The police are not to be trifled with

Day 37: Yesterday we arrived in El Campello, a small town on the coast not far from Alicante. We're standing in a small parking lot on a side street. A staircase that leads down to the rocks gives us access to a small beach that we have just for ourselves. It's not far into the city either, and so Icke vehemently advocates that it's best to stay here forever. I, on the other hand, have a sinking feeling in my stomach at this place...

That may be because there was a party here last night from 9 p.m. Two cars rolled up and with them a group of young women and men who were already very exuberant. They screamed and screamed at the top of their lungs, but it wasn't enough to drown out the music that was blaring from the speakers in their cars and covering everything around them like a carpet of nails. Everything's fine, we said to ourselves and turned up the volume on our headphones. Pipo and Emmi hid under Icke's blanket. We set ourselves a limit of midnight. If the music was still loud, we wanted to leave and find another place for the night.

Shortly after 11 p.m., Icke saw blue lights through a crack in her blinds. The police arrived. Four men in two patrol cars. From one second to the next it was as quiet as a mouse. Spanish police officers cannot be compared with those in Germany. They don't know how to joke. The motto here is to trace or feel. The eight young people had to line up, their personal details were taken and the cars were searched. A police officer found something that he rubbed on the ground with his feet. After half an hour the patrol cars left. The young people smoked a cigarette in response to the shock. There was no sound. Yes, it's better not to mess with the police here...

Speaking of investing! We had olives for breakfast today – what else. The good ones from the big bag. I discovered that there aren't that many olives after all, which is because half of the contents are garlic cloves. Ten olives a day are healthy - I already explained Icke's theory to you yesterday. And since the garlic cloves also have to go, the new calculation is: ten olives and ten garlic cloves per day, ideally for breakfast so that the mixture can develop its full effect.

The proof of how optimally this mixture unfolds was provided today during the shopping trip. Icke was browsing through blouses, dresses and pants in her favorite shop when one of the salespeople came and sprayed two sprays of a fragrance spray over Icke's head. I wasn't there, but when Icke came out of the boutique shaking her head, I knew that something must have gone differently than planned, because her smile usually shines over the mountain of shopping bags piled up in her arms. No smiles, no bags. She was really shocked. She couldn't believe what had just happened to her. But not like that! My Icke doesn't let her favorite boutique be ruined. Ten olives, ten cloves of garlic and then we'll go back to the shop tomorrow morning. And woe betide you if... I've already prepared a few stomach tablets. My sinking feeling has never deceived me.