26 outandaboutlive.co.ukSeptember 2019
Motor muse mnthly
MMM’s travelling Luddite somehow manages to cram sex,
booze andgambling into the recollection of a coastal stroll in Spain
A
s I may haveintimated i n the past, I likethe letters section
of MMMandthus eagerly anticipate its bulky presence
dropping through the letterbox every month. Damaging
the loor whenit comes to a halt. Ye s, IknowI could havesaved
all the hassle of installinga specially strengthened MMM-proof
hallway loor bybuyingthe magazinefromthe internet in the
currently fashionable downloadable form, but I just can’t get used
tothe paperless experience.
Withregards to all this internet usage I’malsoa bitsuspicious
of justhow much informationcan
bebeamedbacktothe powers-
that-beevery timeweswitcha
computer on.Surely you’veall
noticed the increasingly interlinked
activity between all the websites
you use on aregular basis? It
seemsthat they areall swapping/
selling informationabout our
preferencesanddesires, sothat
our buying/character weaknesses
canbeassessed andutilised.It’s
bad enoughgetting emails from
Sagafrom theveryday you turn
37, butall the adverts and emails
pushing alcohol, cigarettes, sex and
gambling haven’t appeared onmy
screen bycoincidencehavethey?
But all thatis by-the-byreally,
becauseit’s mainly justthatI prefer
a piece of paper thatdoesn’t require
charging-upeverytwo minutes,
and canbeleft lying about onthe
beach, oronyourfavourite chair;
left withoutthe worriesof sand
or salt wreckingit, the battery
expiring, orthe likelihoodof casual
theft.Plus,the riskof someone
mistakenly sitting onit.
Obesity is only a serious
problem ifit lands onyourprecious
tablet. Mainly because you’veleft it
hidden under a discarded garmentawayfromthe pryingeyesof
the nefariousminority.
I’mnot sure how this small slightly random kindof rant
(rantette?) got towhere it is, but originally what I wasgoing to
pointoutwas thatwequite likethe idea of inding alarge hole in
the hallway loor witha pile of magazines, junk mail andspurious
ads for sex,boozeandfagslying in the bottomwhenweget home
from one of ourexpeditions in the campervan tosomewhere
warmer andless frenziedthanthe DisunitedQueendom.“She promptly stripped of (withut
orryingabut havingforgotenher
cosie) and threwherself inthe sea”
So, at last, tothe nub of the matter,after havingjustreturned
fromSpain after acouple of months, andstarted the heavy work
of readingthe variouslettersin MMMregalingusall withtheir
experiences. heybrought backtomind ataleworth telling.
Well, wethought so. Althoughit may havebeenmerather more
thanMrs Moan.
Briely, wewandered of towalk the coast froma campsite
we’d settled onfor afew days, and cameupona verybeautiful
beach at lunchtime, andwherewe decided toconsume lunch.
Always leaveyourcheese‘n’
onionbuttiesoutin the midday
sun to marinade for half-an-hour
orsobeforeconsumption is
myadvice.
It was aglorious day, the place
wasdeserted,the azure waters
invitingand Iwas consideringa
quickplunge, but hadnocossie
withme.
A quickplungebecause the
Mediterraneanis far toocold in
winter for aproper dip.
Sotherewe were, my
good(ish) ladycalling mea wimp,
whena youngladyappeared
andinterrupted ourlonely
contemplations.
Shepromptly stripped of
(withoutworryingabout having
forgotten her cossie) andthrew
herself in the sea.
“Waitforthe screams,” saysI.
But no, not a whimper.“Shewon’t
bein there long,” Istate, asthe
voiceof experience, and Inow had
visionsof havingtorescue this fair
young maiden whenshe inevitably
gothypothermia.
And being awimp, this wasn’t a
prospect Iwaslooking forwardto.
But, again, no, and 20minutes
later, she was still swimming aroundwithout anyapparent
problemswhatsoever.
God, butthese Spanish ladiesare tougharen’t they?
Out she cameeventually (oneof those Ursula Andress
moments but abitmore) without asinglegoosebumpuponher.
Obviously I didn’t check tooclosely. “A gua,frio?” saysI, andit was
the reply thatmadethe whole tale somemorable.
“No,”she says. “I’mfromCornwall, that’s likea warmbath.”
MySpanish is obviously rubbish.