TOO MUCH?
I know we were only in Spain for a week, but you can never have too many black t-shirts.
Train to Sóller
It wasn't easy getting my backpack onto the train, but once I started pulling out the snacks people started warming up to us.
Antique wooden train cars carry tourists through the picturesque mountainside of Mallorca to the town of Sóller located on the northeast coast of the island. The train arrives at the top of the village and a market stretches through the streets below. The market took our money in exchange for a few odds and sodds, afterwhich we caught a tram down the mountain to the beach.
Swimming in the bay seemed appealing at first. The water was warm and the beach was sandy so I waded in. Suddenly felt something bumping into my foot - "I think I just stepped on a crab" I screamed to Catherine "no, they are fish" she replied. I don't know if any of you have done the fish spa where you sink your feet into an aquarium and the fish eat your dead skin off... well I have a lot of dead skin and I was not prepared to be eaten alive.
I wish I had noticed the number of our train car when we were leaving Sóller, I might have thought twice about getting on. Car No. 13 was the last car with space on it, it also contined about 20 children aged 2-8. Once we realized that it was going to be a bad idea to stay in this car it was too late, the train had begun to move.
While taking the train through the mountainside was lovely on the way to Sóller, coming back we quickly realized how many tunnels there were along the way. As we entered the first tunnel a full chorus of high pitched squeals rang through the car. 20 little brats filling the air with that shrieking sound that instantly pierces the eardrum leaving a trickle of blood rolling down one's cheek. Tunnel after tunnel the little hellions let loose... their parents half heartedly shushing them. In an act of supreme sacrifice I gave my one pair of ear plugs to Catherine. More tunnels, more squealing... finally I had to get out. I went and stood outside between the cars (in Canada this would never be allowed). At last just the clack clack of the old train riding track. Not long after I found sanctuary there two men from my car joined me in the space between - I almost lost my mind when I noticed that they were the fathers of the squealers. "GET BACK IN THERE AND CONTROL YOUR KIDS!" - I yelled in my head. Fume on Miller, fume on.