Las Cucarachas, and i don't mean the song or dance. Part 4.
After a fitful night dodging ever more beasts, we determined this was it, help is required. The professionals are on their way. Two men arrive wearing white suits, goggles and gloves and carrying what can only be described as flame throwers and tanks of fuel, or maybe it is chemicals, we are not allowed in on the secret. Spanish neighbours see and talk to us in broken English, why don’t foreigners speak our language? We tell them of our nights of hell and destruction, our lack of sleep, and David, pronounced Da vid, tells us ‘es norm al’
‘No,’ I cry, ‘ no es norm al, we are British, we don’t do cockroaches.’ He explains in his broken English, ‘There has been no road washers for two days, now they come and wash the shit, I think he meant dust and rubbish, down and we end up with it and las cucarachas, es norm al.’
We are moved along by the men in chemical suits and told to stay away for a while and made to promise we will not lift the sewage drain covers. I did try to explain that is the furthest thing from our minds, ‘as if,’ I said ‘do you not realise we are British,’ it fell on deaf ears.
We left them to it and tried to regain some sanity on the beach. The husband set off on his constitutional walk down the golden sandy beach, I am too lazy for that. He returned his tan faded and looking sickly, ‘Have you got heat stroke or something?’ I ask sounding concerned, he did look odd. He sits down beside me and says. ‘You know the nudist beach at the other end of the beach, we have never been to in the 14 years of coming here.’
‘Of course I do why?’
‘I’ve just been there, I didn’t realise it was so close.’
‘And?’
‘It was horrible, I feel ill.’
‘Why, what happened?’ Mildly interested now, what could be so horrible on a nudist beach, I mean men just look funny naked and women, well I don’t look.
He said.‘I sauntered on not sure I was on that beach at first because I had just walked past the public beach and a group of little kids building sand castles, and there he stood, bearing his all, legs apart chest stuck out jaw chiselled and to be honest, half-cocked. I turned to look at the children, yes, there were parents present so it was not my responsibility to say anything. I walked on and noticed at least ten men all naked in various poses, I searched for a woman, but no, I was in the middle of 11 naked men, I turned and ran, they are on chairs with legs wide open, standing swaying on the water’s edge, it was awful, take me home.
‘What about the cucarachas back there?’ I ask concerned. He mumbled incoherently, for a while, I gave him water and led him to the car.
That night we did a reccy for any remaining beasts, we found three dead ones on the stairs, two live ones in the bathroom, hubby stood staring, ‘Okay, this is it, I have had enough’ he says picking them up by the antennas after battling them to the ground first.
‘What’s this?’ I say ‘what’s happened, how can you pick them up like that, I don’t understand’?
‘I have spent the morning surrounding by men swinging their bits in the breeze, believe you me after surviving that catching a few bugs is child’s play.’ BYE BYE beasties, and yes, I have booked him in for therapy.