It is obvious that we love traveling, if it wasn’t like that why would we bother writing about our trips and adventures? And we love traveling in any form or shape: a weekend no-plan getaway, discover new corners in the city we live, be surprised by a new destination in our holiday weeks. Yes, in a 5-star hotel we would be glorious, but then our budget would be impossible, so we head for more modest accommodation, so what? In the end what we remember of our trip is not where we slept but what we saw, what we ate, who we shared this or that moment with…
We like to plan our trips, of course, and it depends on the place and the time we have we adjust that trip to its best potential, planning what to visit, where to stay or what to eat. But let’s be real, we aren’t that organized. We rarely organize things to the last minute, and that gives us unrepeatable moments. Those “unrepeatable moments” go from magical and sweet situations to the most embarrassing moments where the sentence “please, shoot me now ” comes to mind. Well, some days, like today, is the time to share those situations.
Sleeping in the streets (2008)
In winter 2008, we decided to visit Asturias (in the north of Spain) from Madrid. Nacho was the only one who had a driving license, so he was the one doing the 446 kilometers between the two regions and the one that drove around while we were there. One of those days, we stopped at a village called Cangas de Onis and we had lunch at one of those restaurants with daily menu. For your information, in Asturias, the food portions are not normal. So when we ordered fabada (a typical dish with giant beans, blood sausage and chorizo, all of the region), they didn’t serve us a dish for each of us: they gave us the pot in which it was cooked for the both of us. You could serve 6 plates from the pot (3 for each one!) and then came the second course and the dessert besides the cider we had too.
Once you leave a restaurant in Asturias, you don’t walk, you roll. So full up, tired and sleepy, it would have been irresponsible to drive the distance that we had from our hotel (100km). So we decided to roll down the car seats and had a two-hour siesta in the middle of any given street of the village. What a site we must have been! When we opened our eyes, people looked at us probably thinking “craaaaaaaaaazy!” or “homeless!”
Please, shoot me now!
Not cut out for the tribe (2011)
When Nacho lived in Angola, we made a trip to the south and met Kihimu, a chief of his tribe (Mucubai). We wouldn’t have found the paintings we were looking for without his help. It would be unrepeatable that moment where 5 travelers were trying to convince a mucubai with mimics to get on the car and guide us. When we were going back and heading to Kihimu’s campsite, Nacho realised that he would have never been able to be a “Mucubai man”. You see, he is poorly at orientation and when we headed on the dark night to the campsite (we could see something because of the car lights) there were no signs or marks on the roads, but Kihimu knew exactly where he was. That would have been impossible to Nacho (and for the rest of us) who gets lost after 3 turns.
And if that wasn’t enough, the next morning, the Mucubai women came to greet us and to share some breakfast. It was clear that we wouldn’t even have been part of the “women of the tribe” when they laugh at us trying to start a fire. We didn’t understand each other, but we understood:
–Can’t you see that branch is wet? How do you think is going to lit? You have the ashes from last night! Pay attention, a small stick and blow (Note the scolding mother tone)
And the fire that we were waiting for appeared.
Please, shoot me now!
The queen and her slave (2014)
When we travelled to Kathmandu, I was wondering around by myself a few days. And I wanted to visit the Monkey Temples. The initial idea was to walk to it, however, when I asked they all said it was an hour long (no sign at all) and I didn’t feel like it. So I decided to take a rickshaw. The boy/guy who rode it could have had between 15 and 30 years old (it was undesirable for me). Bargaining the price he said that the ride wasn’t an easy one, and I thought he was looking for some extra money, so I put my foot down, and that was the end of it.
In the beginning, everything was ok, not too much effort. And suddenly a steep road down, the boy/guy gets off the bike and makes sure to break preventing me flying over the rickshaw. Then it was a steep road up, he gets off the bike again and pushes the bike up. And the rest of the trip continued like that, one up, one down and meanwhile I was like a queen but inside I wanted to die seeing that poor beardless boy/guy pushing my weight and the bike’s. I couldn’t believe the people coming in the other direction were relaxed! I was enslaving that boy/guy, so of course when we arrived at the Monkey Temple, I agreed with him and paid him what he asked for.
Please, shoot me now!
Like royalty and owing money (2016)
When we visited Esfahan (Iran) this year, we had another of those moments. When you travel to Iran you have to know that you can’t withdraw money or use a credit/debit card. So all you take are € or $ and you change currency along the way. We took a lot of money (and only spent less than half), but it was preferable than being short of it. Of course, we didn’t change it all at once. That would have been losing money in the exchanges. So in Esfahan, we had rials and dolars.
One night we headed to a highly recommended restaurant (and a really good one) very hungry. So on our way we were day dreaming of what we were going to eat with all those Rials we had (which they were a lot knowing how much a meal costs in Iran). We entered a beautiful restaurant and ate delightful food.
-Can we have the bill, please?
We put together all our Rials and we still needed more (it was only 2€ ), we wanted to die. How was that possible? We were carrying a lot of money! And furthermore, we were bragging about all the money we were going to spend and all the food we were going to eat! We explained it to the waiter as we could (not because he couldn’t understand English, but because we were so ashamed that we didn’t know what to say). He counted the cash, looked at the bill…
“It’s ok, no problem!” he said. But this didn’t make us feel better.
Please, shoot me now
For sure you have gone through one of those crazy moments, a situation where the sentence “please, shoot me now” was the only adequate one, tell us about it in the comment section.