A day at the beach

It began like any other day – with breakfast, a pee and a poo.  Not necessarily in that order.

The four of us – me, Mar, jan & Trev were heading to the beach.  The weather was so hot that the beach was the only place it was possibly to sit.  It’s amazing how the sea-shore can be so bearable and one street back it’s like a furnace.

So we went to the beach.

My day wasn’t going too great.  First my little beach-chair broke – so that went to the bin.  Then, the book I was reading just became more and more boring so that was metaphorically flung over my shoulder.  This left me sitting on the cool-box, squinting at all the passers-by.  Squinting, because I’d left my sun-glasses in the car.  Do I spend the rest of the day squinty-eyed or walk back to the car for my Ray Bans?

As I approached the car I observed that a Guardia Civil patrol car was parked across the bows of my car and the two officers seemed to be  civilly guarding it.

I introduced myself to them as the driver and then saw why it was being guarded – the passenger’s side rear-door window had been smashed.  I looked inside the car and the boot and thought that nothing had been stolen so the GS left the scene muttering something about “bandidos”.

I returned to the beach to inform the gang what had happened.  We quickly upped-sticks and went to the car.  The first thing Marian noticed was that her handbag was gone from the boot.  I’d forgotten it was in there.  Oh shit!

We rang the insurance broker who arranged for Carglass (Spanish Autoglass) to sort the window out which was done in an instant.  We were also told to report the theft and damage to – yeah you’ve guessed – the Guardia Civil.

Now Jan has been taking Spanish lessons for four years so we had little trouble finding their station.  In we walked – me Jan and Marian – Trev stayed with the car because of the broken window.  We marched timidly up to the reception window and Jan said to the officer on duty “…er …er …er coche… er playa… er…” he tapped on the window at a notice which informed us that if you can’t speak Spanish, come back with an interpreter.  I wonder what would happen if this happened to a muslim in the UK?

Jan again began ering and cocheing and playaing and again we were given the unsympathetic tap on the window.  I was absolutely furious at the obnoxious and unhelpful attitude and stormed out of the place swearing and shouting – as is my wont.  We went home and decided to ask the lovely Laura Smith to accompany me the following day.

We (me & Marian) made a list of all the contents of Mar’s handbag and I returned to the GS office for another ordeal accompanied by lovely Laura.

To cut a long story short – after two hours, Laura and I escaped from the cells – lucky to be alive, having been made to feel like a fucking criminal by another nasty bastard with a face like a bulldog licking piss off a thistle.  However I had the typed-statement all stamped and official to present to the insurance company.

I filled in a boring form and included a list of missing items plus a copy of the GS statement and sent the whole lot to our insurance broker.

I eventually received a terse reply saying contents of cars are not insured.  Check your policy as it appears that most policies are like this nowadays.  You’re in with a bit of a shout with a decent Home Insurance Policy but we have a policy with our bank who looked at us as though we had two heads when we mentioned it to them.

Another kick in the teeth for two people who already have bleeding gums!



About Stevie B

I retired to the sun in February 2010. I am far from bored but I do need an interest (preferably one that pays).
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