A Day to Remember…

It had been a planned excursion; the in-laws were to head to the historic town of Arta and we were having a day beside the pool. However nature had her way and as the clouds gathered we decided to join them in their trip, baby and all. Upon arrival at the hire car (a modern, but tiny, Ford Fiesta) my husband agreed to let his mother drive: something I have only ever seen following an evening of aperitifs! Thus followed a slightly hairy time through the back roads of Majorca, accompanied by a running commentary of jibes. What my husband did not seem to grasp was that with each quip his mother’s driving grew a little worse and so by the time we arrived at our destination we were all a little green and worse for wear.

That Day in Arta was unremarkable and did not include much worth recounting. We wandered the streets in amongst several hundred German tourists; dodged the showers; stopped for coffee and glanced at trinkets in shops. Several hours later we returned to the aforementioned Fiesta to begin what would become the momentous journey home.

Five of us squashed into the little vehicle, like something from a novel. The men took the front with Matthew commandeering the keys from his mother and his stepfather needing a more ‘spacious’ area (as much as was possible) due to a bad back. And so my mother-in-law and I wedged ourselves into the back alongside the car seat containing my four month old daughter who was grizzling away and in need of a snooze following Our Day Out.

(It is worth mentioning at this point that after weeks of training Olivia was conditioned to fall asleep to the sound of a vacuum cleaner on my iPhone. The result being this sound followed wherever I went and, at the point of this tale, was filling the back seat of The Ford Fiesta.)

As we skirted around the ancient town it was announced that we needed to refuel the hire car before its collection that evening. The limited (but free) map of the island sported a black circle around what purported to be a fuel station just a few kilometres from where we were. The black clouds were circling but the heavens had not fully opened and so we ventured towards the town of Son Severa in search of gasoline. As we approached the clouds parted and what had been a light shower became raindrops the size of grapes pounding the roof of the Fiesta making the hoover noise almost redundant. The baby drifted off to sleep despite the racket and it seemed as though our journey to the fuel station would be without event as we turned off the main road to a junction marked ‘Son Severa’.

Tranquility however, was not to be order of the day and as we drove further off the dual carriageway the roads grew narrower until they could hardly be called roads anymore. As if orchestrated by a master puppeteer at the same time the elements combined to increase to a dramatic monsoon accompanied by forked lightening. At this point the Missionary began clutching her head in her hands and praying for divine intervention punctuated by cries of ‘Help’ to no one in particular. Meanwhile the baby that just moments before was sound asleep awoke with great vigour and proceeded to scream as though she had never been fed in her life.

While the commotion in the back of the Fiesta grew greater and greater and the streets narrower and narrower, my husband seemed to relish the challenge of navigating and grew faster with each turn of the wheel. All this with sign of a fuel station at any point.

After we had endured the winding streets for over ten minutes and the baby’s cries had failed to abate even slightly, the decision was made that we might pull over and at least feed her if we could resolve no other problems in the car we could at least amend that situation! The question then arose as to where to pull in, as the narrow streets offered little opportunity for one car to get through let alone space to stop. The monsoon continued outside and the lightening was now coupled by horrendous thunder claps every few seconds. Eventually we came upon what looked like a supermarket although it was difficult to be sure beneath the deluge. Nonetheless there was a sizeable car park outside and so Matthew swung the Fiesta into the first available space at break neck speed. First thing was to mute the hoover sound which had blasted non-stop throughout the eventful trip and failed to soothe the baby at any stage. Once that was done I quickly plucked her from her car seat and into my lap so I could feed her. The raindrops continued to pound the roof and the lightening was certainly getting closer.

At this point the Missionary decided to take matters into her own hands, as any good missionary does, and leapt from the vehicle in search of a supermarket worker to ask for directions to the, what we now believed to be mythical, fuel station. After an exchange involving lots of gesticulation and, one presumes, Spanglish, she returned to the vehicle like a slippery otter and relayed the news that the garage was but 200m from our current location. We must have passed it several times.

Once the baby was fed the car was pivoted round and we began the ‘short’ journey to our end goal. Alas, we were to be scuppered again as a flood now blocked our path. A 4×4 might just have made it through but the tiny Fiesta was not likely to even begin to manage the task. And so a diversion had to be found. This led to further pleas for assistance from the back, laughter from the front and squeals from the baby who, although now satiated, was thoroughly bored of her car seat and sought freedom desperately! The only diminution in the chaos was the hoover which had not been restarted since the feeding stop.

After another lap around the town and several more prayers from the Missionary we arrived at the fuel station; ironically having used more petrol during the search than we had previously! The master puppeteer was at work once again and as the fuel cap was replaced the rain abated and lightening disappeared altogether. Relief was tangible. Peace was restored, as much as is possible after such an endeavour, and we finally made our way back to the hotel.