It was the first day of our first family holiday. We had arrived in the Algarve in Portugal with the new addition to our family along with some of my wife's friends. My Naija friend's don't travel - not sure if it is pali related but - "ehn Portugal? wetin I go go do there?" they ask. "Relax, swim, enjoy the beach and culture?" I volunteer. "Beach ko, beach ni. If I want culture I go go Naija" they respond.
So it was with that usual mix of excitement and trepidation of stepping into the unknown that we collected our hire cars and set off to find the villa we had rented.
After a series of wrong turns, misinformation (probably due to the language barrier) etc we finally arrived and thank God it actually looked and seemed to match what we had booked on the internet (you can never be sure). We unpacked excitedly, portioned out the rooms, lit the fire as it was a bit nippy what with all the marble floors etc and generally settled into our home for the next ten days. That's when it happened.
Iyawo had taken FB (first born, do try and keep up) to the kitchen to warm her milk. As there was no kettle she had to boil the water in a pot. She had FB on one shoulder and as she turned around to reach for the bottle , FB's foot swung through with this motion and kicked the boiling pot of water which proceeded to spill all over said foot. This is when the screaming and crying ensued (although Iyawo did try to placate me as best she could).
Anyways, here we were in a strange house, in a strange town, in a strange country. We did not have and could not find a first aid kit. There were no phones in the villa - fixed or mobile (in those days very rarely did they have phones) and we had no neighbours to ask for help as the closest villa was deserted.
So it was with some panic that we jumped into the car - by this time we are talking 11pm in the evening - to try and find a hospital\ clinic as the foot was badly blistered and the tears were still flowing - this time from the injured party herself.
Driving around in the dark - I now know the true meaning of the phrase - is not pleasant in the best of circumstances as the occupants of Ikoyi, VI, Suru-lere, Lagos ...er Nigeria will tell you. Driving around in the dark in a strange country is doubly taxing but off we went. We headed for the only area where we assumed the main town would be. See when we booked the villa we had booked under the assumption that we wanted something remote, away from prying eyes , quiet and secluded. Now we were paying for it.
Arriving at an area I had spotted was lit but it turned out it came from peoples homes. I could not however break the worldwide man code to stop and ask a complete stranger for directions despite the screaming and yelling - this time from Iyawo. I was determined to find the hospital on my own.
After a further expanse of pressure filled time we ended up in an even more remote area that was again pitch black. This is when we saw her. In the middle of what I can only describe as a forest with a tarred road chiseled in between stood a young lady - early twenties. Now this shocked me because despite my strapping frame (it was at that time I tell you) I would not have fancied standing out on this stretch of road. Olurun maje (God forbid). But there she was. As she was a woman and as Iyawo's fingers were now drawing blood from my arm I felt it necessary to stop and ask for directions. I was expecting to be met by a stream of Portuguese most of which I would not understand. Instead we were greed by a very nice English accent.
We explained our predicament and she immediately told us that there was only one pharmacy clinic in the area, It opened late, she knew where it was, knew the owner and would take us there if we would give her a lift. Needless to say, there was no debate. We arrived at the pharmacy, it was still open, we were attended to, all the screaming and crying stopped but when we turned around to express our thanks, she was gone. We asked the pharmacist if he knew who she was and he said no he had never seen her before.
It was only later when things has calmed down back at the house, FB was fast asleep, tea had been had, that we started to ponder this meeting. We were in a remote part of the Algarve, it was on a deserted stretch of motorway, she spoke our language, she knew exactly where to go to get what we needed, she disappeared into the night. Could she have been........ No. It's not possible. Or is it?
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13 comments:
Know what you mean about our people not travelling on hols, cause if the truth be told Gidi is not a holiday. It’s the same way some will only eat Eba despite spending 20 yrs here ;-)
As for you Portugal adventure, Get a SAT NAV, it is the best thing since sliced bread, we go off to most countries in the world, pick up a car at the airport turn it on and voila no need to ask directions, and not need to ask madam to read try reading the map (we all know women can’t read maps, DUCK). Slightly off topic, I have actually got sat nav working on my laptop in Nigeria, the only limiting factor is maps.
I hope FB is ok and finally no it wasn’t a Ghoooooooooossssssssssst it’s quite embarrassing how many people in Europe speak English, while outside London you would be stuffed if you didn't speak English.
Babatunde my brother. Not sure if they even had SAT NAV at that point or if they did it must have been outside budget. If you check out Jeremy's naijablog history you will find a post about a company that has done some maps for Naija. Not sure if they are ready, or free, to download. As for the mystery girl, as they would say in Nigeria, it is all in God's hands.
Angels abound. They are everywhere.
Iyawo must have said a silent prayer and it got answered.
Man utd rules.
Toks, this may sound bizarre but I do think that she was a helper or angel sent to help you all out.
Many years ago in Lagos (in the early '70's) my father was driving home late at night and apparently fell asleep at the wheel. His car went over a bridge and crash landed on a railway track. To tell you how bad the accident was, the car was a complete right-off and his blood-soaked clothes had to be torn off him. Apparently there was a report about the accident in the newspapers.
Anyway, to the total amazement of my mother and my father's friends and family, my father got out of the car, used a cloth to cover he licence plate, and proceeded to walk to the nearest hospital.
He maintains to this day, that shortly after the car had landed upside down on the railway track, a young woman stretched her hand out to him and pulled him out of the car! My father is in his early seventies now but he still has the scars of that accident on his legs.
Strange but true...
Yep, sounds like a friendly visitation. Did you notice any icy vapours steaming off of her? I can't help believing in ghosts, having been haunted a few times in my yoof..
I can assure you a lot of prayers were being said.
April - quite bizarrely my father also had an accident in the 70s where due to his driving style i.e fast - he somehow managed to somersault off the third mainland bridge into the water below. He was pulled out by fishermen and other well wishers and rushed to hospital. He was in the papers as well as they could not quite work out how manage. Are you sure we are not related?
Just last month he was regaling me with another one of his adventures. This time on Bar Beach. Apparently one of his friends had some problems.So this friend decided that he would go to Bar Beach to pray. My father, ever the loyal friend decided to accompany him although very cynically (i.e -why can't we pray at home jo? all the way to bar beach in the middle of the night, kilode, abi u want to join Cele? etc?). Anyway, at about 3am in the morning he was half praying, half hoping the prayers would end shortly when a figure (he reckons a mermaid) walked out of the sea towards him, holding out her hand. She then said to him to tell his friend that there was no need to worry and disappeared off into the darkness. He still gets chills and tells the story in that sort of I can't quite believe it happened tone.
p.s- Chelses rules. No diggity. No doubt.
PS I should add that the young woman apparently appeared from nowhere, and seemed to disappear as he got out of the wrecked car.
But you get the general gist of my story!
Lol! (re "are you sure we are not related"). Well, two of my sisters went to ADRAO in the early '70's (I recall you saying that you went to ADRAO at some point).
Seriously, though your father sounds very much like my father. He's got so many stories to tell about his experiences.
You reqlly sound full of yourself, you know, what do you mean some Nigerian don't travel because of pali issues or the other reason you gave. Maybe in your world so i don't blame you. Nigerians are getting around and trust me not only in lovely portugal. I'm sorry you just come off as too fake to, just my opinion, it's your blogg so you can say whatever.
DD. You are right. It is my blog and I can say whatever I like. Full of myself hhmmmm?? As opposed to you who just had to come on and ruin it for everybody else. Get a lfe. Or should I say get a job first. Moron.
Nice one Toks!
Mr.Toks, DD Digs you.
looooool if i want culture i go go naija! hilarious!
a ghost or an angel??? :O, how odd though, i would be freaked out as well!
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