Living on the Mediterranean is a breathtaking experience, but its beauty fades slightly when looking at it through beads of sweat. More than just the humidity, it’s the intensity of the sun that makes the afternoons unbearable at times. So even though palm trees line the streets and the water is a clear blue, I am concentrating more often on desperately looking for shade than really admiring my surroundings. Just walking around Torrevieja requires a survival kit before going out (don’t forget to apply sunblock, bring the water bottle to keep hydrated, wear hair up in a ponytail at all times).
It doesn’t help either that air conditioning is a rare commodity due to the high cost of electricity. You’d think that you could escape the heat by going to a restaurant, but the inside is no better than the outside. Even the small side room with the ATM machine isn’t air conditioned, leaving you racing to withdraw the cash to get out of the closed in space that feels more like a sauna than anything else.
Surviving the heat wouldn’t be so bad except that public transportation is also a rare commodity with buses only coming every hour or so and no time table to know exactly when the next bus will pass. This is definitely preferable to a city with no public transportation, but, once again, coming from New York City has conditioned me to expect certain luxuries.
Also, taking the bus was adding up. We had gone to Alicante a couple of times already and each time were paying nearly $30. Restricted by the bus schedule made me feel overall trapped, as just going anywhere became a heated outing.
Needless to say, it wasn’t long before we started dreaming about buying a scooter. They are everywhere and when you’re on foot and one is racing by, it’s pure torture. Trying to not spend money unnecessarily, I tried to remain strong. We didn’t need one, we could get used to the buses, Torrevieja’s small enough to get pretty much everywhere by foot.
But under the unrelenting heat, my guard started to melt. OK, well maybe we could but we’d need to buy a used one. So our search began… we visited scooter shops and asked about second hand ones. One shop directed us to a beaten up one outside. The body needed major work but supposedly the motor was great. It was owned by a girl named Donna who works at Burger King and who had traded it in for a new one. We called and left a message but got no response. (Ironically, we went to Burger King the next and ended up placing our order with a girl named Donna. David asked if by any chance she was selling a scooter. She said yes and told us that it worked perfectly but was overall pretty apathetic. She didn’t seem too anxious to sell it and we decided that we really weren’t too anxious to buy it.)