CHAPTER 5
Amina and I flew from Cardiff, thankfully, rather than Bristol, but we’d chosen to ride on the number 304 bus, which always takes an age for the journey. We got to see Barry, though, which was…

“They did that series here, Jen”

“Which one?”

“Being Human”

“The ghosts and vampires thing?”

“And werewolves, love. Filmed it in Barry”

“Thought it was in Bristol?”

“To start with, yeah, but when they changed the cast, and that bloke with the ears left, it was moved to Barry. Not sure if that was an upward or downward move. Anyway, only a few more stops”

“Get a bloody cab next time, love”

“No arguments from me. I think my arse is already asleep, and we’re not even on the plane yet. I’ll need a massage when we get to the hotel. Hint hint”

“Well, the other two will be in the air by now, so might have to wait till we settle them in first”

“Bad timing, that. Would have been nice to have the whole unit to ourselves for a bit”

“A bit of what?”

“Cheeky!”

We emerged from the bus, finally, and yawned and stretched our way through check-in and bag drop before a short session grazing in the departure lounge, eyes on the big board. A gate number eventually appeared, and twenty minutes later we shuffled down the airbridge to our plane. There was the usual juggling game, until our bums were on our seats, our belts fashioned, and, at last, the plane was heading out on the taxiway. Yes: I do know all the technical terms, because one of our responsibilities, Tom and I, is to collect medical emergencies from the airport.

Sometimes, there’s no hurry. Or rather, there is no longer a need for it. Only twice, however, have we had to use a scissors lift to remove a casualty who had ceased to be a patient, and whose journey had reached a different destination to that intended.

I fell asleep right after we levelled out, which was one reason Amina gave me the window seat, thus avoiding the need to climb over me for any reason, such as a full bladder. She shook me awake once she had spotted land, and the seat belt light had sparked to life. Seats upright, tray tables away, etc, and then a bang, with rather a bit of rocking, and we were down. We left the plane by airstairs and squeezed onto one of those waddling airport tarmac coaches for the ride to the terminal, where the bloody Spanish made us queue for ages just to get a passport stamp.

Finally, though, we were able to get our bags through the automatic doors into the Arrivals area, where Amina spotted Lil and Jenny waving at us from a sort of café space. Jenny in particular seemed absolutely serene.

“Good flight, you two?”

I shrugged.

“No idea. Busy week, so I was out of it at wheels-up. Ask Amina”

My wife snorted.

“Could just about see past her, so I saw some of the ground”

Lil was shaking her head.

“Too much of that flight was over the sea. Bugger all to look at. And when did they stop doing meals?”

Amina’s eyebrows went up in amazement.

“When did you last fly, Lil?”

“Can’t remember. At least twenty years ago”

“Well, there’s at least one grasping tosser who wants to charge for using the toilet. That’s why you always, ALWAYS check the ‘extras’ rather than just looking at the lead price”

Jenny grinned, not entirely happily.

“That’s why I went to my friend Caroline and got tickets at employee rates. It’s… There’s other shit, too. When Lil and I met, I was on a short break. So many places I wanted to go, but when you travel solo, they really do screw you for every penny”

Amina softened her words as best she could, after a glance at me.

“If you had gone to one of those other places, you wouldn’t have met, you two. Anyway, the hotel’s supposed to have a transfer minibus. Shall we get rolling?”

The information desk was surprisingly helpful, especially compared to the Spanish Customs people, and we were soon at the appropriate stand. Ten minutes after we sat down in some well-appreciated shade, a fifteen-seater rolled up. Together with four other passengers we loaded our bags and were off, initially along a reasonably modern dual carriageway, passing through terrain that looked like a cross between a disused quarry and some of the rover footage from Mars, just with added scraps of moribund shrubbery. That finally gave way to an urban area, initially well=spaced, and then into a somewhat more constricted collection of high rises and ‘motel-style’ hotel complexes. We pulled up in front of one of the latter, a rainbow flag fling over the sign ‘Two Canny Lads’, and one of the men riding us remarked, rather archly, “Anyone would think there might be gay people around”.

His companion sniffed.

“As if! I shall save you from them if you spot any”

“More like save them all for yourself, you mean. Pool’s waiting, time’s wasting”

The four other arrivals were all friends, and at the hotel reception two local girls worked through their booking as an older Geordie man did ours.

“And, just to help with our marketing, can you tell us how you heard about our hotel?”

I waved at the others.

“We all go into a pub in Cardiff, the same pub, I mean. They have leaflets there, your leaflets”

The man grinned happily.

“Smugglers, by any chance? I think I’ve seen one of you there… Lily?”

She nodded.

“Lil, but yes. I work there”

“You’ll know some of our friends, then. Debbie Prosser? Diane Sutton and her crew?”

I couldn’t help laughing at that.

“How could anyone NOT know Deb? I mean, they’ve got the pub quiz game sewn up between them, and Di’s lot, well, all the rest. I shall just say ‘Gemma’ and ‘pastries’ and leave it there. I try and plan routes to avoid that shop, when I’m working. This is my missus Amina, I’m Jen, and so is my non-wife here”

“Hi, then. A bit like Trumpton, that. I’m Graham, him indoors is Malcolm, and what can I tell you about the area? Usual question the girls are just answering over there is ‘where’s the best gay bar’, and we do indeed have one in the hotel”

Amina took my arm, with just a bit of a hint in her squeeze of it.

“Don’t know about the others over there, but I don’t think cruising is what we’re after. Decent food, maybe some music that isn’t too shit?”

“Well, we actually have a little local map Malcolm drew up. I can send it to your phone; it’s interactive”

“Please. Now, are we about ready for me to drag her away and get her out of her clothes… and into her cossie for the pool?”

Graham laughed in appreciation.

“I see you fit right in at that pub! Here’s your room keys--- I’ve done four. There’s a room and area guide by the telly, with our wifi code, as well as all our mealtimes and room service menu, and there’s a fridge. Jug of sangria awaits you there”

The rooms, or apartments rather, were spread around a courtyard holding a reasonably-sized and immaculate pool, and the accommodation itself consisted of a central living room with attached mini-kitchen and shower/toilet wet room. The bedrooms were either side, each with a window facing in towards the pool rather than out towards any traffic noise, which was a nice touch. Amina pushed me into one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind her.

“Strip. Change. Then I am pouring the cold wet stuff, so if you want any, get moving. Capisce? That’s yer ackshull Spanish, that is!”

“Er, I think it was actually Italian, love”

“Move!”

I did as ordered, Amina moving so much more quickly than me, and after a quick bagging of sunscreen, towels and other stuff, we entered the living room just as Lil and Jenny appeared. We sort of matched, as both Lil and I were wearing what the shop had called tankinis, while the others were in more abbreviated two-piece costumes, Amina’s leaving very little for the imagination to guess at.

Jenny was much leaner, of course, but while her hips were not really as wide as, well, as she might have wished, her top was…

Put those thoughts away, woman.

Amina had found two large jugs in the fridge, and before we braved the sun we did indeed sample, fully, the fruity goodness. Amina was looking at the guide app Graham had sent her.

“First thing tomorrow, girls, or this evening if we have the energy, we hit the local supermercado---and that IS Spanish, love---to top up our supplies. Box or six of the wet stuff, and some fresh fruit to slice into it. What are we doing for food tonight?”

Lil sighed.

“I hope you’re not after staying out all night? I, for one, am shattered already”

Amina waved the room service menu.

“They do bar meals here, girls. Quite a range, including a tapas selection. That’s for me, anyway. Happy to go with the flow”

Staying in seemed to be the consensus, so once we had done sufficient justice to the cold drink, we were off into the ‘how bloody hot is this?’ of the courtyard. There were enough free sun loungers, and as I stared up into the oddly pale sky, I could see small clouds scudding past in what was clearly quite a stiff breeze, although we were fully sheltered by the surrounding buildings. The pool water was just right, at least for half-floating, face turned up and eyes closed. I just lazed there, losing complete track of time, until Amina splashed me.

“Out and get sun creamed, love. Not spending the whole holiday with a piece of pickled beetroot. Same for you two and, don’t even think it: yes, I still need sunscreen!”

The food that evening was more than adequate, our bed was comfy, and in the end, as we heard from the other bedroom, it appeared that the only ones of those five words beginning with ‘s’ the other two had left to tick were ‘sand’ and ‘sea’.

As long as we could keep that mood going, it looked like being a good holiday.