CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN WITH THE DRUNK FOR LUNCH BUNCH

I like to say, ‘ I retired on Friday, got married on Saturday and the following Tuesday left on a three year honey moon.’ Actually it was three weeks before we could leave on the honeymoon and it only lasted for two years and eight months. We spent three months touring England, Scotland and Wales, then over to Belgium and a small section of Germany. By November we were in Spain and it was getting very cold, so we headed for the east coast and found an apartment in Javea, pronounce hav-ve ah, which had a reputation for being warm, and a haven for English speakers.
Javea was an English retirement community where the bars were called pubs and titled, The Fox and Hounds, The Crown, etc. It had two English lending libraries, a British butcher who sold bangers and beans, two animal rescue groups and English speaking movies every Tuesday and Thursday. The first time we appeared in public, I ordered two glasses of red wine as Marilyn stared out at the large group settled in wicker chairs, letting the sun turn their faces a beet red. She wondered if we could fit in. I smiled and asked it she wanted that. Her nod led me to the pub’s porch. I raised my glass and called out ‘ Ladies and gentlemen, To The Queen!’ The portals opened with a loud bang. Or rather with a loud HERE HERE!
Our first friend was Frankie. ‘I’m a flamboyant faggot!’ was how he responded to our offering him a drink. He also said the drink was on him because he had money if nothing else. Turned out his mother ‘ Owns half of Brighton, and my accountant killed me off two years ago and by the time the tax fellows find out that’s a lie, I’ll be dead from all this drinking and fags anyway!’ Oh, a fag is a cigarette for the non English folks. It seems that cheap fags and cheap booze were the main reasons to settle in Spain. At the time it was not in the EEC and taxes were low.
There was another reason for lots of other folks locating there. They were minor criminals and at the time Spain did not honor warrants. Most were smugglers, mainly cigarettes into the EEC. Fags in Spain were 45 American cents. In the EEC they ran about $8.00 a pack. Booze was dirt in Javea, but very dear in the EEC. So it was a natural taxi area for anyone wanting to make a quick pound or mark. The bars had staggered hours so one could be drunk day and night, and most were. One retired ‘Bobby’ had a mobile home parked by their current watering hole. So it goes.
By Christmas, we were ‘ The best Yanks we’ve ever met, and Marilyn decided to give a Christmas lunch. ‘ Four or five should show up,’ she offered as we made meat balls, bought cookies, bread and rolls, and of course really cheap wine. Cheap . . .about $. 75 cents US got something you could drink. Somewhere over fifty crowded into our two bed room flat. ( See I’m a Brit again!!) They devoured everything in half an hour and pretty soon they were sending someone out to restock the wine. And here comes the joker in the deck. ‘ you know Rife, ( Rief was always mispronounced) you and Marilyn really went over board getting that expensive wine. So it goes. Juan Carlos Brandy ran about $4.00 for a full liter, but we were also chided after we broke out the two bottle we kept on hand. ‘ Rife! Have you tried XXXXX what ever? It’s half the price! So it goes. We left for Morocco in April by way of Seville and it’s insane Easter pageant.
Why would I ever suggest anyone would be stupid enough to eat a wooden pickle? Well, because wooden pickles seldom look like wooden pickles!!!!! Don’t get it yet? You will!!
On to the Easter Pageant! It’s absolutely, totally insane. And unforgettable.