Facing My Fear And Running For The Hills

I don’t like spiders.  In fact I so don’t like spiders that even the tiniest little wrigglers are swiftly evicted from my presence by my long suffering but dear husband (that’ll be Andy).

So, when I came face to face with a tarantula in my hallway a week or so ago I nearly collapsed with fear.

Of course I didn’t collapse - the adrenaline that was surging through my body and pumping me up with wild eyed screamingness caused me to almost launch myself off the balcony, such was my overwhelming terror!

And when I say ‘face to face’ I do actually mean face to face in the most literal and face to face way.  He/she/it (what do I care) was sitting quite happily at my head height as I came out of the sitting room and walked within centimetres of it.  Andy was close behind me but failed to notice it!

Surprising you might think, when it was at least a foot in diameter (well, almost) and sitting there growling and staring at us with its big fat hairy legs wrapped round my picture frame. 

So he was totally confused when I started screaming and dribbling and shaking and pointing over his shoulder.  When I finally managed to utter the word ‘tarantula’ his response was surprisingly cool.  He turned to face the offending beast and spoke only to confirm my fears ‘oh yes, we’ve got one.’ Though he did leap about 4 foot backwards at the same time and start sweating quite a lot.

It was at this point that I flung myself (gracefully of course) in the general direction of the balcony door at the back of the flat (the spider was near the front door, I couldn’t possibly exit that way).  The only trouble at this point was the fact that we live 2 storeys up and I didn’t want to break my legs.

Andy swiftly followed me, one eye on his wife who was hysterical and out of control and one eye on the beast that was descending the wall swiftly with fangs bared.  ‘Get me a ####ing bucket’ he cried…
(Andy that is - and he was addressing me, not the beast).  I couldn’t of course move...so he shook me and pointed out that he HAD to watch where the beast went and couldn’t keep shaking me as it might depart and then we’d never sleep for fear it was hiding under the bed.

So, I dispatched myself onto the other balcony to get a bucket but as soon as I was outside I realised there could be THOUSANDS of tarantulas hiding in the bucket and it was dark and I couldn’t see...so I grabbed the bucket and threw it at Andy.  He didn’t seem to mind (in fact I don’t think he noticed, by this time his adrenaline was wildly surging too!)

The bucket was clamped firmly atop the beast and it was safely cocooned beneath - still breathing, still growling, still hairy, still as ugly as sin (not that sin is necessarily ugly is it - that’s the whole point with temptation, it’s attractive right?  Oh, sorry, I digress).

Right, so, well, now...as is the way here the expats like to scare each other with tales of spiders and snakes, and to impress each other with their superior knowledge of all things Cypriot, including spiders and snakes - and not long back we’d fallen victim to the ‘tarantulas hunt round people’s houses in pairs’ story.

At the time we’d naively believed the tale, imagining Bonnie and Clyde type tarantulas marching about people’s houses and lying in wait - one to distract, one to attack.  And so now we thought - uh oh where’s the other one.  So I grabbed my mobile and rang our trusty Cypriot expert in all things, namely Esref.  ‘Hello my darling’ he calmly replied - only to become subject to a barrage of screams, whimpers, cries for help and the request ‘we’ve got a tarantula what do we do?’

Andy grabbed the phone - all I could hear was Esref screaming ‘kill it kill it’ - and he calmly (well calmer than me anyway) asked him ‘do they come in pairs.’ Esref said don’t be so mad before cutting us off, switching his phone off and hiding beneath his duvet.  And when you come to think of it, the thought of two spiders saying to each other, ‘hey, d’you fancy a peak round this place, see if they’ve got anything we can eat or somewhere for us to lie low?’ And then deciding to both enter the property at the same time and wander about hand in hand is so bloody ludicrous that I have already vowed to KILL, MAIM and HUMILIATE the expat who told me this pack of pants in the first place. 

So Andy, needing to be certain anyway (because I told him he needed to be certain in no uncertain terms) decided to ask the neighbour meaning he was about to vacate the preemies and leave me with a snarling killer beneath a flimsy bucket that it could likely cast off in a second before lunging at me and eating me whole...So I made him take all the books off the book shelf and put them on top of the bucket before he went (the 5 centimetres across the hallway to the neighbour’s flat door).

The neighbour, when informed of the situation, and before being asked about tarantulas arriving in choreographed pairs - screamed ‘kill it kill it’ before slamming the door in Andy’s face and retreating swiftly to hide beneath his duvet (I could hear his footsteps all the way to his bedroom and the squeak of the bed before nervous and muffled whimpers and sobs).  BUT HOW BUT HOW BUT HOW should I kill it dear Liza dear Liza.

Oh God - and now for the terrible denouement.
Andy-has-to-kill-the-spider…
So - I lock myself in the office...by this stage I’m sick and dizzy with fear, I’m wearing boots with the pyjamas I had on and I’m armed with my hole punch (well, you never know)...and Andy is on the other side (of the door, don’t worry), armed only with my mop.

‘okay, here goes’
(crash of books and bucket as he (Andy) casts them aside)
(further and repeated crash of mop whacking something LARGE and unyielding)
‘oh #### oh #### it’s coming towards me, I can’t kill it, die you ####er - argh argh argh argh argh argh argh argh argh argh argh argh argh argh argh’
Crash, crash crash.

Loooooooooooong silence.

‘It’s dead, you can come out now’

And dead it was - with its eight legs four sheets to the wind and Andy in a pale and sweaty and quivering heap on the floor.

So, well, yes, it’s a good few days on now and I still haven’t stopped looking over my shoulder and shaking out shoes, pants, towels, bedclothes, cupboards before using them.  I think I’ve been permanently scared - mentally that is - and yes, more so than before.

Andy on the other hand has recovered well but now kills ALL spiders regardless of size or threat - just to be on the safe side.