Since our first weeks in Spain, we have long heard about the
beauty of the southern coast of Spain. From the southwestern beaches of
Cadiz and Tarifa, to Malaga and Marbella, to the mountainous southeast of Cabo
de Gata, we had hoped to visit all three. We've been fortunate enough
to visit the first two and were going for the 'hat trick' this weekend.
It was me (Todd) and 4 girls, so I wasn't exactly dragging my
feet. However, I could have used a little more testosterone.
Between the five of us, we were all 'automatic' (transmission) drivers -- no one had the ability, or at least the confidence, to put four other lives in their hands while driving a manual car through the mountains in southern Spain. It was a logistical nightmare to find an automatic car at a reasonable rate, close to our hometown, but after some negotiating, some backtracking and a simultaneous back-massage by all four girls (only in my dreams) we were off on our next adventure.
None of us work on Friday (thank you 12 hours/week work
schedule), so we were able to leave Thursday evening after work -- by work, I
mean sitting in a classroom for three hours. I'd like to say the drive
down to the coast was beautiful, but since it was dark, we didn't see anything.
However, I'm pretty sure it was still beautiful. A short 3 hours
later, we were pulling into the Los Escullos section of Cabo de Gata around
midnight.
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| Not the view at midnight. |
The area of Los Escullos is a section known for it's camping and bungalows, also known for being a desert -- a minor detail in our opinion. The fact that the front desk employee was actually awake and waiting for us, and the fact that it was being nominated for the 2012 Camping Site of the year, probably gave us all a false sense of confidence of what we were walking into. However, we were essentially paying about 10Euro/night, so I suppose our expectations should not have been too high.
After checking-in, we navigated our way to bungalow 35. The fun started
when we were 'shushed' by our not-so-friendly camping neighbors upon our
arrival -- I was with a crazy group of girls, impossible to control. The
key unlocked the front door, and then things got interesting. By that, I
mean the terrible smell that had been festering in the pre-used, unflushed
toilet was released unto its first victims -- the five of us. Apparently,
as part of their cleaning ritual, they leave guests an unsuspecting welcome
present in the toilet.
The odd smell continued to permeate throughout the bungalow
as we wondered what to do. As we opened the bathroom to throw away a
mysterious rag left in our room (no surprise), we were all exposed to the
unforgettable stench that would haunt our sleep for nights to come. Once
we worked up the courage to flush the present, we were rewarded with a running
toilet. For the next five minutes the toilet continued to flush ...
until, I was designated to fix the toilet because I was a man. It clearly
goes without saying I fixed the toilet... because I am a man.
About the same time, our 'friend' from the front desk was walking around the campsite with a flashlight (I assume and hope he was on official business). I approached him as he asked if everything was okay. I quickly replied it was not. Normally, I would have had some funny comment (to me, at least), or probably a joke, but my humor has suffered a little as I can't always find the words to say in Spanish, of what I am thinking in English. He profusely apologized. We thought this couldn't be exactly a normal occurrence, especially from the prestigious campsites of Los Escullos, I mean, my goodness, it's a 2012 award nominee.
He informed us that "esto no es normal". This is not normal. He told us that we should simply change bungalows. He quickly reappeared with two keys as I informed the girls of our upcoming departure. He walked us along to the gravel path to a nearby bungalow, where we entered. I brought along one of the girls, to make sure it would meet the satisfaction of the female faction of our group. We entered and he looked at us with such expectancy, I think I was half-expecting a surprise party to welcome us, or at least some sort of animal to jump out of the bedroom. Something. We looked around, smelled around, and it seemed to pass the initial test. Unfortunately, we hadn't yet entered the bathroom. The shower doors were broken. He groaned, "Lo siento. No es normal." Again, I'm sorry, this isn't normal.
As we were quickly transferred to our third bungalow we were beginning to wonder if we would ever find a place to sleep. Sleeping in the car was quickly becoming an attractive option. We entered bungalow #3 and again we were met with a foul smell. He didn't seem to notice. This time, we didn't even want to search for the cause. Ruth and I looked at each other and wondered what to do. We quickly decided that we could forgo the fully operational shower doors, in order to have a normal-smelling bungalow for the next three days.
We informed the man, that we would actually prefer the second bungalow. We returned and he made a mad-dash to the bathroom in apparent hopes of making a quick 1am repair of the shower doors. The following 5 minutes would be the funniest of the entire weekend. The gentlemen preceded to sit on the floor, then to reposition himself by standing up, only to sit back down, trying to open, close, reopen, adjust, angle the doors in order to set them correctly. At the beginning, his technique was gentle, like a surgeon on the operating table. "Esto no es normal" he calmly explained again. Again, this is not normal. He began calmly, the artist and his paintbrush. With each passing minute, his movement became rougher. The frustration mounted. The calm man was now fully converted into a wild beast, wildly swinging the doors like Bam-Bam from the Flintstones. Dr. Jekyll had become Mr. Hyde (or is it the other way around?). We were now greeted with an angry cave-man swinging madly swinging the shower doors. Now, we were hearing grunts, moans, and shouts and shrills of ESTO ... NO ... ES ... NORMAL, ESTO ... NO ... ES ... NORMAL, ESTO ... NO ... ES ... NORMAL!!! Repeat this about ten more times, increasing your decibel level each time, and you can somewhat recreate the scene.
Before Bam Bam decided to put a hole through the wall, we let him off the hook and told that we weren't going to shower tonight and maybe and he could just send someone the next morning. Red in the face, he agreed, and sauntered off.
We were finally at home in Los Escullos, ready to enjoy the next three days at the beach, embracing the windy afternoons and enjoying the natural beauty of southern Spain. We had a great time in the bungalows (even without fully operational shower doors) and on the beach. I'm not sure if we will place our vote for Los Escullos Camping in the 2012 competition.
... the door was never fixed. However, I'm sure, 'esto no es normal'.
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