Cristina Hodgson
FINALLY, after SIX weeks, we have been given permission to go outside.
I was just as excited, or perhaps more so, than my kids.
I even applied a dab of make-up, I didn’t dare try to squeeze myself into any of my jeans however. No point in ruining the day by confirming the extra kilos I’ve put on.
First time I’ve worn a bra in weeks too, not that I would admit to it publicly.
My daughter also went out of her way to choose a special outfit which included her favourite WHITE flowery trousers.
It had been raining all night and was still drizzling when we left the house. The temptation of splashing in muddy puddles ‘Peppa Pig’ style was more than real. But I didn’t have the heart to ask her to change.
I did find it unsettling that as we walked along, there was NOBODY else out on the streets.
All that enveloped us was an eerie silence and the drizzling rain.
I panicked that perhaps I’d got the date wrong and that the partial lift on lockdown restrictions hadn’t come into force yet.
Or was the weather to blame? After all it was drizzling and I know the Spanish, especially those in Andalucia, aren’t as mentally prepped to deal with rain as born and bread British nationals.
But surely the taste of freedom would surpass a spot or rain?
My kids were having the time of their lives at any rate. They were running and jumping and splashing in every puddle we came across until they were both soaking wet and the white trousers weren’t quite so white anymore.
After walking for a one kilometre, the permitted distance, it was time to turn around and head home.
Much to my alarm, just as we were about half-way home I spied a random Guardia Civil checkpoint included five guardias AND three Policia Local cars.
Now I really panicked. After an hour I still hadn’t come across ANYONE else and though I live inland, it’s in a town of 25,000-plus inhabitants, not exactly an isolated hamlet.
I’d obviously got the dates wrong and was on the verge of facing the mortifying humiliation of getting told off in front of my kids.
As we neared, all five Guardia Civil together with the local police halted their chit-chat to stare at us.
I was overwhelmed with guilt. Had I been carrying ten kilos of hashish down one of my trouser legs I would probably have looked more innocent.
There was nothing for it, but to brace myself from the shear embarrassment of getting a rap from the authorities in front of my kids.
But then my daughter chirped out ‘Buenos dias!’ to them all.
There was a moment of awkard silence, before they all broke into a smile and wished us a pleasant walk.
And it was the BEST walk ever!
