We Get Around

My friend Francie and I decided to go to Formentera, a small island just off Ibiza, for a relaxing weekend retreat. Formentera was one of the filming locations for my favorite Spanish movie, Lucía y el Sexo, and it’s been a dream of mine to see it. Also, I justify everything in April as being “for my birthday,” so this vacation from my semester-long vacation was absolutely reasonable.

Upon reaching our destination and seeing just how wonderfully secluded our little home was, we realized we would need some way of moving around the island.

It was settled. We would rent scooters.

We confidently went over to the rental shops in town ready to ride some Vespas. We quickly learned that no one wanted to rent any type of motorcycle to two 20 year old girls in sun-dressses who have never ridden one before.

We thought that was fair so we pushed for an ATV instead, figuring four wheels was safer than two. But again, they decided it would be too much horsepower for two little ladies. We then asked about a car. In Spain, you have to be 25 years old to rent a car, but we had convinced the guy that we had our licenses for a while now. Well, mine was lost when I lost my wallet but, Francie still had hers. We were set to rent a car, when the man informed us that all they had was vehicles with manual transmissions.

I had once learned how to drive a stick shift, thanks to a polish ex-boyfriend, of course. But that was three years ago, and I knew trying now would leave me stalled in the middle of an uphill street.

And that is how Francie and I ended up leaving the rental shop on two mountain bikes.

We spent the next two days biking around the island, happy with our transport. I am a big supporter of anything that does my body good and my thighs were sure getting a workout.

By Saturday morning our legs couldn’t pedal any further, so we swung by a rental shop in a different town and inquired about renting an automatic car. Turns out, they had one. Upon learning we were only 20, the renters hesitated, but after convincing them we had licenses for over three years now, they decided to make an exception for “two pretty girls.”

You see, when everyone is saying, “no,” you just have to keep trying until someone, somewhere finally says, “yes.”

And that is how we spent the next two days cruising around an island with the top down in a convertible Smartcar.

Two pretty girls and some wind-blown hair.

Two pretty girls and some wind-blown hair.

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