Chapter 29 - Letter to Santa

Dear Santa, 

I need your help. I am stranded in Spain and have no means of reaching my retirement pond in England.

I missed the sailing of the freighter that was my intended route to England and now my only chance is to get to the snow covered mountains of Sierra Nevada near Granada. They are the closest to where I am writing from that will have enough snow when I get there.

From there, I hope I can be picked up by one of your sleighs and dropped of over the English garden, as was the original plan over a year ago.

I will try to make my way to those mountains one way or other. I expect to be there late November, before you get busy. By then there should be enough snow for the sleigh to land and take off again. 

When I get there, I will light a string of red lights every night hoping you will come and rescue me.

In the hope that this letter reaches you in time, I remain,

Yours faithfully

Gammelnok (Southern Spain)

PS: I miss you all.

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Gammelnok asked the horseman to post the letter, addressed to Santa Claus c/o The North Pole Post Office. He hoped that Santa's 'Helper in Charge' would be astute enough to see this letter as a genuine plea to Santa himself and pass it on urgently.

Then he said goodbye and thank you to his companion, who had to return to the camp, ready for another delivery to Holland.

Totally alone now on the mainland road he watched as the horseman flicked the reins and guided his horse and waggon back south-east on the coastal road.

The only possible route open to Gammelnok, was north to Seville and then eastwards cross country to Granada.

It was late March, getting warmer and with Easter approaching, there was a fair amount of traditional caravan traffic on the road heading towards Seville for the April Fair, normally held two weeks after Easter. No harm arriving in good time to get a prime spot. Later, normally seven weeks after Easter, hundreds of caravans who had gathered at the 'shrine of the white dove', La Paloma Blanca in El Rocio would be heading back to where they came from. There is a good chance Gammelnok can hitch rides into Seville and then later eastwards to Granada on one of these caravans.

Gammelnok looks around. The land is flat here, close to the Doñana National Park. He has a long walk ahead of him to reach Seville before Easter. There is nothing for it, he has to get a move on. Shouldering his Haversack, he steps out into the middle of the road and starts walking.

The heat is building and he soon gets dehydrated from his efforts. Searching his Haversack, he finds water, bread and sausage provided by his dear mother. Dead so many years now, but she is still looking after him. Eternally grateful to her, he sits down by the road side and has his lunch.

Traffic is still sparse and he just has to keep on walking. Never having hitch-hiked before he does not make it known, that he would appreciate a lift. What traffic there is passes him by, maybe not even noticing him as he now keeps to whatever shade he can find on the side of the road.

Days go by like this, his short legs making slow inroad on the kilometres he has to cover to get to Seville. His spirit is flagging but his determination is not. It is a lonely life on the road, but the thought of reaching his goal never leaves him. He will make it!

Finally after many days walking in the hot Andalusian sun, a horse drawn cloth covered caravan stops. A beautiful young señorita pokes her head out and exclaims "Hola Hombrecito, do you want a lift?"

Gammelnok does not hesitate, stretches his arms in the air and is then grabbed and lifted aloft. Inside the canvas covering it is cool. A table and benches take up most of the space. On the table there is cold food and drinks; ham, sausage, cheese and red wine in jars. Festive music plays from a battery operated radio. Several people dressed in traditional colourful clothes sit chatting around the table. It reminds Gammelnok a lot of when he lived below deck on the old rusty freighter.

Grateful he had taken the time and made the effort to learn their language, he explains his predicament while sitting on several cushions in order to look over the table top. He shows them the carved head he was given in the Christmas Cave in Holland. It is recognized as a carving by a master craftsman and Gammelnok's esteem increases tenfold among his new found companions.

There is no doubt they will take him with them to the Seville suburb of Triana where they intend to spend Easter, enjoy the festivities and then relax with family and friends until the Seville Fair, after which they will return south to where they came from.

After a few more days, they arrive in Seville and soon cross the bridge to Triana. Everywhere the excitement is building for Easter. There are people and carts everywhere. In the total confusion, Gammelnok is lifted down from the caravan and within seconds he is lost in the crowd. His newfound friends look for him but it is hopeless.

Gammelnok fears for his life as people, horses and some oxen mill about, trampling all over the place. He dashes for a dark doorway, covers himself with his Chameleon Cloth and waits for darkness.