The word apuro is Spanish for “trouble” or “problem,” and it is often used when the difficulty is of one’s own making: a predicament, nothing terribly serious. You tell a lie and suddenly find yourself caught in a contradiction, which requires another lie to cover it up, but rather than solve the problem, the second lie requires more invention and devolves into further contradictions. Soon you are in a tangle. As with a snare, everything gets worse when you try to pull free and the encircling strands tighten. Extricating yourself one loop at a time from the consequences of an initial misunderstanding or untruth is often the action of a sitcom episode. The fun comes from seeing how much more stumbling is required. No one seems the worse for the experience. But in real life? A happy outcome is not guaranteed. In real life, we might not become entangled bit by bit. We might fall into some disaster as if into a pit, with little chance of climbing out.
In early June, I spent a night in the fishing village of Puerto de Vega, not far from my home in northern Spain. With me were my grown son, my brother and sister-in-law, and two friends, all of us staying at the Hotel Pleamar—the High Tide Hotel. Before going bed, we four family members agreed to walk down to Frejulfe Beach the next
