Wednesday, February 24, 2010

INSIDE THE BLAZING HOTEL!

THE BLAZING HOTEL AND THE RESCUE!

The scene was like a movie set out of Hollywood, the hotel ablaze with colourful flames and thick black smoke protruding from the ground and first floor windows to the front of the building. Firemen kneeling equipped with hose's struggling to contain the ferocious l flames as they sprayed water towards the hotel. By standers holding their breath and mingling about disbelieving with what they were witnessing. Waiting for news of friends and loved ones who had been staying at the hotel. The police struggling to contain the ever growing crowd of locals, tourists, newspaper and TV reporters. A number of police and firemen fully equipped with gas masks and oxygen tanks making there way to the entrance of the hotel, the same entrance I was thrown out of only this morning.

As they entered the building they passed a number of injured people coming out looking distraught, crying, screaming covered in blood grasping for air. What a fright to be woken by an inferno. They were treated immediately by the many medics that had arrived within minutes of the alarm being raised.

Thankfully it was a clear night, no wind for the flames to encroach further afield and as I stumbled to the side of the building to get away from the crowd, I heard a faint cry for help, I turned to my left and looked up towards the direction of the cry, I saw a silhouette of a figure on the third floor of the hotel. It was a women, on her balcony, screaming for help as the black thick smoke surrounded her from behind her.

She was alone, no help, so I decided, still under the influence of champagne from the party, to act as her saviour. I climbed the 6ft brick wall surrounding that part of the hotel, fell to the ground on the other side and climbed up a drainpipe which was conveniently situated almost next to all the balconies on that side of the building. One hell of a fire exit I thought, sprung to mine. I managed to pull myself up so that I was level with the balcony which was on my left. I was about 2ft away and approximately 30ft above ground level, so with one almighty push I managed to swing ferociously and with one hand grabbed the bottom rail of the balcony and then followed with my other hand. I pulled myself up and over the rail and tried to calm the women who was hysterical as the flames were coming right behind her and now me.

As the flames were getting stronger and the smoke thicker, I wasted no time in telling her, never caught her name, to jump on my back and hold as tight as she could. Thankfully she was of a petite size. We jumped the balcony rail, I grabbed the drainpipe and we almost fell to the ground as we ascending down the drainpipe, which was now hanging by a thread to the hotel wall. But we were safe and unhurt. She was in tears, tears of joy and as she hugged me I escorted her to the medics so they could treat her.

I checked my back pockets and thankfully still had my passport with me, as this was the only piece of identity I had as my belongings were still in the hostel. No money no belongings. But having my passport on me at this time proved to be my downfall.

So with that act of heroism, feeling proud and brave, and with no where to go, I decided rather stupidly to enter the burning hotel and see who else I could save. So without thinking of the repercussions, I began my journey towards the blazing building and the scenes that followed will live with me forever.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

THE NIGHTMARE BEGINS AND HOW!!

After my swim and siesta which of course is normal in this country I felt quite refreshed and relaxed, if one could be in my current position, not knowing of course that my impending future will go from bad to worse, and decided to wander the streets of Marbella.

During my walk which did include window shopping, not for clothes but for food, I came across Rosa, the Spanish girl from the other night. What a coincidence as I was thinking of her that very moment. She saw me, she waved and started to cross the road towards my direction. She looked how I remembered her, looking very natural, no make up, her brown hair in a ponytail, dark skin, wearing black shorts and white tee shirt and very attractive. But I didn't want her to see me like this, looking a complete fucking mess with 7 days growth on my tan face, jeans and shirt badly needing a wash, for that matter I needed a wash. She kissed me on both cheeks and asked how I was, I lied and said fine, I think she saw through me, it wouldn't take a genius to see that I was on my knees.

During this polite and friendly conversation, but sometimes flirty, she invited me to a friends birthday party that night on the Marina. She informed me that there would be free drinks and food. Food, haven't eaten for couple of days and I was shaken just thinking of stuffing my face. She persuaded me to go even though I felt totally uncleaned and undressed and she knew this as she offered me a shower at her place to freshen up.

It was about 10pm when we started the 15 minute walk to the Marina from Rosa's one bedroom apartment, which she has been rented for the past 10 months. The music from the party was pumping out of huge speakers, which could be heard from a fair distance away. The place was buzzing, full of people of all Nationalities, drinking champagne, with a glass handed to you as you entered. I was introduced to the birthday girl, Claire, well woman at 26 years old, 5.6ft, slim and blond hair, an ex pat been living here for 2 years and thinking how great she looked. The food which was a buffet, plentiful and delicious was worth waiting 3 days for with ample champagne to wash it down and so, I was pleased I bumped into Rose, a few hours earlier. Its funny how a day and evening unfolds!

After the usual party conversation to complete strangers during the course of the evening and early morning and enjoying the body to body contact dancing which Rosa, the evening turned a little sour as Rosa's friend Mike or shall I say stalker turned up and rather pissed. It must have been at least 4am when after being stared and verbally abused in an aggressive way from Mike, who just could not accept that we were together that night and that Rosa was not interested in him at all, I decided to make my way home, well maybe I could have that sofa again from the hotel the previous night. I said my goodbye's and kissed Rosa on both cheeks and started to make my way to the hotel where I was best mates with the security guard.

With the music disappearing as I wandered, well staggered to the hotel, as I said the drinks were flowing, I eventually came to the hotel, which was not difficult to see as it was being ripped apart by raging flames. Sirens, flashing lights with police, fireman everywhere trying to contained the crowd, trying to control the situation and dealing with the knowledge that people are inside this burning building.

I was thinking that if this happen 24 hours ago, I could have been dead or injured, so I drunkenly saluted the security guard who throw me out this morning. Stupidly, I wanted to see more of the scene, so I finished my champagne and stumbled towards the blazing building. One hell of a fucking big mistake.

A RUDE AWAKENING!

It must have been around 7am when I was woken by being pushed and poked on the sofa and being spoken to in a rather loud and incomprehensible language, I was not fluent in Spanish, apart from the odd word, but I did gather exactly what was being said by his attitude towards me as he grab me and with his arm around my neck, dragged me towards the exit of the hotel. He didn't ask any questions, why I was here, what I was doing, sleeping of course and I guess he was not offering me a full English breakfast. In one motion, he opened the double glass panelled doors and threw me out of the building and fell awkwardly to the hard ground outside. I assume he was the security guard, as he was about 6.5ft, of a heavy build, a shaved head and had one of those handlebars moustache's. He towered over my 5.11ft medium frame, which was shrinking on a daily basis due to lack of food.

Helping myself slowly off the pavement, with cuts and bruises, I walked towards the beach as the sand proved to be the most comfortable surface to rest on apart from the sofa in the hotel, but that was differently out of bounds. The sun was raising and the warmth of the glows started to heat my face and body, so as the beach was clear of any tourist, yes even the Germans were not here, I stripped naked and dived into the inviting sea to awake me from the rather gentle early morning call I just received.

Once out of the sea, I fell to the covering of sand, closed my eyes as the heat dried my body and thought about the circumstances I was in and could be facing. No home, no money, no food, my belongings out of reach, no return ticket to the UK but thankfully still had my passport. I could have telephoned my parents back in England to send money but I didn't want them to worry. But in the next 24 to 48 hours they would be worrying and also be very ashamed.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

GETTING HIGH WITH THE SON OF ELVIS

After the past couple of weeks or so and as I wasn't working, my money situation became a serious problem, so much so that I couldn't afford to pay for my room, so I made an arrangement with the owner of the hostel. I vacated the room but as I owed him money, he would keep hold of my personal belongings, apart from my passport, until I could afford to pay for the back rent and return them to me.  

What a situation to be in, no money, homeless, no change of clothing and not a return ticket back to the UK. A situation I didn't anticipate when I left the UK two or three weeks ago.

On night whilst I was walking aimlessly around the town and then the beach and with time drifting past, I came across this guy who had made part of the beach his home. It must have been about 2 in the morning, a still clear night with the glowing stars and the full moon reflecting on the sea ahead of me. The guy, 6ft, blond long matted hair and very unshaven had been sleeping rough for about 6 months and he looked and smelt like he had been. We started to talk, and as it turned out he was from L.A, I could tell from the accent and he actually believed that he was the son of Elvis. Most of our conversation was how, in his own words, his upbringing being the son of the king of rock and roll. His childhood, his relationship with is father, only being known as the son of Elvis. He in fact introduced himself as the son of Elvis. Didn't catch his real name. During this most unlikely encounter and who he thought he was, he begun to roll joints and after  sharing a few spliffs, by the time the sun came beyond the blue glistening sea, I believed that I was the son of Elvis. He did make me a ham sandwich for breakfast, which turned out to be a blessing as I now had a very severe case of the munchies. We chatted further about our wishes and believes and I left him rolling another joint and singing to himself, yes you guessed it, an Elvis song. I had to clear my head so I dived into the sea, dried myself off by the sun, to wonder what my next move will be.

After spending the day mainly walking around the town and sitting by the beach, all I wanted was to get some sleep. At about 10pm, I came across this Hotel, called the Skol hotel, another 4 star and wishing that it was my first day here in Marbella and going back to my 4 star hotel room. Which at 40 pesetas per night was differently out of my price bracket, I couldn't even afford the hostel at 10 pesetas per night. I walked into the hotel lobby and to my surprise found it empty, no one at all. I walked further into the lobby area and noticed this inviting black leather sofa in the reception area, I looked to my left then my right to make sure there was no one around and just lowered my body in a fetus position and within minutes I was in a very deep sleep.


FIRST FEW DAYS AND NIGHTS

My first night was eventful and of course I woke up with a hangover, but I had an agenda that day, and that was to find a room, a very cheap room. Wandering around in the sun, which was a pleasure considering the weather I left in London, but not great when your walking around with a heavy suitcase and looking for a hostel. But it didn't take me long to find a three story Georgian style building set within a delightful square and surrounded by orange trees. Also only a ten minute walk from the main strip in Marbella. The guy who owned the hostel, showed me the room and as it was only ten pestos per night I decided to take the room. The room with a single bed was small but adequate as it was only going to be a base to crash every night.

For the first two weeks or so in Marbella and Puerto Banus, apparently the town for the rich and famous, that's the reason why I came here, was one big party, every night, meeting people, women, drinking and drugs. The champagne flowed, even if you didn't buy any, I couldn't afford to and it was pushed into your hand, by people you knew and didn't know. It was just like the drugs, I didn't take that many, but it was everywhere. The high for two weeks. Spending all day on the beach getting a tan, go back to my room, crash till ten in the evening and go out and party until the sunrise. The people I mixed with were from a completely different background, they were criminal's here on the run, hence if you ask questions they would knock you back, verbally or with a smack, no matter what. The funny thing was they were on the run from the UK to here, and shortly I would be on the run from here back to the UK. 

One particular night out I went to this bar by the Marina and after a few drinks at the bar on my own, I started to talk to this couple. His name was Mike, a guy in his mid thirties from Leeds, he has been in Marbella for two years and she was Spanish, Rosa from Madrid. I thought they were an item, but apparently they were just friends. Well he liked her but she didn't like him in that way and and as the night wore on, she started to flirt with  me which at first was rather awkward. But as the night went on and as the drinks flowed, in the end I didn't care and went back to her apartment for a night of sex which continued into the following day. That was the last time I saw her and him together until a few days later.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

A TRUE STORY

This is a true story about the consequences of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, which ended in fleeing Spain whilst on a days bail for arson, of which the accusations were a damn big lie.

It all started after I lost my driving licence in the mid 80's for being slightly over the limit and as I needed my licence and car for my job, I subsequently lost my job. So I decided to take time out, collect and gather my thoughts and take a trip to Spain, where I would spend the summer. This trip was to clear my head, to find myself, but all I did find was nothing but trouble and so this is the beginning of a nightmare trip which became a headline maker for all the wrong reasons.

So saying goodbye to my parents at the airport, and with my suitcase, passport ( close to my heart as you will find out later ) one way plane ticket and a few hundred peseta in my possession, I was set for a summer break. Having landing in Malaga, I took a taxi to Marbella, I still do not know why I ended up there, I did no it was called Costa de Crime but I was a criminal on the run. I just wanted a break in the sun and I did hear a lot about Puerto Banus, a glamours place not far from Marbella and just fancied a visit, but I have never returned, have not touched foot in Spain since and quite frankly, I am sure I am missing nothing. As I was saying the taxi took me to the center of Marbella and I decided to stay in a decent hotel, 4 star in fact, for a couple of days until I found a very cheap hostel to stay in, as I was aware that my funds wouldn't last staying in an expensive place.

After collecting the key to my room, unpacking and acknowledging that the room was far too expensive for my budget, just the one day here I thought, I decided to have a shower, get dressed and venture out for the night.

So my first night in Marbella and what I did learn that night was to never ask any questions and to keep a low profile. I am not saying I am totally gullible, I am street wise but this was not my patch and I soon learnt that there were some pretty nasty characters hanging around. So there I was, a few drinks later, a low profile indeed, singing West End Girls on a karaoke night at this particular bar. The music was provided by a double act, two brothers, Kelvin, an ex army chap who told me aftewards about his time in Northern Ireland, he was the singer and Anthony who dealt with the music, changing CD's etc. It turned out, which I did know, that as I was not great behind the microphone, tone deaf to say the least but I did manage to do some work for brothers as a bit of a roadie and also getting them some gigs. This was great as I needed some extra cash and also I wanted to get my name around, of which within a couple of weeks, my name was know but for all the wrong reasons. The job lasted just a few days as my friendship with the brothers turned nasty and I was accused, yet again, of flirting with the girlfriend of the singer. I did state my case that this was not true, but did he listen, no, but he did manage to crack a great punch to my chin, but he was rather surprised that I didn't fall back or down. But without his help, I would be down and out, again the wrong place at the wrong time.