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Published: November 16th 2012
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We started this day with the reluctant realization that it was our last full day in south Spain. We planned to take the ferry to Cadiz. We wanted to visit the shops that were closed when we first went there. We had about 1.5 hour wait for the next ferry, so we walked around Rota for the last time.
We went back to the first place we visited the castle - Castillo de Luna, walked around and said our goodbyes. We stopped at an old world bakery just a few steps from the castle and bought some treats. We quickly regretted waiting until the last day to buy something from there.
The ferry, a nicely-sized catamaran, soon arrived. It was a beautiful ride across the Bay of Cadiz. We passed the Spanish naval fleet, el Puerto de Santa Maria, and a cruise ship. After docking, we had lunch at the same cafe where the crazy Belgium woman verbally assaulted us. This time, I was able to partake in a Spanish delicacy - paella, a rice dish filled with seafood and veggies. The Louisiana equivalent delicacy is the jambalaya; further proof of Spain's lasting influence on the state.
As
we leisurely strolled down the streets, we quickly realized that we had reached Siesta time. This is something that the Spanish take rather seriously. Many businesses actually close from 3 pm - 5:30 pm. Only a few places remain open. The main reason why we went back to Cadiz was to shop. Of course, the stores we wanted to go to were closed, so we had no choice but to kill time.
Our walk confirmed what I had previously said about old Cadiz, it is much bigger than we had originally thought. We discovered plazas that we hadn't seen the first time. There were probably enough cafes, restaurants, shops, etc. to fill at least 2 Malls of America. It got to be a bit overwhelming. It began to rain so we sought refuge at a small coffee shop.
Siesta ended and we were finally able to shop. With a few purchases tucked under our umbrellas, we headed back to the ferry landing. In the meantime, my cousin called to tell me that he was going out for the evening and that he would leave the house keys in his mailbox. I asked how would I get in touch
with him if something should go wrong. He gave me his only cell phone before we left the house that morning. I forgot why, maybe it was because I had trouble with my phone. I'm not sure. We didn't quite have a backup plan.
It stormed on the ferry ride back to Rota, but had slacked up by the time we docked. Once again, we walked around Rota for the last time. We picked up a pizza and took a cab back to my cousin's house. He left the front gate propped open with a pair of garden shears. I went to the mailbox and stuck my hand in to retrieve the keys. They slipped through my fingers and fell deep into the mailbox. I thought, let me put my purse and all this other stuff down and try to reach these keys.
This is where the nightmare began. I couldn't reach them. The mailbox was way too deep, plus it was high up on the wall. We really needed a ladder to easily see the top of it. My husband stood on top of an ice chest and tried to reach into the mailbox with the garden
shears. They were too big to reach deep into that box. At this point, I'm thinking one of the neighbors will see us and call the police. Oh we would be royally screwed because we wouldn't be able to explain anything.
Just as I had somewhat predicted, something had gone wrong. Terribly, and I couldn't call my cousin, AT ALL. I left frantic messages on his FB wall, but I knew they would go unanswered. I started going through his phone looking for his friends who were at the gumbo party. I called one but there was no answer. I didn't know the name of the friend of whose house he was supposed to be at that night either. The rain had stopped, but the temperature had dropped. At the very least, we were able to sit at the front door because he had left the front gate open. Obviously, this is not how we wanted to spend our last night in Rota, especially when we had to fly out the next day. This was not good.
I kept scrolling through his contacts looking for something, someone, anything to help. I finally came across "da maid." When we
first arrived, my cousin told us that he had a maid, and we teased him about it. With nothing to lose at this point, I called her. Of course, she spoke little English and didn't quite understand what I was saying, so she asked me to send her a text message, where she could translate the text into Spanish. In the text I told her who I was and everything that had happened. All I wanted to know from her is if she had a key to the house. After several texts back and forth, she finally agreed to come to the house to let us in.
All in all, only an hour had passed, but it felt like an eternity. When she arrived and unlocked the door, I gave her 20 Euro but she refused. I insisted that she take it. It was nothing compared to what she did for us. Cold, damp, and tired, we were finally inside. My cousin came in about an hour later. We thought for sure we wouldn't see him until the morning. Anyway, he got a good laugh out of our plight. He said, been there done that cuz. And that's how
our last night in Rota ended.
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