Orange Pickers

One day we decided to take a trip to Valencia a couple of hours up the coast. We rented a car to make this trip and a trip to Grenada later. There is a very nice coastal highway that follows the Mediterranean Sea from town to town. The road wanders in and out of coastal communities and up and down the mountains in this area. We elected to take this road instead of the more direct and faster divided highways so we could see some of the sites from the area.

It really proved to be a beautiful drive and the views of the coast were spectacular. It was a beautiful day and lots of people were out for drives with us. On a stop to fill the car I happened upon a gathering of beautiful sports cars including two Jag E-Types, three Porsches, a couple of MG's , and a lovely AC/Cobra.

Now driving to Valencia we also saw many, many oranges growing in orchards along the road. It would have been so tempting to stop and pick one of the lovely ripe fruit, but discussions of Orange Police and “I'm not bailing you out if you get caught steeling oranges!” kept us in the car. Watching these Orange Orchards did however produce another interesting sight.

As we were driving along, we observed a young woman standing along side the road, dressed in very “provocative” attire. A comment was made about “I wonder who she is waiting for dressed like that?”. Then there was another, this time sitting alongside an orange orchard, in a plastic lawn chair, also dressed rather fancy . . . Then another similarly decked out. One was reading a magazine while sitting in a chair, another had headphones in her ear listening to something.

The suggestion was made that since they seemed to be beside the orange orchards, then perhaps they were waiting to go to work picking oranges, but they did not seem to be dressed for this sort of work. Finally we passed one young woman wearing black stockings and black leather hot-pants standing with her hands on her hips watching traffic and we decided that, no she definitely did not seem to be working as an orange picker.

Then we passed a couple more standing waiting for customers while a police vehicle was passing out a ticket to a motorist, and we motored on with more questions than answers . . . . .

Was this legal in this particular area?

Where exactly did they perform their services? There were no houses close by;  just orange orchards?

Since no one really felt like stopping to ask them we continued on our way with no answers to our questions.