I have had a streak of bad luck in the last three weeks. Next to lots of small grievances here are some bigger highlights: my motorcycle is actually too old to import for a decent price, my first dive didn’t go too well, I got an infection and ended up in the hospital, I got ‘kissed’ by a jellyfish, and that kiss didn’t agree with me and now to top it off, we experienced what a week of rain does to the roads of Malaga. I guess it is some cosmic payment for living in paradise and working in a job I love. Maybe it is testing me ‘How much I want it’. Maybe not and I am just an idiot… Who knows. I go with the cosmic payment story though! I am still a bit shaken up. Some of you know how much I love my car… I name my car, I puzzled over how I can keep my car and how to get the car down here. I remember the joy I felt as Arnold and I found the car back again and this time around I could pay it. The shape and airbrushed flames have been just like I always wanted my car to be if I dared to dream as a teenager. Steven, or how the dutchies call him, Vlammetje is of course just an object but at the same time so much more to me. We were just busy registering the car. We send the papers off and since the plates haven’t had changed yet, the car still was insured and therefore we decided to use the Saturday and finally buy some new clothes.
It’s been raining for a week now and we have been talking about that as we entered the roundabout. My memory is a bit fuzzy at this point. The back gave way and there was a lot steering and back steering and the vision in front of the window didn’t show the road anymore but the greenery and I realized that all the steering in the world would not change what was coming next. I mentally braced for impact. No chance to physically doing the same. The bang was more than I ever could have expected. The car hit the curb and the front wheels exploded. So did the airbags and filled the cabin with an unidentifiable pungent chemical smell and smoke. The car kept spinning and stopped finally 180 degrees from our original position with one wheel on the bus track and the other 4 still on the greenery. I think you have not much time to be scared. We checked on each other and then if we are actually unharmed our selves. Our bodies seemed fine. At least no blood and everything seemed still mobile. So we quickly got out of the car to see the damage for ourselves. In the meantime some guys that had seen the accident called the police and wanted to call for an ambulance, but we could talk them out of that. Police were of course mandatory.
Now that I knew Hass and I are fine, the severity of the damage hit me. We have been very lucky that we didn’t have a scratch even though my leg started hurting. Very likely a bruised muscle, but looking at the car, we could … or should have had much more. Hass seemed dazed too and all we could do was waiting for the police. After calming down a bit, I realised how bad things where. I forgot my wallet, papers and id at home and we both don’t speak sufficient Spanish, to explain all the exceptions and oddities about our paperwork. Starting with the German girl, having a Dutch license and a car registered on her ex-boyfriend with insurance in Amsterdam, from which the papers had been sent to Marbella. Good that no one needed to inquire about the British-Swedish one with the German driver’s license… but the police was half as bad. They allowed Hass to get my papers with a cab and as the insurance acted up, because of a mix up in payments and after scaring me a bit but then advising us to get Spanish insurance next time, they even called a tow truck for us. Now the waiting began in the pouring rain. Only tow truck available was in Malaga. So we needed to wait for about an hour and the police were obligated to wait with us till the obstruction was removed. I think I started crying a few times as I over and over realised, that my car has had its days. The window and rearview mirror are cracked, the front tires are flat, the driver side suspension or other things broke and the roof peeled and torn at several points. All in all, it might not be worth paying repairs and registration after all. Hass called to stop the registration into Spain and went off to get us some food at the legendary iFood burger truck. The policeman was amazed that we could eat after such an accident, but I explained (as usual that day with help of google translate) that we are both fine and our bodies still needed fuel. I hate what happened to my car, but we still need to have the energy to go home. They agreed and commended us on the choice of food. Hass just disappeared behind the truck as I got warned by the police, that the burgers were enormous with sign language.
After going through the 17 different choices of meat and another 10 minutes in the rain, I could convince myself of the stupendous size of these burgers. Not long after our food, some Spanish lessons from the police and a huge amount of pouring water, the tow truck arrived. Though bending my numberplate a bit more, with skill, care and the help of one policeman, he got my beloved on to the truck as save as you could in this state.
At home, there was nothing left for me than to drive it on to the driveway and try to disable the horn as much as possible with the airbags still hanging out of the steering column and I was ready for a stiff drink and my bed. So the morality of this story, if you have valid paperwork, the Spanish police is not the Spanish inquisition, even when it rained a few days, roads in Andalucia stay slippery and man in pointy hats are nothing to be scared off around Easter in Malaga.