Our villa in Grenada
Traveling with my usual companion, Ms. Dearie, is always wonderful. But when we were rejected from our hotel, due to a matter of disorganization on the part of the hotel staff, we were furious.
Of course disorganization isn’t an abnormal flaw in flimsy hotels, but after a sleepless night of travel on the Marrakech – Tangier express, followed by a ferry from Tangier back to Spain, then, having to suffer a broken down train, we were nearly mad. In retrospect we were brave to do that much traveling in only a day, but by the time we were escorted off the train, all we saw in our future was a grim and fearful night at the train station. With no where to go, and night slowly approaching, we were nearly hyperventilating.
So we did the only natural thing to do at a time like this- we bought 2 bottles of wine, and invited a couple Aussies who were also commiserating their poor luck and began our wait for the supposed “bus” to Grenada. The bus finally came, 3 hours late, and took us to our hotel where we were delivered the bad news.
With no where to go, we were upset at the manager. He took us aside and said, ” We have another place, not too far, but it will be a bit of a walk and if you don’t mind coming with me, I will show you the hotel”. We didn’t have any other options so we followed him… to a villa on a hill. It’s amazing how easily we can forget delusional exhaustion, hunger, and passionate infuriation when opening the door to your own little villa in Grenada.