Into Outer Mongolia

The Spanish Truck Stop – After a 10-hour day of driving

In the night, a little dog in the distance barked and yipped. “Don’t leave me here alone!” I heard him cry, over and over, as I pictured him tied to a roadside tree by an abandoning owner, left to starve, bewildered and alone.  Trucks pulled in and out of the highway layby all night, and muffled conversations brought imaginings of young women forced into prostitution, drug deals and various nefarious dealings that are hidden in the shadows during daylight. 

Although I felt reasonably safe locked inside our tiny camper home, I didn’t fall asleep until about 3:30, listening to the disturbing sounds around us. 

But now it is morning, and the sun is shining and the dogs at the neighboring kennel behind the olive trees are sleeping – or playing. The friendly truckers wave good morning as they climb into their cabs after a morning walk to relieve themselves in the line of trees beside the parking area. The one beside us changes from sneakers to slippers before climbing up, to keep the floor inside clean. I imagine that tonight he will return home to his wife and children, with stories of the beautiful French and Spanish countryside he has traveled through. The world seems a beneficent place again by the light of the rising sun. 

Which is the true story of this layby?  As passers through, we will never know.  Were there frightened prostitutes and drugs? It’s possible. Were the truckers snug inside their cabs, calling their kids before turning in to get rested for the day ahead? Just as likely. We observe the world that others live in, imagining our own stories to complete the fragments of what we see.  What do they imagine about us?

The Journey to Spain

As we flew along the highway south to Spain from Germany, we stopped briefly in France to see a dear friend from our Lyon days.  But before meeting Michele, I had more urgent business to attend. Our iPhones were not taking a charge from the lighter-charger in the van.  Mine had completely depleted, and Joe’s was winding down.  They didn’t charge with the outlet in the van’s kitchen, either. Suddenly, our navigation systems, flashlights, communication devices and wifi hotspot were gone, and I worried that we had somehow blown them out when charging them in Bad Nauheim at the hotel.  So the first stop was the Apple Store in Lyon, at the Centre Commerciale Part-Dieu. Fortunately, I knew it well, from when we lived there. Unfortunately, the van was too tall for the parking garage underneath it, but Joe found a good spot on the street to park the van.  Joe and Jacob stayed in the camper to unpack while I set out to solve our technical problems and shop for necessities – household goods and food.

Have you ever been in an Apple Store?  About 100 people filled the large room, standing at tables and playing with the newest phones, iPads and laptops.  Some would be fetched by workers to the Genius Bar, where they waited to be helped, presumably by geniuses.  No one ever came for me, and I couldn’t figure out the system to get in the queue for help.  I did discover, however, when I unplugged one of the iPads and used its charger to plug in my iPhone, that my phone wasn’t broken.  It charged just fine.  So I stood at my table, ostensibly testing out the new iPad, while it slowly drained its battery and my iPhone charged on its pirated juice.  

After that, it was off to the Orange Telecom store to buy a new European burner phone for Joe, as we had planned.  It took a while, but I managed pretty well in French, with a little help from a clerk who spoke less English. Then it was off to Darty, where iPhone chargers and car adapters were on sale.  After that, the Carrefour Hypermarket met all my other shopping needs.  I met Joe and Jacob back at the van just as Michele arrived, and we had a delightful salmon pizza lunch together before setting off again for Spain, promising to return in the spring.  

The new car charger works just fine, but we have discovered that the electrical outlet in our kitchen wall doesn’t work at all. This may be a problem if we can’t get it fixed, as my computer and other electronics (especially the small electric kettle I bought at Darty) need to be plugged in at some point.  We will work on solving that problem when we get to Granada.

Meanwhile, the highway that winds along the Mediterranean Costa del Sol through the orange groves of Valencia – and the lingering taste of the orange we got a truck stop an hour ago – remind us that we are in Spain, and that we are beginning the adventure of a lifetime.  Electricity can wait.  We may or may not make it to Granada today.  We’ll be fine either way.