Today’s adventure has origins from a night boat trip in 1992. Advertised at the quayside, for a small sum you would step on board early evening and motor out for an hour or so to a remote island beach. On arrival a crate of flippers and snorkels were produced whilst a barbecue dinner was cooked on an open fire. Red wine flowed freely from the moment of stepping on board and the return trip in darkness under the stars was idyllic. I liked it so much I did it three or four times in the fortnight that I was there and on at least one trip they hired a musician with a guitar to entertain us while we ate.
He was talented. He sang many popular songs, but the one I remembered most was Hotel California, which I had not heard before. Those who know it might appreciate the wildness of the lyrics, in fact it would be good to play the whole track whilst reading this article. When I got back home to the UK I went to the music store and bought the cassette tape of the Eagles greatest hits. Imagine my surprise when the real version didn’t have all the verses I had heard around the campfire – the ones about aliens, spaceships and visiting other worlds. I still like the song, but it is a poor cousin of the one sang that night by the fireside.
And so to yesterday. Circumstances too mundane for the length of this article led me to be in the right place at the right time to assist someone lying in the road a little worse for wear. It was after dark and initially unclear whether I’d found a survivor of a traffic collision, mugging or unexpected medical incident. It turned out that there had been a fall from a previous injury. The ingrained smell of habitual alcohol perhaps told its own tale of how it came about. With some effort and occasional coherence, I helped the unfortunate one back to their feet and was able to contact someone who soon turned up on foot to help guide us back to a nearby residence. It turned out to be in the grounds of a salubrious complex.
All was not what it seemed. A secure perimeter (not surprising given the area) and key card entry locks made me think it was a clinic or hospital. But it was not. I was needed to help maintain upright support and locomotion. Once inside we passed through many more locked doors until we reached a lift. Our friend, now in much better spirits for being home, was in no condition to take stairs. A few floors up, turns and locks finally opened onto an oddly shaped corridor of many doors and I suddenly found that famous guitar solo playing in my head.
Once back in their room, grateful thanks of a safe return were heartfelt. Job done. Now late for an appointment, I was in no mood to socialise. With a nod, I was keen to get back on the road. Luckily for all concerned, I found the passage back to the place I was before and the night man didn’t go on about received programming or the details of checking out. There might have been repairs needed to door frames and locks had there been.
See you down the road
