Tales of the Lecrin Valley

A personal view of life in an andalusian village.

The last of the visitors has left and we no longer have to stay up til all hours socialising.  Although it is great to meet up with people you rarely see, having to go to work the following morning and repeat the same thing the next night tires you out, especially if one is at a delicate age such as I.  So we were delighted when Carmen’s cousin Juan Carlos and girlfriend Beatriz decided to stay with Carmen’s sister Luisa for a couple of weeks and we were left with relatively little socialising to do.  Luisa arranged for trips to all the usual sites of interest and one afternoon decided to go to the hamam, or Arabic Baths in Granada.  They went as a foursome with Luisa’s boyfriend Dani, all looking forward to a great experience.  They went for the whole shebang, baths, massage and mint tea to follow.  Dani, Luisa and Beatriz came out rejuvenated, skin pink and tingling and bodies relaxed and warm inside.  Juan Carlos evidently got a male masseur who had either just broken up with his girlfriend (or boyfriend, you can never tell),  had had his flat broken into or had just wrecked his car.  Whatever, Juan Carlos came out of the baths limping and swears his knee had been dislocated.  His skin had been all but ripped from his body and he kept glancing back over his shoulder as if scared that the masseur was coming after him to finish him off.  Personally, I hate massages and I couldn´t help supressing a smirk, but I’m sure Juan Carlos just got unlucky.  Anyway, it made for a good laugh over dinner and it gave me a bit of ammunition against having to go in the future.