Holiday From Hell (Part Four)

I hope you are all still with me. I never realised this would turn into quite a few entries when I began. Some of you might be wondering whether I am exaggerating. Could this all have happened on one holiday? I assure you that it could and it did. It really, truly was the holiday from hell. Now, when I watch those t.v. holiday programmes about disasters I think to myself - call that a disaster - you should have been with me in 1962!

I have been so busy writing about all the horrors , getting them straight in my mind and in the right order, that I forgot to mention what was the highlight of the holiday. My meeting with a famous film star. I wish I still had the autograph but alas, it got lost in one of our several house moves. I am still sad that it is gone. I wish I could scan and post it for you.

It happened in the most ordinary and mundane way. For a couple of days, a beautiful yacht had been moored out to sea. Someone at the hotel mentioned that it belonged to a famous star who was filming down the coast. One of the guests looked at it through powerful binoculars and told us it was called “Wild Goose”. We thought nothing more about it really. One afternoon during the second week, GD and I went to the Pharmacy during siesta. It was the only place that remained open. One side of it was the pharmacy and the other side sold postcards, books about Spain and small souvenirs. I had run out of mascara, I think it was and GD wanted a stronger sunscreen. So down the dusty and deserted road we walked. It was quite nice to be the only ones about. Well, we had stood at the counter for a few minutes when we heard someone come in behind us. I took no notice but GD happened to look around. Suddenly she dug me hard in the ribs and whispered in my ear -" look who is standing behind you." I swung around and my face came level with a male chest. Looking up I found myself staring into the face of John Wayne. Yes, truly, John Wayne. I was speechless. He gave a big smile. The pharmacist, on seeing him, decided to ignore us trying to pay and deal with him instead but he told her to see to us first. I grabbed a book from the nearest shelf, anything would do, it was one on bullfighting (which I hate) but I hurriedly paid for it and then asked timidly "Mr. Wayne, could I have your autograph please?” He replied along the lines of “Well, certainly little lady". I could have fallen through the floor. Of course, as we had only gone to the Pharmacy neither of us had a camera with us. Oh, if only!  In the end we had a conversation with him that lasted around fifteen to twenty minutes. His companion (unknown) got a little impatient but John himself was a real gentleman. I have no idea what he was actually like in real life but to us he was decency itself. Polite, interested, kind. He asked if we were on holiday, where we actually came from, what our jobs were, about our families. We mentioned some of his films. It was like a dream, I had to be dreaming this, surely I would pinch myself and wake up? No, it was really John Wayne and it was really happening. He was a huge man, towering above us and the pen in his hand looked like a match-stick. I had always been a fan of his pictures and to meet him in person remains one of my most treasured memories. Word had got around, he had obviously been seen entering the premises and locals were gathering outside, especially children. They milled around him and he was delighted. "John Waynee, John Waynee" they cried, pulling at his jacket. My lasting memory of him is like a scene from a film in itself. We watched him walk off down the road, into the sun, with a little child on his shoulders, other children trying to hold his hand or hanging onto his clothes. A big man in every sense of the word.

Now, to continue with the story……………………………….........

The coach journey back to the airport was conducted in silence. Well, silence between me and the D family. They talked amongst themselves. I either read my book or chatted to other passengers.

We boarded our flight. I had to sit next to GD, she grunted occasionally. Never mind I contented myself that within four hours or thereabouts I would be back in my own home. Little did I know.

Those were the days when planes had propellers. We took off and for around forty-five minutes all went well. Then we hit a storm, more thunder, more lightning. With the turbulence the aircraft would plummet several hundred feet downwards every few minutes and our stomachs were literally in our mouths. As I have previously stated, I donot like storms. The plane seemed to pitch and heave like a boat on a rough sea. I had the window seat but was trying not to look out at the lightning . However, I did glance out, only to see that one of the propellers was not turning and some smoke was issuing out of the engine and every so often, a little belch of flame. I cannot tell you how I felt at that moment. I think we had been struck by lightning, I am not sure to this day. Anyway, other passengers noticed and word spread. The pitching and tossing seemed to get worse. The stewardess starting telling everyone to keep calm. The pilot announced that due to a “slight difficulty” we would be making an unscheduled touch-down at Orly Airport, near Paris. A slight difficulty? One engine dead and on fire! Not only that but another engine had started making strange noises.

A woman somewhere behind us jumped out of her seat and ran down the aisle informing us in a high pitched scream that we were all going to die. Pandemonium broke out. What could we do, hung in midair, thousands of feet below us. We were told, it was only a formality but we were to adopt the crash position and we all sat there waiting for the end. It was an experience I would never want to re-live.

Obviously we made it to Orly and were herded into the airport reception where hot drinks and food were laid on. Then we had to wait about seven hours before they could fly us on to Gatwick. Nobody at that moment wanted to get back on another plane but we had no alternative. That wait seemed endless but at least the fright made the D family actually speak to me again. Not that I cared by then. This was one doomed friendship. They got us all back onto a plane, the storms had passed and, thankfully, the remainder of the journey was smooth.

Was that the end of it?  No, there were yet more problems before I was safely back in my own home.

Next time...... a piece of string and home at last.