the spa facilities."
Women, they like that spa deal don't they?
Relaxing in a fizzy hot tub with perhaps a glass of wine.
Boring, I reckon. Whatever, to each, his or her own.
Ok if you're there with your lovely I suppose, but it is a long time since I've been that lucky.
Seems to be quite well known amongst female pilgrims does the Hotel Paris in Leon.
I'd walked past it in on my way up that main street that leads to the Cathedral.
Anyway, while I'm up for a treat after the trek across the Meseta, the Hotel Paris is not really my thing.

Looking back what I probably should have done is utilise that kind of money for perhaps a treat at the Leon Parador. I'd been told that you were able to book the room that Tom had taken. The one in the movie 'The Way', where Tom, Joost, Jack and Sarah had, after all their inter-personal differences, happily celebrated their new found pilgrim family friendship.
That would be fun eh?

But now, here I am in Leon, in my room at the Hotel Boccalino, thoroughly confused.
Initially I was thoroughly impressed.
30 Euros for a 3rd floor modernish twin bedded room on my own, with an ensuite bathroom. Room to spread out and relax, a window over the city, a warm breeze billowing the curtains in, a good hand basin for the laundry, and just outside, a place I could hang my washing in the warm sunshine.
Perfecto! This'll do me. What more could you need for a treat after an albergue every night since Burgos? And I’m only five minutes from the Cathedral and my pilgrim mates are gathering here for dinner tonight at the Boccalino’s restaurant. And the Boccalino is just across a plaza from the 'must see' Basilica of San Isidoro.

First things first. Empty the pack across the spare bed, strip off my clothes, grab my toiletry bag, and off for a shower. Big fluffy hotel towels. That's what I call luxury.
It was then I became confused.
Now I know I’m technologically challenged type of guy, but I thought I could at least handle a shower. But then I’m a lever type of guy. The more you pull it out the more flow you get. Twist it one way and it gets hotter, to the other cooler. All very simple, right?

There I am, standing in the nuddy in the shower, confronted by a one piece spa type shower. A plastic wall covered with chrome pointy jets aiming at me from all directions. I have an uneasy feeling. I especially don’t like the look of those jets than pointy up from down below.
Apart from that it had a bewildering operating system, with no instructions.
I guess the best thing is just to fiddle with the buttons until you figure it out.

It was then the Tormentas struck!
So cold it took my breath away. So strong up my derriere it made me jump and thereby loose my footing. Sat me on my butt on the tiled floor.
I could feel that I'd wrenched a hip muscle. This necessitated that I must first struggle to my hands and knees, then crawl outside the shower where I could utilise the handbasin to haul myself upright.
The water had by now migrated out into the bathroom proper. The floor was awash and water was about to flow into the bedroom. I forced myself back into the blizzard and beat furiously on the control panel. But it was some time before I got the flow stopped.

I didn’t want to look, but I had to.
There was a waterfall flowing out into the bedroom proper.
The tide was advancing steadily across the carpeted floor.
It was already under the first bed.
I grabbed the towels and jammed them across the bathroom doorway.
Bugger. Should've saved a couple of the towels to use on the bedroom floor.
The tide continued it's progress.
Being a hotel keeper in a previous life I knew the water would be seeking a drainage route under the carpet.
When the water stopped advancing I knew it had found one.
It wouldn't be long before the guest in the room directly below started raising hell.
I'd better get down and advise the front desk quick smart.
I quickly pulled on a t-shirt and shorts and hobbled to the lift.
"Disaster! Disaster! Flood! Muchos Agua!" I'm waving my arms and yelling at the receptionist.
The emergency services soon arrived with buckets and mops and a wet and dry vacuum cleaner.
The hotel manager then appeared to oversee the clean up.
I sat forlornly on the only available bed.
He stood and regarded my cold, wet, bedraggled appearance.
"What was the cause of this?" he asked sternly.
I was going to give him a tune up about the lack of operating instructions but I bit my tongue.
"The Tormentas," I replied instead, "Beware the Tormentas!"

Being a bit wobbly I had to use my pacer poles to get to the Boccalino restaurant that evening.
Then I had to shamefacedly relate to my pilgrim mates how my injury had come about.
"You poor dear," said Julie, "here, have a glass of vino tinto and I'll tell you a story that might brighten you up a bit."

She took a sip of her wine then commenced.
"Yesterday," she said, "I was approaching a hotel with a patio out the front.
Lounging there was a pilgrim couple I'd seen a few days ago.
They were enjoying a late afternoon drink.
As I approached I heard the lady speak."
“I love you so much,” she said, “that I don't know how I could ever live without you.”
“Is that right?” replied the husband. “Is that you or the wine talking?”
“It's me,” she replied, “talking to the wine.”

Brighten me up? How would that brighten me up?
Anyway, I don't know whether I believe that story or not.
I don't think I do.
The women at the table sure enjoyed it tho.
Cackling and laughing their heads off they were.

Regards
Gerard

great story LOL. I had a similar experience trying to figure out the complicated shower!!

 

[peregrina2000]

Another fun story, I hereby nominate you as our official forum chronicler! And you've also brought back memories of an identical experience in the Pension Zamora in Toro, the last stage before the Camino Levante joins the Sanabres in Zamora. Those huge complicated one piece plastic "spa showers" are one of the most ridiculous creature comfort inventions ever made. I think the salesman just went up and down all the caminos and made a sales pitch to some gullible owners, and here we are having to figure the stupid things out.

 

[Wokabaut_Meri]

...Women, they like that spa deal don't they?
Relaxing in a fizzy hot tub with perhaps a glass of wine...

..."Yesterday," she said, "I was approaching a hotel with a patio out the front.
Lounging there was a pilgrim couple I'd seen a few days ago.
They were enjoying a late afternoon drink.
As I approached I heard the lady speak."
“I love you so much,” she said, “that I don't know how I could ever live without you.”
“Is that right?” replied the husband. “Is that you or the wine talking?”
“It's me,” she replied, “talking to the wine.”

Brighten me up? How would that brighten me up?
Anyway, I don't know whether I believe that story or not.
I don't think I do.
The women at the table sure enjoyed it tho.
Cackling and laughing their heads off they were.

Regards
Gerard

Thank you. You are such a wonderful teller of stories.

Regarding:

1. glass of wine + fizzy hot tub: guilty of that particular pleasure
2. I have also been known to talk in this vein/vine to a glass of wine (in my husband's presence) at the end of a long and complicated walking day

 

[zzotte]

Gerard Gerard you need to get out more often ( from under the rock) hahaha

Zzotte

 

[gerardcarey]

Thanks to all for their kind words and amusing anecdotes.
Regards
Gerard

 

[Kanga]

@gerardcarey another great story. I am familiar with those showers. Takes a Ph.D. to work them out. But wonderful when you do.

 

[HeidiL]

Reminds me strongly about a couple of experiences I've had in unknown hotel showers.

I am seriously myopic. I see very little without contacts or glasses, but don't sleep in contacts. Showering in glasses feels weird, but I have had to a couple of times so I could figure out the shower controls, after FIRST having the tormenta. It's worse when you can't see anything.

 

[JudyInTexas]

...and it reminds me of the combo washer/dryer in the London apartment four of us rented for a week. Never did figure it out. Fortunately for management I gave up prior to getting to the "mucho agua" stage. Gerald, you make me laugh. Thank you.

Mucho Agua! Mucho Agua!!!