Algeciras

Kelly and I travelled through Europe in 1978 by train.  We decided we wanted to visit Morocco, so we ended up in the Spanish port town of Algeciras.

We checked into a hotel and went out on the town for a few beers.  For some bizarre reason the Spanish pubs always served beer in little 80 or 90 ml glasses. Kelly and I wanted a decent sized beer, so we found this little place that was playing English music (the owner was playing a tape of some UK radio station) and we boldly asked for, "Dos cervezas grandes, por favor".

The bartender reached under the bar and found two very large mugs.  They looked like chamber pots.  We were the toast of the bar.  Everyone wanted to chat to the two crazy Anglos drinking giant beers.  And because we wanted to show everyone that we didn't think these beers were that big, we ordered a second round!

We met some mail order brides and their dodgy chaperone, and our best mate in the entire world ... or so it seemed after we'd downed two chamber pots of beer each.

Our new best mate wanted to know why were in town.  We told him we were planning to take the ferry to Tangiers in the morning.  "Why wait?", asked out new buddy, "We can go tonight!".

Looking back on this now, after almost 38 years have passed.  I realise this was code for, "Why don't you let me take you down to a secluded area in the docks so I can rob you two drunken idiots?"

Well we went with Pedro, or whatever his name was and headed down to the marina, then he vanished!  Which was coincidental, as just then two Spanish Civil Guards started yelling at us and waving their machine guns around.  They didn't speak good English, but it was pretty clear they wanted to know what the hell we were  doing stumbling around the docks in the middle of the night.

We told them that a guy was going to take us to Morocco.  They were not impressed and suggested the ferry in the morning was a better bet and that we should leave the marina immediately or we would be arrested. 

I don't know if this happens to you, but sometimes when I've had a few too many beers I kinda slur my words slightly.  Kelly was keenly aware of this, and had a brilliant strategy.  He pretended he was an English lord with an incredibly posh accent.  So Kelly puts on his Prince Charles accent and says to the policeman / soldier, "My good man.  There is no need to be rude.  Would you kindly direct us to the Hotel Europa."

I still remember the guard looking at us like we were insane, and then motioning ever so slightly with the tip of his machine gun to the building across the street.  Yep, we were only about 60 metres away.

And that was the end of our night in Algeciras.  We were a little worse for wear the following morning, but we didn't get robbed and we made the ferry.