Oops, we did it again

If you know me, you know my name is synonymous with stupidity or if you're one of those people who look at the glass half full maybe you’d say naiveté. It's really a miracle I haven't gotten myself killed in the year I've spent abroad. I certainly put myself in more than enough dangerous situations than was ever necessary when I studied abroad in 2006, from wandering down the tiny, windy alleyways of Tetuan, Morocco alone (not exactly Island Crest Way) to sleeping on the beach in Malaga (in theory this seemed like a great idea until I felt a mans hand in my purse trying to steal my passport). This year has been no different. Our travels never fail to create worthy lifelong stories.

This past weekend our friend and honoree third roommate, Nia, came over to go to the beach with us. Summer has arrived in Huelva and the thermostats read in the high 80's sometimes even into the 90s. Luckily we are only a quick bus ride away from the coast. After spending most my free time, that is, all week at Punta Umbria (nearby beach) we decided to try a different beach a little further away. The gods were clearly not in our favor because the wind blew constantly the entire time we were there. As beautiful as the beach was I just couldn't stand the sand shower the wind was creating. Whoever says sex on the beach is good is clearly lying and or has never done it. After spending a few hours at the local beachside bar we decided to take an earlier bus back home. After waiting for an hour or so we realized the bus wasn’t coming. Nia and Ngoc didn't have saldo (money) on their phones to call anyone and I refused to call any of the men who pester me with coffee date invitations and ask for a ride. It was either being stuck in Mazagon for who knows how long or hitchhike home.


I don't even think in the danger involved in most of the things I do now. I wish I could say I'm fearless but we all know that’s not the case. The way I look at it, we're all gonna die sometime, so might as well go down in an adventure. I sat shivering under the covered bus stop while Nia and Ngoc each took one side of the street with thumb in air. With every passing car our hope of getting a ride back to Huelva looked worse and worse. Finally, after thirty minutes of nothing but the standard rude, quizzical, Spanish stare we decided to just start walking. Ngoc thought making a sign would help whereas I was more of the mindset that taking off some layers of clothes might get a little more attention. Who knows what one worked but a handsome man driving an Audi pulled over and we screamed with joy that we wouldn't be stuck in Mazagon for the night. He was sporting none other than Ngoc's favorite outfit and was looking sharp in his suit. He told us he was late for a wedding in Seville. Please note, we needed to go to Huelva (the OPPOSITE direction). He said, "no pasa nada," and agreed to drive us home. As soon as he picked us up he did a U-turn and told us he needed to go back home to get something. The gun, I thought. Great. As he ran into his house Ngoc got out to snap a picture of me outside the car, I thought it would be a good idea to leave some clues for the police investigation that would follow as they were searching for our missing bodies in the Mediterranean. I remember seeing him come running down his front porch stairs with gym bag in tow. Too many movie scenes flashed in my head of killers with a gym bag slung over their shoulder with ropes, guns, knives, etc....as I wondered what his weapon of choice was I got a glimpse of his face for the first time and thought "you're good looking." Maybe death wouldn't be so bad, after all. I was quickly relieved of any stress because someone so good looking couldn't possibly be a bad guy. Right?

He turned out to be very nice and no harm was done. We arrived safely in Roque Barcia after his front door service and thanked him for his help. Hitchhiking might not be the safest thing around town but life’s too short to always be concerned about safety, just kidding Mom.... we will be taking the loser-cruiser (aka, the bus) from now on.

Besos,
Ally