Do you want to make another transaction after this one?

There is one cash machine in the village.

There is nothing between the cash machine and the Mediterranean Sea other than the beach – this is probably why the screen is covered in a thick layer of sand, it is impossible to see the instructions telling you whether it is working or not.

When you enter your card there is a strange gurgling sound, not unlike the waves behind you and very slowly, slower than any other machine in your experience, the card disappears and, if you wipe the screen again you discover a choice of languages.

I selected English but after reading the set of choices four times, failing to understand the usage of “purse”, I selected Catalan – even though I only know one word.

I excitedly miss-clicked the commands when I was given a choice of greater amounts than most people need in a lifetime and received a message that said, and I translate –“please wait”.

What! This is Spain! How long?

Nothing happened. The sea came in, the sea went out. Sand built up on the screen, on me.

Then, inexplicably in English, a message.

“Do you want to make another transaction after this one?”

I thought about the 140 euro that may or may not come out of the machine. Would it be enough for the rest of my life? There is the accommodation to pay for but I have a full tank of fuel in the car. I was hoping to get some chocolate though, before Christmas.

If I click “No” will it be interpreted to mean that I have no further need of my card? Will they inform my bank and close my, skinny, account?

If I click “yes” will I be lost in an inescapable nightmarish cycle of ‘if you want option 2 press 1 and if you want option 1 press 2”?

The sea came in, the sea went out.

Sand built up around me, on me, in me.