The Return to Madrid

The bus leaves Mazarron late, about 4:30 so it doesn't get into to Madrid until about 10:30. Our bus got in at 11, because our driver for the trip back was an easy, care-free fellow.

On the way down, our driver considered pressing the brake petal a personal affront to his sacred honor, and we made better time. It was also fun watching him yell, gesture and honk at other drivers, but I digress.

On the way back to Madrid, our driver popped in a couple of movies and if you're stuck on a bus for 6 hours, the only thing that could possibly be better than a Van Damme movie is a Van Damme movie that's dubbed entirely into Spanish.


About halfway through the trip, the bus pulls over at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere, and the driver announces "triente minutos" which translates roughly into "from now until whenever I feel like going again."

So you race from the bus to the bathrooms, grab a ham and baguette sandwich, race outside and sit on the steps, munching your lunch and staring at your bus so it doesn't leave without you. Once the driver has finished his smoke, he pops on the bus, all the people lurking on the steps file on and he leaves. There's no checking to see if everyone made it or not. If there's no one else climbing aboard it's time to go!

Anyway, before we left Mazarron, my Aunt had fixed us an enormous farewell lunch, plus a hefty meal for the bus. We weren't hungry at the rest stop, so we just strolled around in front of the bus, enjoying the feeling of standing.

About an hour or so later though, we started getting munchies, but were unsure if eating was allowed on the bus. We hadn't seen anyone else eating, so we decided to just use our super sneaky secret-agent ninja skills while we ate so we wouldn't get in trouble.

Thus began the infamous "Banana Incident."

"Want a banana?" BSA whispered.
"Sure." I answered.
She handed me the fruit, I cracked the top and began eating, smirking as BSA struggled to open hers while keeping it out of eye view.
"Oh sure, I get the defective one!" she said.
I may have laughed. "Ha ha" may have been my exact words. I don't remember, because as I went to unpeel the last third of my banana, the slippery sucker popped right out of the peel, arching high into the air like a little yellow dolphin as it flew behind me.

Fortunately, it landed in the aisle about three rows behind us and not in somebody's lap. The banana flopped around a bit and then proceeded to bounce madly down the aisle towards the driver. I tried to hop out and grab it, but I couldn't get the arm rest down, so I lunged over the top of the rest, bending double to grab the banana as it passed my seat. I managed to get the banana, but when I lunged my foot had connected with the little garbage can attached to the bottom of the seat in front of me, kicking it off it's supports with a loud crack.

I dumped the banana in a bag and fixed the garbage can, studiously ignoring all the disgusted glares from my fellow passengers.

Except the old lady across from me. She was laughing her head off.