The legend of Renault Fuego

On one of the quieter nights, myself and Ian decided to just go and have a couple of beers while Kev and Barb stayed inside the hostel.  We had just got back from Fraser Island so were all pretty tired but one of the pubs in the town had a band playing and we were still into live music so decided it could be a nice way to chill out.

We sat down with a few beers, enjoying the music and I suddenly got tired, the hectic tour around the island and the sleeping outdoors must have taken its toll.

Pretty soon the bar had filled up and a couple of girls had sat at our table, that is the thing with Backpacking, it isn’t unusual to find people just joining you now and then, you normally end up talking to complete strangers and find yourself in groups of people you don’t know and are never likely to see again,

Pretty soon Ian was chatting away and having a laugh with the new arrivals, I was still just sat watching the band and not really feeling much like interacting and left him too it.  Ian came over to me and asked if I was OK, I just said I was ok but tired and he left me to it and carried on chatting away.  After a minute or so I noticed Ian looking over at me and saying something then they would look over and say something back.  I did wonder what was going on but wasn’t really too bothered by it.

When the girls decided to go to the bar Ian told me what he had been saying.

One of the girls had mentioned that I was quiet and rather than tell them I was tired he had decided to tell them that I didn’t speak English.  As I was quite tanned at the time it wasn’t too much of a stretch of the imagination for them to believe that I was Spanish.  His imagination had even managed to give me a name, I was hoping for a reference to “The Princess Bride” but instead of Inego Montoya I was christened Renault Fuego.