I
4 ESO decided to accompany a trip to Barcelona (where this took place, it is not clear the thing), and so I broken a promise that lasted no less than 24 years exactly. The last and only long-excursion in which I participated was in 1987, my first year teaching in poor do Caramiñal. And these are the events for you to understand my decision:
A bus picked us up at Pobra to take us to Santtiago, 40 students, Cipri, Encarna and me. Well, the bus was late, and had to accelerate. Punctured a wheel, but followed the path to arrive on time. Us to the police. The driver allowed him to continue to Santiago, but I look at the tachograph and to drop a super-duper fine. We learned later that he removed the card. We take the train
Santiago-Barcelona. During the night the train stops unexpectedly. There is a buzz. We learn that someone has pulled the emergency brake (and we know then that was one of our students, an endangered animal to our lives), with such bad luck that goes into the policeman guarding a prisoner train. The guards reported compartments loaded with machine guns and seeing the tour, looks hatred.
We arrived in Barcelona. We spent 12 hours wandering around the city. How could it be otherwise, students enter through the streets of the Raval, of which we have to rescue them (go canvas the atmosphere in the Ramblas at the time ...), and in the midst of all kinds of tricks claims. San Clench I ask that it's time to take the boat to Mallorca.
the evening go to the ship. And the manager says there is a mistake: we have cabins, ie we have no place in the boat. Cipri, Encarna and I tremble: what we do with this bunch of elements, stranded at the port of Barcelona? In the end the thing is arranged, and all we have to sleep on deck. But bad luck was that there was a tremendous time (damn it, a storm in the Mediterranean ...), and we spent the night helping students vomitantes (ie vomiting greatly as a result of the roll). We
to Mallorca, and there was no increased incidence, except when we had to leave, and saw the state in which the rooms had left our dear students: were descendants of Attila, Genghis Khan? We went whistling rather than having to pay for the damage.
remember The return on a cloud.
why I never wanted to repeat the experience. Understandable, right?
Then one day you return from Santorini story of my sister Susan and me. Never you traveling with me, unconscious.
(The photo I took her my friend and companion in the Holy Family Cipri. Before the towers could climb to the top. In the picture I do not know if it shines through the panic I felt, supported on a stone and 200-meter drop down)
0 comments:
Post a Comment