Spain 86

 July '86

We had arrived at our vacation apartment in Spain early July.  It was the 2nd year we were in this town at the Costa del Azahar.  In a weird coincidence, last year we had run into old acquaintances from my mom back from her study time in town here, and now we had come back and rented an apartment in a different complex via friends of those friends. 

My sister took off to the pool right away with the acquaintances' daughter of her age, but I kept a bit on my own still, exploring, reading my books etc.   

By noon, my sister was full of stories of the other families they had spotted at the pool that appeared to be Belgians as well.  There were teenage boys in that group so that was interesting enough and the first attempts of contact had learned that "they had just returned from a few weeks in Mexico". 

That afternoon, both girls returned to the apartment to search the Knack magazines my parents had brought along to read this vacation...they had to borrow the pages reporting on the previous weeks of the World Cup in Mexico and the successful round of our Red Devil's national team.   They read the articles and moved the group pictures a bit up and a bit lower to spy on the group's oldest boy and his girlfriend. It was hilarious but intriguing.  Could it be? Was there resemblance?  No seriously, it wouldn't, it must be coincidence. But they did come back from Mexico, right?  The oldest does look like Stéphane Demol no? 

My sister's friend was assertive enough to just approach the other families, lay contact, ask their names and their whereabouts in Mexico and by evening we knew we were spending a vacation together with the entire Demol family and their best friends.  And there was a girl my age in the group too, so I found a buddy for the rest of the vacation and a pen pal for the next decade.  We hang out at the pool and beach or playground from morning to evening, and the gang of teenagers did the same.  In '87 and '88 the scenario repeated, now without the spying of magazines first :). 

And since that summer I had picked up interest in international soccer tournaments and the results of our Red Devils.  For years also, I have proclaimed the exaggerated truth that I learned to swim by a Red Devil.  The truth is that Stéphane Demol has never given me consciously any swimming lesson, but in 86 I was afraid to swim and only dared to peddle a bit along the edge or in the undeep.  But in this group of families, we often ended up in a big pool hassle with kids pushing each other in, water bombing jumps, throwing each other into the deep or collapsing the little floatable boat while we were floating quietly.  Stéphane was unaware of my fears. Although he usually kept himself a bit separately with his fiancée,  sometimes he did mingle in and surprise attack me and my friend. Hence I found myself thrown into the deep multiple times by surprise and I learned to conquer my fear this way.  So he did teach me to trust my swimming skills and have fun in a pool, although he's never been aware that he did so. 

June 2023

My alarm clock jumps up with the 7 o'clock news and half asleep I grab my phone and scroll through the news app. At the same time, my eyes and ears register the news that Stéphane Demol passed away. 
I'm flashed back in time in my memories and while the news is full of Mexico 86 flashbacks, I am in Spain 86 flashbacks.

Time to reach out to my pen pal friend with whom contact deteriorated since we left high school but who is a link on Facebook nevertheless, to give her my condolences.  And maybe we should invest in her suggestion and meet up again and let our children meet and have a toast to the best childhood vacation memories and to national soccer heroes.  Rest in peace Stéphane.