The Good Samaritan was walking down a deserted road when he heard the sound of someone toiling away.
He could hear the sounds of physical exertion, but couldn’t see anyone. Then he noticed a large hole at the side of the road. Inside it a Scandinavian man was shifting earth from one side of the hole to the other, building a mound to raise himself from the bottom so that he would be able to eventually scramble out.
The Good Samaritan reached out his hand and the Scandinavian grabbed it and climbed out of his hole. He thanked the Samaritan and, after they shared dinner, the Samaritan continued on his way.
After a few miles he came to another hole, this time there was a Lebanese man inside it. Once again the Samaritan offered his hand, which the Lebanese gladly took and he climbed out of his hole. He was so pleased that he invited the Samaritan to his home to meet his family before the Samaritan once again had to continue on his journey.
Another few miles and he came to yet another hole. This time there was a Spaniard inside it.
“Aaah,” exclaimed the Samaritan. “You seem to be stuck down a hole.”
“No,” the Spaniard shrugged. “I’m not stuck, I’m fine.”
“I have ladders here,” The Samaritan continued. “The might help you climb out of your hole.”
“I’ve never heard of ladders,” the Spaniard eyed the Samaritan with suspicion. “And if I’ve never heard of them how can they help me? And anyway what are you going to charge me to do this?”
“Nothing,” the Samaritan smiled. “It’s simply that I have ladders and they could help you.”
“Hmmm,” the Spaniard rubbed his chin. “I’ll think about it. Maybe if you come back next week I might let you.”
And with that the Spaniard knelt down, dug a hole and stuck his head in it.
The Samaritan shook his head and carried on, but within a short distance he came to yet another hole. On this occasion a Canario man smiled up at him.
“Hello, you seem to be stuck in your hole,” the Samaritan said.
“No, no,” the Canario replied. “It’s not my hole; this is my boss’s hole.”
“Well whoever’s hole it is, I can help you get out,” the Samaritan reached out a hand.
“Well, I’d like to take your hand,” The Canario continued to smile. “But, you’ll have to ask my boss first.”
“Okay, but where is your boss?”
“I don’t know,” the Canario shrugged. “But he may be here tomorrow at 10am…or maybe 11am…or maybe later. If you come back then you can ask him”
The Good Samaritan sighed sadly and left the Canario down his boss’s hole and continued on his way.
Shortly after that he retired from being a Good Samaritan.
This week I was arranging to take some photographs of restaurants to accompany already written recommendations for a UK based travel website which will be viewed by tens, if not hundreds of thousands of Brits planning to come to Tenerife for their holiday.
Some people might be able to sell snow to the Innuits – I cannot apparently give free publicity worth god knows how much to Canarios or the Spanish.
That’s some, not all may I add, but more than enough to make it more than a generalisation. A couple of years ago we experienced similar when writing the ‘In Deep’ location reports for Living Tenerife Magazine; a feature which recommended the best paces to eat, stay, visit etc in Tenerife’s resorts.
I remember one bar owner who flatly refused to be mentioned and on another occasion a hotel that didn’t want to be included. Both, I have to report, are now shut.
Anyone in the tourist business who cavalierly turns down any free publicity which comes their way, especially when it’s reaching way beyond the shores of this little island must be either very confident, or…well do I really need to say it.
Tenerife I love you, but you can be very strange sometimes.