It was a harrowing five minute ordeal, getting locked in a bathroom stall, but let's start at the beginning of this little adventure, shall we?
Our boat docked at the Isle of Ischia for a day last June. Four of us, including my teenage son (who is the hero of this story) left the boat for a private tour of the island.
One of our stops was the outside of Castello Aragonese d'Ischia. It was a brief stop that included a little window shopping in the village. We took some photos of Castello Aragonese from Ponte Aragonese which is the foot bridge crossing the sea to the castle. People were swimming in the sea, sunbathing on rocks, and languidly enjoying the day. It was lovely.
We stopped at some vistas along the narrow, winding roads which were lined with flowering trees until we found our way to Giardini la Mortella, which, in my opinion is nothing short of the Garden of Eden.
I live in a subtropical area of the Southern U.S., just west of the Florida Panhandle. I am accustomed to lush greenery and amazing flowers year round. But the plant life growing on Ischia was more lush and beautiful than anything I have ever seen in my life. Many of the photos I took were stunning on the first snap and required no filter or editing.
I'm not sure if the above photo is officially a green man, but I'm dubbing him green man of the greenhouse. I wonder if wishes can be granted here? Perhaps you're wishing that I would go ahead and get on with the part of the story where I get locked in a toilette.
The ordeal began at the end of a walk through the gardens. We were headed back to the van when I saw a sign for a toilette and told my family that I was heading in. I used the restroom, and when I went to open the stall door, it was stuck.
Here's what I keep asking myself. Was the door ever actually stuck or am I just your stereotypical, run-of-the-mill American tourist? I mean, how hard can it be to open a deadbolt from the inside? I tried and tried to open the door, but it just wouldn't budge.
It was hot and stifling in the toilette. These were European bathroom stalls where you can't just crawl under the door. You're completely walled in, which is a detail that intensified my rising panic, I'm sure.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, everyone else had gone back to the van, but thankfully, my son hung back to wait for me. He can be a grouchy stick in the mud teenager sometimes, but he's situationally aware. He is also very much aware that I am a walking ADHD hot mess who can get distracted and wander away like a toddler. I am one thousand percent positive this is why he decided to wait for me.
Minutes passed and my feeble attempts at jiggling the lock elevated into me banging on the door with growing intensity until I heard myself yelling, "Help!"
Mind you, my son is over six feet tall and lifts weights for funzies. The moment the word help left my lips, he came bounding into the restroom.
"Mom, are you okay?!"
"No, I'm trapped! I can't open the door!"
He pulled the handle from the outside as I pushed from the inside. We both pounded on the door until it finally gave way and swung open.
I was rattled as my son guided me back to the van. I was imagining that if he hadn't been there, I would have been trapped in that stall forever and ever and ever.
A more terrifying thought would be having to explain to an Italian police officer that my son was in the ladies room trying to break into a stall as a hero and not a villain. But nothing bad happened, we all survived, and no one else in my family recalls this incident but me.
I must say, it is a comfort to know that a person exists in this world who loves me unconditionally and is ready to jump into action at any time to protect or save me, often from myself. I would do the same for him.
Like I said at the beginning of this story, it was a five minute ordeal, but five minutes can seem like an eternity when you're in panic mode. By the time I got back to the boat, I had completely forgotten about the matter. I only just recalled this memory a few days ago and thought it would be a good one to share.
The title of this post is hyperbolic because I have no actual advice for you on how not to get locked in a bathroom stall. My advice to you is always bring a buddy (unless you're at a Speakeasy in Rome, then don't bring a buddy to the toilette. A tale for another day!)
I hope you enjoyed my story and the photos. The photos do no real justice to the beauty of Ischia. You must see the island for yourself. Put it at the top of your summer itinerary. Just don't get locked in a toilette!
Safe travels, my friend.
Carpe Diem,
Melissa Anne
Copyright and Purchasing Info
All of the photos in this post are copyrighted to me, Melissa Anne and Melissa Anne Studio (my art and photography shop) If you are interested in purchasing a photo or certain rights to a photo, please click here. Thanks!
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