It’s a random chat with a fellow Brit in the hostel kitchen that sparks what turns out to be one of my funniest adventures to date! Eddy and his friend Vivi (from Germany) have a hire car and are heading to Granada tomorrow – I casually invite myself along for the ride.
We’re joined by Tom (an Aussie) and Aida (from the USA) and once all of our stray limbs are crammed like sardines into the hire car, it’s an hour and half car ride through the Andalusian mountains to Granada.
We amuse ourselves with a singalong Spotify jam car ride to pass the time. The first stop is the Granada vista tourist shot - it takes about five attempts to try and squish all five of our massive heads and the background in at the same time.
Walking along the vista, we’re distracted by the world’s largest colony of ants doing a conga line across the ridge – I’m mindful not to create ant pate with my trainers…
The early afternoon is spent enjoying a cappuccino on a restaurant terrace overlooking the monument. Plans are drawn up to visit the local supermarket and to make a DIY picnic lunch, somewhere scenic in the Granada sun (forever the optimists).
As we take a brisk walk down the hill, some rather ominous looking clouds are forming above. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a tree full of ripe looking oranges. Not one to miss out on the novelty of an orange wielding climate, I hitch a ride atop of Vivi’s shoulders, scrumping for the world’s smallest orange.
As we exit the supermarket with our picnic spoils, we’re started by a deafening crash of thunder, bellowing out through the skies. As the heavens open, we make a life-or-death dash across the road, to the shelter of a closed restaurant’s sun canopy - who’d have known it was monsoon season in Granada?
Wanting to make the best of a bad situation, I assume the role as the group’s sandwich chef, stuffing the baguettes full of humous, cheese, olives and crisps. It’s incredible how resourceful you can be with a humous lid (acting as a makeshift knife). We commandeer one of the restaurant’s plastic tables as a kitchen work station and settle in for the afternoon.
As the rain crashes down, sheltered under the canopy, we amuse ourselves with a newly devised ‘inappropriate word association throw and catch game’, using the world’s smallest orange as a ball.
We spend the next hour or so, sheltering from the rain, chugging cans of beer, laughing and stuffing our faces full of gourmet baguettes. As the downpour shows no signs of relenting, we seek refuge in a nearby bar for, you guessed it…more beers!
The friendly waitress brings over a small bowl of courtesy tapas: although you’d be forgiven for thinking they were a newly castrated pair of testicles, smothered in a rather suspicious looking gravy, garnished with a meagre handful of chips. Perhaps it was the gourmet lunch, but suddenly I have lost my appetite…
On the rather rainy walk back to the hire car, we pass a large, modern looking, open plan office. Through the panoramic window, I make awkward eye contact with a random office worker: unsure on what else to do, I smile and wave awkwardly, before making a hasty exit, stage left.
On the treacherous trek back up the hill, Vivi kindly ascends via every single puddle, splashing my already rather damp shorts and t-shirt. It seems that every single item we pass on the route up provides yet more amusement – from sifting through skips to one climbing inside an abandoned sofa. Who says entertainment has to cost the world?
Before the heavens opened 📸
We never did take a good picture tbh 📸
Scrumping for oranges 📸
Gourmet lunch 📸
Vivi approves of my culinary skills 📸
Might give the tapas a miss tbh 📸
Checking out the interior of an abandoned sofa 📸
