Graeme meets a Spanish policeman
19.04.2007 19 °C
We had a great drive 400 Km across southern Spain to Granada. The scenery improved from the skyscraper apartments of the tourist coast to the beautiful scenery of Andalucia where it is very like Australia but the valleys are deeper and the mountains higher.
We drove into Granada and stopped at a busy intersection being managed by a traffic policemen. Although the lights had just turned red the policeman waved us through and we set off in search off our hotel. Soon we were accompanied by two Spanish policemen on motorcycles who followed us closely for about 200m until signalling for us to pull over.
A stern faced young police officer came to the window and spoke in gruff Spanish tones, something that sounded like;
" ¡Madrid aranxa sanchez vacchario paella!"
Graeme replied, "Me no speaky Espanole kind signor"
The policeman gestured for Graeme´s license which unfortunately did not satisfy his official requirements. He managed to convey that he required an international driver´s license which, wouldn´t you know it, was in the hand luggage in the boot. After some rummaging the aforementioned license was located and then followed a conversation between the two officers.
The first officer then said to Graeme, "Fernando alonso barcelona sangria", which we took to mean, You went through a red light you knob head.
Graeme responded with, "But oh handsome and erstwhile officer, I was signalled through by a gentleman wearing similar clothing to yourselves".
To which both officers responded with a succinct, "No"
The first officer then gave us a lecture that went something like, "Placido domingo seville tapas flamenco!"
We shook our heads and they shook theirs and then we shrugged our shoulders and they theirs.
They then decided that we were a dead loss and that the only way out was a stern warning, " Penelope cruz pamplona antonio banderas!"
Graeme, now on a winning streak, pointed to the name of our hotel on a piece of paper and asked, "Where, oh kind senor, would we locate this place?"
The two chaps conferred, shrugged their shoulders and gestured to follow them.
We then were whisked through lanes way and boulevard, street and plaza and, can you dear reader believe it THROUGH A RED LIGHT with pòlice escort, one in front one behind, for about fifteen minutes to our hotel.
With a brief gesture they were off, and we didn´t even get to thank them.