A day of ups and downs!

Yesterday I went to O(u)rense again. It seems as though every time I go there it’s something to do with chess and yesterday was no exception. My husband's chess team was playing there and I went along for the ride.

Last time I was there was in September and it was HOT. Yesterday we left Vigo in the sunshine, rather chilly sunshine but sunshine nonetheless. The further inland we went the cloudier it got and by the time we reached our destination it was raining! The sun came out again later but sunshine and showers was the pattern of the day. We even had a late afternoon rainbow!

Earlier in the afternoon we had arrived at Vigo bus station to find one of our party spluttering with indignation. He had been given money to cover bus fares and taxi fares and had already used more than half of it on the outward journey! What about the return journey?! What about taxis?! What about refreshments?!

Then the bus decided to have a little bit of a break-down, leading to a 10 minute delay before continuing its journey through one of the tunnels on the way to O(u)rense. No explanations, just a long wait! We were already running on a tight schedule and this meant we had no time to spare. So when we arrived I urged the team to go ahead by taxi while I investigated tickets for the return journey. We wanted to buy tickets in advance as it was highly likely we would be on the last minute going home as well. For some reason at Vigo bus station they would only sell single tickets. At O(u)rense they would not sell me anything at all. You have to pay on the bus. Well, I did my best and in the end it turned out to be just as well in view of later events.

So I decided to walk into town, the rain having stopped. I had done my homework and had things I wanted to see: bridges. The Miño goes through O(u)rense and is crossed by several bridges. First there is the mis-named Puente Romano, not really Roman at all but medieval, built on the foundations of the Roman bridge. Then there is the Puente Nuevo but I have no information about exactly when it was new.

There is a fairly modern viaduct and finally the Puente Milenio. This last is metallic and ultra-modern, full of sweeping curves and frighteningly steep sets of steps in the pedestrian sections, well worth visiting in my opinion.

I revisited the old part of town. Despite the intermittent rain an enthusiastic group was being given a guided tour, the tourist train was running and the top manta sales-people were putting out (and hurriedly taking in) their wares, spreading their pirate copies of CDs and DVDs and faux-Armani handbags on blankets in the Calle del Paseo.

I popped into the shops for a look around but in the end Zara, Mango, Sfera and the rest are pretty much the same from one town to another. Shopping gives you a real feeling of déjà vu these days.

Last year at this time I sat on the terrace of a cafe on the Plaza Mayor drinking coke. This year it was indoors with a warm drink. Then, as it was getting dark, I went along to the playing venue and read my book, wrote most of this blog post and waited for them to finish.

And I waited and I waited and I waited! The evening was taking a serious downturn. We had a bus to catch to 8.30.

At 8.15 three out of four games were still underway. I sent the fourth player off to the bus station to catch the bus and I waited some more.

Two more players finished but there was no way we were catching that bus. I phoned the bus station: no more buses after 8,30. I phoned the train station: last train 9.00 pm. I waited.

The last player finished – grumbling and cross with himself for losing – at 8.40. We sprinted – rather half-heartedly in the case of the cross with himself grumbler – for the taxi rank and went to the taxi at what seemed to be the head of the queue. No, not this one, the other end of the line! I beg your pardon! Since when do you get the last taxi in the line?

We ran back along a line of about eight taxis. This was turning into some kind of cinematic farce: “To the railway station, as fast as possible please, train at 9!”

Despite the red lights which set out to impede our progress, we got to the station with 2 minutes to spare ... only to find that we had been misinformed, misled! The train left at 8.55! The next one was at 5.40 in the morning!

Aaaaaagh! What to do? The youngest member of our party took matters into his own hands and phoned for assistance, explaining our situation to the big wheel at the chess club. Exasperated noises came from the phone but he agreed to come and pick us up. In the meantime we should go and get something to eat. So off we went in search of sustenance.

In the only place nearby EVERYTHING was pricey. So we went for the cheapest option: paella for all. It would take about 25 minutes to prepare, they told us. We ummed and aahed and finally agreed. We had about an hour before our lift was due to arrive. We could manage it. Mistake: we were once again misled and misinformed.

Some fifty minutes later our lift was about to arrive and our paella had not materialised! Not only that, but our driver was in a hurry. He had un compromiso and needed to set off at once, if not sooner!

One of our party insisted on staying to eat the paella – he was VERY hungry! The rest of us fled the scene. Goodness knows how the hungry man got home!

Just when it seemed that the day was going to finish calmly after all, our driver took a wrong turning in search of a service station for a quick coffee. At the cafe we were misled and misinformed for the third time that day. (My mother, a famous pessimist, always said that things went in threes!)

The waitress at the cafe directed us back onto the motorway ... via the scenic route. That road with its twists and turns is probably delightful on a find sunny day. In the middle of the night, well, late evening, it was just a pain! And a slow pain, at that!

Eventually, however, we got back to the motorway, sped back to Vigo and the day was over. The chess team drew, by the way.

Maybe it’s time I thought about having a car here!!