Iss bery escary


It’s not nice and I’m not proud of it, but having shaken the dust off my sandals from the fourth – yes, fourth – holiday this summer, I am feeling horribly aggrieved that it’s my last until nearly Christmas. Boo. And booooo.

In the past I’ve found holidays a bit of a chore. They’re nice and that and everything, but travel in my price range is a hassle and holidays can be, well, a teense of a disruption. Not any more! I love em! I’ve got so used to pootling off that it is the work of 10 minutes to throw what I need (passport, pants, factor 50) into a bag and head off to the wide yonder.

Last week it was Majorca’s turn to host me. Lovely place, that. We were in Pollensa – Puerto de, to be more precise – halfway up a hill in an eyesore of a villa that, like many eyesores, afforded a glorious view over the bay that it spoiled. I travelled out with chum Rowena who has the added benefit of enjoying driving. Just as well, because our hostess was keen that we rent a car and after that business in New England, the memory of which still makes me gasp and clutch my face, I’m not so keen on hot-rodding around on the wrong side of the road. Oh God, that noise! The paintwork! The loosened masonry! The newly hatched rubbing sound around the front axle! It haunts my dreams.

Anyway, with that phantasm flapping around my id, ego and for-all-I-know superego, I certainly wasn’t going to push Rowie to say yes or no to hiring a car. She would be driving; she gets to give the nod. The nod was given, I sent up a prayer, and out we flew to Majorca. I had brought a torch for reading the directions – never fun trying to find the middle of chuffing nowhere late at night, but we found our way and all was good.

The days passed without vehicular incident, though we neither of us will think of the Formentor road again without a shadow. Still, at least I discovered that my voice could shiver up an octave within the short phrase ‘That’s very close’. Though I think I actually said ‘That’s very cloh-woh-woh-se’. Amazing how often a lengthened vowel and a loosened bowel coincide, isn’t it? Funny that the Spanish presumably pronounce ‘bowel’ and ‘vowel’ the same way in Eengleesh. I am rock-solid convinced that that’s no coincidence, it’s because they know the Formentor road. They built the bloody thing, anyway.


One Response to “Iss bery escary”

  1. 1 » Iss bery escary « Vanessa Harriss's Blog

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: