Pasta in Prison


My story begins when I was sat looking out of the window of my tiny flat watching the rain wash down the street on a dreary overcast day. “What I need is a holiday!” I thought. After very little persuasion my sister agreed that a break away from the kids was just what we needed.

That weekend we headed to the travel agents and booked a bargain break to Spain.

We should have known what the holiday would have in store from the minute we stepped onto that plane. On this budget airline, first class does not exist. Instead we were packed onto the plane like cattle. As the last in the queue the choice of seats left was limited. I was left with a seat that has a very suspicious stain on it and was ever so slightly damp. Meanwhile my sister was left sitting next to a small, angry child with an inflatable hammer. Personally I think I got the better deal!

It will all be okay when we get to the hotel we thought. Sitting in the air conditioned coach driving past luxury hotels and palm tree lined beaches, everything felt right in the world. We kept driving… and driving… and driving until we reached…. “Is that a prison??!” my sister asked. Yup that was our stop folks. We pulled up at a grubby beige building lined not with palm trees but barbed wire. Interesting choice of decoration I decided. Maybe the place was themed.

The hotel lobby I have to admit wasn’t bad. Maybe our luck was changing. We excitedly wandered to find out room only to find that it was already occupied…. by ants. I ran back down to reception and explained to the miserable man on reception that our room was overrun by ants. He nodded disappeared under the desk for a minute and reappeared with a can of bug spray. “Complimentary!” he explained. Lucky me!

After the insect drama we decided to head down to dinner. We found the buffet restaurant and both clutching our plates went to find something to eat. The problem was neither of us recognised any of the food that was on offer and labels such as “Cow” above the food weren’t altogether helpful. We were starving and decided to try the first thing that looked edible. We sat down and realised that we were tucking in to the Spanish delicacy that is deep fried cauliflower! I have to say, when your that hungry it aint half bad!

Our second day we woke up with horrendous hangovers thinking that at least the alcohol was okay. We decided to head down to the pool to cool down, not bad a nice pool if you took the dive bombing kids out of the equation. It was only when we lay down on our sun loungers that we realised we had a few friends to contend with in the form of a wasp infestation. They were everywhere; no amount of bud spray could deter these creatures. The soft drinks sat at the pool bar were self-service and with this amount of wasps getting a drink meant team work! We would take it in turns to throw a cup of water at the drinks pump to temporarily scatter the wasps and the other would quickly try and pour out two drinks before the wasps came back to claim their home.

Our third day was actually quite lovely, as our hotel was in the middle of nowhere we got on a bus to the next town which was a 45 minute drive away. We had a fabulous day sipping sangria in the sun in this lovely little village. We headed back to the hotel to see what deep fried delights were on the menu that evening. “Hmm looks interesting tonight,” I thought. My sister had just shovelled a huge mound of the mystery meal into her mouth when her expression changed to that of puzzlement as disgust. “Deep fried pasta,” she explained. Oh my!

On our last night I lay in bed looking around our room. The room actually wasn’t half bad once the ants had vacated I thought to myself. I rearranged my pillows on the bed getting ready for bed when I noticed something strange on the wall behind them. I moved the pillows back to see what it was. The words “SATAN” were scribed on the wall behind me in permanent marker. Hmm maybe we were in prison after all!



E West

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