Have you ever been in a foreign country and found yourself wondering if your cab driver might be kidnapping you? Well – this did happen to me once. And I suspect that it’s not all that uncommon (the suspicion as opposed to the actual kidnapping). I mean, with language barriers, unfamiliar scenery and standard issue paranoia – it seems like this could happen to the best of us.
Or – maybe it’s just me. Either way, here’s my story.
In September of 2000, Chris and I got married and then flew to Spain for a two week honeymoon in Andalusia. We stayed in Malaga, Marbella/Puerto Banus and Seville. And while we were in Puerto Banus, we decided to make a quick trip to Great Britain.
Yes – you read that right – we left the sunny beaches of the Costa del Sol so that we could enjoy an cool, overcast day in the city of Gibraltar. This British territory shares a border with Spain, and was just an hour drive from our hotel.
Our hotel was beautiful, but after a few days relaxing by the pool with a book, I got at little bored with my sedentary pursuits. Not the kind of bored that made me want to fly home and leave the fun filled vacation of suntanning and tapas bar hopping of course. But the kind that made me feel the need for a day trip.
So that morning at breakfast, I pulled out our trusty Andalusia book and said, “I’m tired of looking at topless German supermodels at the pool – I have to have an activity today.” And while Chris probably didn’t quite agree about the topless German girls, he was happy enough to leave the hotel to have a little adventure.
One of the reasons that we selected Gibraltar was that we would get to enjoy a drive along the coast. It was a beautiful day and the hour long cab ride felt more like minutes as we took in breathtaking views of sun sparking on sea.
Then we saw “the rock.” It’s almost shocking to see Gibraltar looming on the horizon. It is literally a giant rock under an ominous looking cloud. We immediately dubbed it, “Danger Island.”
While it’s not technically an island, it does kind of look like one as you’re driving down the coast.
I won’t go into detail about our arrival at Danger Island (where we brushed elbows with armed soldiers), or the time we spent there (purchasing hand stitched lace pillow cases and hearing jokes about Monica Lewinsky from the locals). But I will say that my only regret is that we didn’t take the cable car up to the top of the rock for a view of Africa. Oh well – maybe next time.
When departed Gibraltar later that afternoon, I was very ready to put my shopping bags at my feet and close my eyes. Between the walking and the overcast sky I was feeling rather sleepy, and within minutes of entering the cab, I had dozed off.
At some point I felt sun on my face, and peered out from under my sunglasses to see that we were in fact, back in Spain proper. But the expected view of sun sparkling on sea had inexplicably been replaced by green hillside vistas.
While groggily trying to make sense of this new scenery, I realized that my husband was engaged in an animated conversation with our cab driver. This was no surprise since he feels the need to “chat” with pretty much anyone within a ten foot radius. But the fact that we were so obviously NOT driving back up the coast, made me extremely curious. I thought that if I could hear what they were saying, I would surely be clued into where the hell we were going.
Unfortunately, I don’t speak Spanish – so I was going to have to ask Chris to translate. Right before I sat up and announced my confusion though, the city girl in me held out a cautionary hand. Something wasn’t right. I mean, we were being chauffeured by the Spanish equivalent of a gypsy cab driver, and we were obviously not taking the familiar route back.
My first thought was that it might be a short cut. But in researching our day trip, we did look at a map which clearly showed the coastal road was the most direct route. I may be map-challenged, but Chris is practically a human GPS system. So he would be aware that we were taking the long way.
I had to conclude that we weren’t going back to the hotel – or at least not directly. And the fact that Chris and the cab driver were now BFFs indicated that they had made a decision to…well, I wouldn’t know would I? Because I was asleep when said decision was made.
At this point City Girl started fuming. What the hell was Chris thinking? This stranger could be a criminal for all we knew. To let him drive us into the hills of Spanish no man’s land and to not even consult with me about it was inexcusable. I would NEVER agree to this. What if he planned to take our credit cards and passports and then leave us miles from civilization. He could be a serial killer. He could be planning to sell me into white slavery. We didn’t know anything about this guy! City Girl was irate. I was a little frightened.
So I decided to feign sleep while I worked out what could possibly be going on. And soon enough we seemed to have reached our destination. The cab pulled up to a small group of buildings and parked in what could only be described as a rural ally.
I sat up an started to ask Chris, “exactly what the hell is going on?” But I never had a chance. Within seconds, my companions were out of the car and too busy talking and laughing to give me any explanation. Chris barely glanced over his shoulder as he said something about coming in with them and that we would “only be a minute.” Whatever that meant.
City girl and I huffed as we picked up every bag in the cab and dragged them over to the big wooden gate through which the two men had disappeared. There was no way I was leaving all of my beautiful lace napkins and pillowcases in an unlocked cab with open windows.
I’m not sure what I was expecting to see when I followed them in, but I couldn’t make any sense of the scene that I encountered. I seemed to have entered a courtyard. To my right were rows of kennels and cages. Dogs barked and birds squawked at our intrusion, and flies buzzed around my head. The general effect was something like a barnyard pet store. Directly in front of me was a paddock with a huge brown horse – apparently, the source of all the flies. On the left was what looked to be the side wall of a house.
Our host had opened a door to the house and gestured for us to stay where we were, saying something that seemed to indicate that he’d be right back. Again, there wasn’t time to interrogate Chris about where we were, let alone why we were there. Before I could open my my mouth (which was already agape), the man was back, now holding a box.
He looked at me and asked Chris something in rapid fire Spanish. Chris looked in my direction, and then with a smile shook his head. He laughingly held up his hands and said something that involved the words “no” and “gracias.” I couldn’t imagine what he thought I didn’t want – but I was happy to finally hear Chris say “no.”
Then it suddenly came to me. It was so obvious what was going on, I couldn’t believe that I didn’t figure it out earlier. I gasped internally as I silently articulated to myself, “oh my god – he’s trying to sell us drugs.“
But before I could begin to puzzle out why Chris would have even agreed to this detour trip, I was being ushered back to the cab. In a cloud of unintelligible banter and every fly previously stationed on the horse’s butt, I followed.
Safely back in the car and surrounded by my shopping bags, my anxiety began to fade. City Girl was back and mapping out the tirade the Chris would hear as soon as we were alone. At this point, I was certain that we were in fact, on our way back to the hotel. And I let out the last vestige of the breath that I was holding when that sparking sea came back into view.
We finally arrived in Puerto Banus, and the minute the cab pulled away I rounded on a happily waving Chris. “What on earth were you thinking? WHY did you let him take us to that, that…whatever that place was? Did he try to sell us drugs?“
Chris just stared at me in utter bafflement and said, “What?“
Exasperated, I replied, “that weird farm-like place! What were we doing there? He came out with a box and asked you something. Then you said, ‘no.’ Was he asking you if we wanted to buy drugs?!“
Still dazed, Chris said. “He asked if you wanted a ride on his horse. And we stopped there because his radio had died and he needed to pick up another one. That’s what was in the box. I figured that you were sleeping and we weren’t in a big rush to get back, so it wasn’t a big deal. He didn’t charge us for the extra time or anything.“
Oh.
Well – that didn’t sound quite so bad, the way he explained it. I may have overreacted just a little bit. But I’m still a city girl at heart, and don’t assume that I’m safe with a stranger – no matter how nice they may seem.
I doubt we would encounter a situation like this again – and now that we have kids, Chris would be far more likely to take a conservative view of friendly strangers with cars. But either way, I like to think that he would remember my feelings on the subject, and at least give me a vote the next time we’re encountered with the unknown.
We were newlyweds – and with every year of marriage, you get to know each other better. I now know that Chris is a good judge of character, and would never have put us in a situation that seemed like it could be dangerous. And Chris now knows that I prefer to be be informed of what’s going on – AND to be asked for my opinion before it is assumed.
But Chris did get one thing right all those years ago… You couldn’t have paid me enough money to sit on that fly-covered horse. Especially if it meant that I’d have to abandon my shopping bags.
thanks for the trip down memory lane. very cute!!
and FWIW- we have a local down named Andalusia, as well as a Madrid. But you don’t want to know how they’re pronounced.
Clearly a girl with her priorities in place! Fun story!
Great story! I’ve never heard it before. I’m really impressed that Chris was able to negotiate all that in Spanish!
Great story! I’ve never heard it before. I’m really impressed that Chris was able to negotiate all that in Spanish!
Love you,
Mom
That was a funny story. The imagination runs wild! City Girl’s interpretation was much more exciting than the actual truth!! :-)
Much love from NJ,
Sue
xoxo
That is so funny Kate! Love the title, too.
We honeymooned in Portugal, and I really wanted to drive to see Gibraltar, mainly for the monkeys, but it was much too far. Maybe next time!
Oh my goodness! This is ONE heck of a story! And I have to tell you that I would have felt the exact same way! (Us city girls DO think alike!)
It totally cracked me up that thought to keep your lace napkins and pillowcases safe! Priorities, you know!
Something similar happened to me in the Dominican Republic, only I was by myself in the cab! The driver was taking these sketchy unpaved back roads to get to my hotel. The thought totally occurred to me that he could pull over, do terrible things to me and ditch me by the side of the road. It’s a horrible, horrible panicky feeling that you fight, then wonder if your instincts are there for a good reason.
And of course I’ve thought about blogging about that story too. :)
Glad you were okay… what a great trip!
Well I’m glad you didn’t get abducted, especially on your honeymoon.
I’m jealous you went to Spain on your honeymoon. I love Spain and am dying to go back and I will someday. Someday.
Oh my, I enjoyed going on this little adventure today. Glad it turned out the way it did. I would have been seething right beside you, and I’m not even a city girl.
Cool story! Love to hear about other people’s living on the edge…
Its a good thing that Chris spoke spanish or who knows? You might be someone’s chiquita mama right now!
That is quite a story! So glad that everything turned out okay.
Me and Bobbi went to Mexico a while back and had some scary cab rides.
Oh wow! What an incredible destination for your honeymoon!!
Great story! The city girl in me would have freaked out too.
Whoa! The Kate story-teller strikes again. I love it. Boring old Spain…
Great story Kate. I wouldn’t have left my bags either:)
Oh Kate! Give me a break! You fell asleep immediately after a long day of shopping and leaving me all alone at some pub to watch soccer all day. By myself! Poor girl.
FYI-for everybody else…. here are the details that Kate include. Juan Carlos (Cab dude) was so happy that I wasn’t English – they really don’t like the fact that England holds Gibralter and the English tourists make no effort to try the local language (picture what Parisians think of the Americans when they visit).
So we talked about soccer and his radio was sounding like it was in slow mo and fading rather quickly. So he asked me if I minded just popping off the highway to replace the radio and we could check out his family’s farm. He told me that it had been in his family for 400 years (you don’t see that in the US). Of course I wanted to check out his family’s HORSE FARM. Anyway long story short-crazy girl grabbed her bags when we got out of the car, because in case we had to make a mad dash for our lives, she absolutely had to run away with f’ing napkins and bedsheets that were hand made by little old Spanish ladies who worked for pennies an hour becuase the wages were better in “The UK”. And yes, I did think of selling her to the man for a couple good bottles of Spanish Tempanarillo and a German supermodel who loved to jump up and down topless at our pool.
I love a good story!! This so funny.
you sound like NYC girl. I would have thought the exact same thing.
My father in law lives in Puerto Banus, 6 months of the year. I’ve never been to Gibralter and always wanted to go.
You don’t want to watch that show “locked up abroad” I think its on the discovery channel. I watched one and vowed to my husband that I wasn’t going to watch any more if we were to ever to go abroad again.
I would totally have jumped to the same conclusion! Especially at the farm-thing.
At 25, my best friend and I went on a cruise for her bachelorette. I totally thought our cab driver in The Bahamas was looking to sell us as sex slaves.
Yes, Connie and I did have some scary cab rides in Mexico.
The thought of being kidnapped didn’t enter my mind, but Connie thought I was trying to sell her!
So funny. That has always been a fear of mine. Fortunately, I don’t ride in cabs very often.
Very entertaining story. I’m not nearly as suspicious of things as I should be. One of these days I bet it’s going to bite me in the butt, too. Oh well, until then ….
too funny! that never happened to me in spain, but I did once get ripped off and detoured around town in Oakland, California. LOL! And the cabbie spoke english.
What a funny story! I would have freaked!! :)
Thanks for visiting my blog and reading “Letters To My Children”. I hope you visit again soon!
spain? SPAIN??
And a good story on top of it? I’m a bit jealous right now. Waitress???
Oh that’s too funny. My husband is the same way with strangers… and he did that when we were in Mexico for our honeymoon — although thankfully it didn’t involve a detour anywhere :) Glad you made it safely back to the hotel… with your lace pillowcases :)
And if that bothered you, stay away from my ghost stories post ;)
I had one of those fear of being kidnapped scenarios when we were in Venice. A guy approached us and in broken English offered us a free ticket on one of the taxi boats to go over to Murano island. We said yes, but were warry the whole way. We just knew that he was taking us to Vinny and Guido who were going to beat us up and take what little money we had. Fortunately he was an honest cabby and dropped us off at the Murano dock. We were ignorant enough though be sucked into a glass blowing demonstration and then bought a chandelier. Oh well.
OH, and we WERE offered drugs in Vienna. We were walking through a park at dusk and all of the sudden, out of the bushes, a man wearing a trench coat jumped out and muttered to us, “hashish?” We didn’t really even know what he was saying until we passed him and had a chance to assess the situation!
Sigh, Europe, gotta love it :)
Glad it all turned out ok.
And you avoided the fly covered horse.
LOL! What a wonderful, colourful story!
That was a great story! And I just want to hug you for having your priorities straight….a girl must never abandon her shopping bags!
What a wonderful story and you told it beautifully! I really enjoyed hearing about your adventure.
Wow…that big rock is ominious-looking! And what an incredible adventure! Stopping by from SITS…have a great week!
Good thing he knows you so well and you didn’t end up on the horse. And, you rock for keeping your mouth shut until you were alone. I might have freaked out right there in front of the perfectly honest cab driver and my new husband!
It isn’t an irrational fear, being kidnapped by cab drivers, because it happens, I don’t know how often in Spain, but in South America, I was always fearful of that happening. Funny story!
You crack me up :)
And just for that reason- I just awarded you the Sisterhood Award on my site !