Bad luck day

After such a trouble free insertion into my new post, today was somewhat disturbing. While cooking lunch I dropped a spice jar which smashed to smithereens making it impossible to recover any of the pimenton it had contained. Then later, when I went out for a drive, I broke a wing mirror, which upset me. While waiting for the Archers, I stepped outside the front door to get some fresh air and take a short stroll up the street, and locked myself out. The self locking door was similar to the one back in the Fuengirola house, so I had already cultivated the habit of keeping house keys in my trouser pocket and carried it over to this place. 

On this occasion, however, I fooled myself, by picking up a set of internal door keys and putting them in my pocket, mistaking them for the genuine article, after having placed the essential ones in a jacket pocket without realising. I had no jacket, wallet or phone on me, so couldn't summon help. I had then to walk a mile to churchwarden Michael's abode, unsure I'd be able to recall its exact location in the dark, let alone remember the address.

After doubling my journey by walking up and down a series of streets which turned out to be less than familiar, I found the right street and house, and gave Michael and Pamela a surprise visit. Fortunately Michael had spare keys, and after an hour's chat, thawing out from my exposure to evening chill, he took me home and let me in. Not the kind of evening in front of the telly that I'd envisaged! But all's well that ended well. I didn't have to hunt for a Guardia Civil patrol car and throw myself on their mercy in broken Spanish after all.