The Fly

Sunday 10th January 1988

We had a good, but slightly expensive breakfast near the plaza and walked back to the hotel. The locals were dressed in their finery for church and some of the more boisterous ones let off strings of very loud firecrackers in the street. The Indian poncho and blanket sellers were out squatting on the pavements as usual.

Back at the hotel I showered and did some laundry. Then it was relaxation time again! At 13:30 hrs. we went down to Doña Luisa’s to meet Paul and the girl from Berlin. It had a colonial feel to it, especially as all of the clientele were Westerners. We had chilli con carne and drinks to rehydrate after last night’s excesses.

Doña Luisa’s had a colonial feel, especially as all the clientele were Westerners. We had chili con carne and drinks to rehydrate after last night’s alcoholic excess. Then we went back to our hotel together, but before long we were in the La Bambu Bar opposite.

We polished off a couple of Victoria beers and then tried a bottle of local “champagne”. The bottle looked impressive, and it was fun getting the top off, but the contents turned out to be sickly sweet, almost flat cider. We moved on to El Parque to sit in the open air and listen to a local band playing outside the Government Buildings.

On the way we passed a fiesta where a blindfolded muchacha (girl) with a stick was trying to locate and break open a huge crepe paper bear full of presents (piñata) which was being moved about on a suspension rope by men on the roof. Children waited anxiously to pounce on the presents and sweets when she succeeded.

At last, we ended up in Mio Cid’s for a quiet drink until 19:00 hrs. when Paul had to go back to the family’s house where he was staying for dinner. We went off for Chow Mein soup and a hamburger before returning to the hotel to read our books for a while, as we didn’t want to start drinking too early.

We returned to Mio Cid’s at 21:00 hrs. and the time passed quickly until midnight. We talked with an amusing American/Italian called Pablo, who we nicknamed “The Fly” as he looked like Jeff Goldblum in the 1986 film of the same name. He was with his chum Bern who had driven down here from Phoenix in Arizona.

Paul the Belgian was also good company and his girlfriend, once again, broke her vow to only have two drinks!

At 00:30 hrs. Mio Cid’s closed, and we combed the streets in search of another bar which was open. All the bars and discos were now shut, and we ended up in “Los Pollos” 24-hour fast-food restaurant. This was the local equivalent of Kentucky Fried Chicken, but it also served beer.

We tanked into the litre bottles of Cabro cerveza and were joined by a Norwegian journalist. The party finally broke up at about 04:00 hrs., but Declan, the Norwegian and I decided to stay on deeming it too early/late to go back to the hotel.

When the Norwegian fellow decided that he had had enough he paid the tab and left us to have one more beer and play records on the juke box. When we decided to go at 04:45 hrs. on Monday we were subjected to the usual rip-off with the staff claiming that we had had two beers when we had only had one.

I gave them the money for one and we left. The staff decided to pursue us, and we took to our heels (had it away on our toes) despite being lost and not knowing where we were. We stumbled across a familiar arch and had a slanging match with our two pursuers, with them chucking stones at us.

I put the dampers on Declan’s enthusiasm for engaging with them in a fight (“Let’s kill them”, he cried) and we continued on our way to our hotel. Just as we reached the door a police jeep pulled up with the cook and a youth from “Los Pollos” on board. A heated debate took place with me repeating “hemos pagado”, “we have paid”.

It ended up in us being taken back to “Los Pollos” by the three policemen in the jeep, the driver hunched over the steering wheel peering intently at the road. We were at a disadvantage as we couldn’t speak much Spanish and eventually, I conceded and paid for two beers.

We then walked back to the hotel where the landlady was waiting for us. She had opened the door earlier and witnessed our encounter with the police and the irate cook from “Los Pollos”. Pissed and pissed-off we went to bed.