Bump!

I was asked by a friend if I could do them a 'favour', and being an idiot, and too polite to say no, I of course said yes. In fact, I hadn't even asked what the 'favour' was before saying yes, therefore proving myself to be a complete idiot, and demonstrating my total willingness to be mug for anyone who cared to ask anything of me. I am now considering having the word 'mug' tattooed on my forehead, but apparently, it's like the kings golden clothes thing, it's already there! I obviously can't see it when I look in the bathroom mirror in the morning, further insurmountable proof that I am an idiot! I digress, back to the favour in question. I seems I had 'volunteered' myself for getting out of bed at half past five on a Sunday morning to run a Market stall! My friend needed a few days back in the UK to see his wife, I didn't push for a reason, it's not uncommon for couples out here to develop 'issues' in their relationship. Lack of trust, idle gossip, too much time on ones hands and a combination of the heat and too much cheap alcohol. It can get a bit like a cross between Jeremy Kyle and Coronation Street on steroids and LSD. So, off I go at an ungodly time on a Sunday morning, armed with a set of van keys, some vague directions and a very rough sketch of how to set the stall up. I set off early because I don't like to be late and if you are late they give your stall to someone else, even if you have already paid for it. I arrived on site about twenty minutes earlier than my friend would have done, mistake number one. Its a bit like a giant jigsaw puzzle, all the pieces go in a set order, I was early and so the pieces that should have gone in before me were not there, total chaos broke out. Frantic phone calls went out to missing pieces of the jigsaw checking if they were on their way, and I was now blocking other pieces from slotting in due to the fact I had just dumped the van waiting my turn. The pieces turned up and I shoehorned the van into my spot, no windows in the back to see out of and the wing mirrors had to be folded in to fit the gap, so I got a little help from one of the other stallholders, I waited for the crunch before they shouted stop, but it didn't come to that. But it would later.

After several hours doing not a lot apart from wilting in the heat and drinking countless bottles of water, it came time to pack up and go home. The easy bit, just get everything back in the van, didn't matter how , just get it back in, it was miller time. An hour to set up, but less than five minutes to put away. There was a gap in the exiting vans and the throngs of people had gone, I took the gap and off I went home, biggest mistake of the day. What can possibly go wrong on a ten minute drive home? Quite a lot actually. Half way home I had to take the second exit off a roundabout, I wasn't going to get that far. I stayed in the outside lane because I wasn't going that far round it, got to the first exit, then it happened. Bang! A Scandinavian guy had just got off the motorway and was travelling round the roundabout at somewhere near the speed of light, and decided to take the exit I was just going past, he thought I was going that way too, not my intention, but I was now. Time stood still and everything went into slow motion. He hit the drivers side of the van hard enough to take me off the roundabout and round the corner with him. I don't know how, but because I wasn't travelling that fast I somehow kept the van off the crash barriers. I started coming to a stop and watched in horror as he tried to hold his Audi in the other lane and failed. No barriers on the central reservation here, only the customary very high kerbs that you get here in Spain. He hit the kerb, and the passenger side of the car lifted of the road, all that stood between him and the oncoming traffic was ten feet of grass and couple of scrawny bushes, I thought he was dead. His car had now gone ninety degrees and was running along the kerb on the drivers side doors, then ground to a stop, and amazingly dropped the right way up on what was left of it's wheels. I drifted slowly past him and stopped. Okay, get a grip I told myself. Handbrake on, hazard lights on, get out before someone runs into you. Hi-viz jacket, I need to put one on before I get out, a frantic rummage through all the junk behind the seats and I found one, put it on and got out. A rather polite Spanish man stopped to check if I was okay and expressed his opinion of the other driver verbally along with a few internationally accepted hand gestures, then drove off into the distance before I could say much else, there goes my witness. The other driver had managed to coax his car to the side of the road on the two still functioning alloy wheels that used be part of a very expensive set. He got out and strolled over as cool as a cucumber and asked if I was okay. It didn't seems to bother him that both he, and his passenger, had come within a gnats whisker of pushing up daisies! Here we go I thought, but no protest was forthcoming, it was his fault and he knew it. Meanwhile his wife had turned up and was giving him a tongue lashing in whichever Scandinavian language it was, not sure if was for driving like an idiot or wanting to know who the leggy blonde was in the car with him, guess I'll never know, and don't really want to go there anyway. It turns out the guy is a purveyor of second hand high performance vehicles, so his card said, hence the big Audi. It did cross my mind that the reason he didn't seem fazed by the affair was probably this happens to him often, a bit like scratching a wheel trim to anyone else, and he would just get another car off the forecourt anyway. Both realising that a lack of Spanish was going to be a problem, he suggested we started filling out the accident form and he would ring his mechanic who would organise the Grua to tow the vehicles. Neither of us could find an accident form in our respective vehicles, I had no chance in the umpteen folders of assorted paper in the van, luckily his mechanic had now turned up and had one, that's when things started going downhill for me. One of the eccentricities of Spanish law is you are required to carry all your documents in the vehicle, unlike the UK. Great for car and identity thieves alike. If you get stopped by the authorities, it's fine unless you have already reported it stolen. Is this you car sir? No, it's a friends, I'm just borrowing it. And you have all the documents you need, log book, ITV, insurance (as long as you are over 26), along with all the receipts you'll ever need and probably a copy of the owners driving licence. So, off you go through France to eastern Europe, or maybe a ferry to north Africa and jackpot, sell it the first person with the required currency.

My problem was I could find the owners insurance, and I was starting to get 'looks' due not finding it, their faces said it all, here we go, uninsured. There was just about anything else you could want, an entire life history going back years, along with some large chunks of other people's too, but no certificate of insurance that wasn't years out of date. A desperate phone call to the owner in UK later, getting assured that what I was seeking was there, what I actually needed was the certificate that I had already found and the receipt to prove it was paid for this year. Apparently, if you renew a policy, you don't get a new certificate, just a receipt to prove you have continued paying for another year. The search continued, but this time I had a lots of help, eventually the receipt was found, relief just does not cover it, not even close. The tow trucks arrive, and both vehicles are taken away for assessment by the insurance companies, but not on Monday, it's a 'red' day, the Spanish equivalent of a bank holiday, but more so. On Tuesday the insurance asked me to 'pop in' half an hours drive away to show my documents, which they didn't actually want anyway. My friend asked for a loan car since the other side were paying. Sure, he could have one, come back Monday, so he declined, thinking his van would be back on the road by then. Wrong. This is Spain, it's August, just about everything is shut, and what is open works very slowly indeed. He could not see the come back in September look on their faces, I could, I've seen it before. The wait continues.

A point to note. The police were called at the time of the accident, and after getting across that no-one was hurt, therefore no ambulance was required, and that we had cleared the road and were not holding up the traffic, do you think anyone turned up? I'll give you a clue, it was Sunday and siesta time, guess. I have since found out what all those check boxes mean on the Spanish universal accident form that everyone is supposed to have, so will be better informed if it ever happens again, and will know what to do with it. I have learned, that if you go through a broker for you insurance, as my friend did, things taken a long time to sort, even by Spanish standards, that means forever. I now know of someone who had to pay for his own bumper replacing, then wait in excess of nine months to get the money back! I have learned that you only keep what you really need to in that little folder in the glove box, not your life history, maybe my friend (he's still speaking to me) has got that one too. It will save you a lot of stress at a time when you don't really need any more if you are in a similar situation. I have learned that not all men in their forties have outgrown the boy racer stage in their life. I still go round that roundabout several times a day, and I'm a little wary of cars on the inside lane, I've been carved up before there, but the last time was a little too close for comfort. And finally I have learned I can waffle on a bit sometimes, my apologies.

A Bit Of Something To Do

Although I hate to admit it, after a while you can get fed up with sunbathing! Sure, dog walking is fine, if a bit mad in the heat this time of year, and housework takes up a few hours, and I have run out of books. What I needed was a bit of something to do, a little job maybe. I did find a little bit of part time work, but all it really did was get me out of the house for a few hours and cover the diesel, and it wasn't exactly expanding my circle of friends much either, I needed more. Then one day it appeared, like a mirage, the holy grail of new ex-pats, the hardest thing to find in this climate, but it turned out to be real! A legal, on the books, paid, full time job!! It seems that all those phone calls I made and emails I sent finally paid off, I was taken aback when the phone rang and the guy on the other end asked if I was still looking for work, I wasn't letting this chance pass by, I ripped his hand off, so to speak. Okay, I'm not earning £100k a year working for Sir Allan Sugar, but then the job interview involved a lot of coffee and I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and my future employer did bring his friends along to pull my life to pieces in public either. So, I am now a pool cleaner. I know, I've heard all the jokes now, and some people still think it means spending my day on a sun bed sipping cocktails, afraid not. It's actually harder work than you might think and involves a very early start to get finished before it gets too hot, putting up with community presidents who like to show you who's boss and mess with things, one even wasted quite a lot of water because she thought there wasn't enough water in 'her' pool and left it filling for a few hours, most of which went down the overflow into the drains, never mind, I'm sure 'her' community will appreciate 'her' water bill. One president insisted on telling me how 'his' pool should be kept, I explained that I liked 'my' pools not to have a crust on due to sun cream because 'he' didn't make 'his' community members take a shower before swimming. Neither of them bother me much now, we'll see how it goes. I have now lost a few pounds and gained a few euros, along with a better tan and pool cleaners knees.

Fiesta Time

Last weekend there was a bit of a party atmosphere in Algorfa, where Linda and I now live. The highlight of the weekends celebrations was the parading of the Virgin Del Carmen through the streets of the village in the evening on Saturday. The twelve men carrying her looked to be struggling with the weight in the heat, they paused often, I am not sure if they were having a breather or it was part of the ritual. All the church bells were ringing at regular intervals, they had to take the doors off the church in the square to get the Virgin out before the procession started.  Both sides of the street were lined with people carrying huge lit candles, everyone in the village must of been there. All through the day, firecrackers were being set off, they were absolutely huge. We walked into a street were one was being set off and were guided a safe distance away, the street was then blocked both ends. Then what must have been a fifty foot long monster was then lit. The noise was absolutely deafening, you could feel the shockwaves and see the shop windows bowing from the explosions. You would get locked up in the UK for being in possession of fireworks like these, they would think you were a terrorist or going to hold up the local post office. While the parade was working it's way round the streets, we managed to find a small eatery with an empty table on the street, so we sat down for a bite to eat and a couple of beers. What looked to be the cheap seats in the house turned out to be some of the best. We were not sure which streets the parade was going down, as most of the streets had been blocked off, I suppose we just got lucky.  As our refreshments were served, the procession came round the corner onto the street where we were sitting, bargain. They crawled past us back into the town square, taking the Virgin Del Carmen back into the church. Then the main firework display started. How, in a place with just over 3,500 people living in, can they afford to spend that much on fireworks? The display was awesome, no other word seems to sum it up, they do their firework displays here in style, to hell with the national debt. There were no 'damp squibs' here, it must have cost well into six figure money, and would have put most displays in the UK to shame, even the millennium ones. What does it get like if they get really carried away? I guess we'll have to wait for the football season to start to find out!

Own four wheels

It may not be fast, it may not be new, but it's all ours and paid for. We are now the proud owners of an eight year old diesel fiesta. It's dent free, so we will have to get our own 'badge of honour', which probably won't take long, first trip to Torrevieja ought to sort that one! The insurance was cheaper than it would be back home, and it's any driver twenty six and over, handy when family visit. It came with a two year ITV, so we won't get the usual annual performance that you get back home when they always 'find' something that needs 'fixing'. We have gone 'native' and thrown some Hi-Viz vests over the backs of the front seats, and we'll see how things go. We will have to wait a while for the paperwork to turn up, the shear amount of random 'red' days, fiestas and the like, means everything 'official' is grinding to halt, and Spain seems to shut completely in August, so might looking at September. And now for the best bit, from empty to a full tank of diesel, change from €45! I asked the attendant (anyone remember when British garages used to have those?) to put €50 in and it wouldn't go! At home £50 of petrol for our old Seat Ibiza or Corolla wouldn't have touched the sides, this might be the start of some cheap motoring, we shall see.

A point to note, the police here must be wanting some bonus for the August holidays. It was mentioned in the local papers that someone had been 'done' for having a couple bags of shopping on the back seat on the N-332, a snip at €130! You can see the safety point of view, it should have been in the boot, but most people would think it's a little harsh for a first offence, maybe a talking to might have been better for public relations. We've all done it at home, we will have to learn not to, another quirk of driving in Spain.

Thank you

As of the end of June, I have broken the 10,000 page views mark for this blog. So, thanks to all who have read my scribbles. When I first started, I could never have expected it to be read by so many people. I hope I have given you a few laughs along the way. If I have offended anyone, it was not my intention, it can be easy to get the wrong end of the stick, so to speak, what passes for humour varies greatly from person to person. I will continue to write, but I'm sure there must come a point where there is nothing new to say, we will see. Once again, a big thank you to all.

The cucumber saga

The cucumber saga rolls on. I personally, have never had a problem with Spanish fruit and vegetables, the local farmed produce is usually a lot fresher and tastier than the supermarket stuff, and quite often much cheaper. The scare has now had an impact on the supermarkets, all now have signs up proclaiming the safety of the produce. Lidl has a large one up saying (guessing a little due to lack of Spanish) that they are proud to have Spanish produce on the shelves of their 10,000+ european stores, and will continue to support the Spanish farmers, a good vote of confidence from a German store. Now I see an article in the local papers concerning UHT milk, apparently, it is now of 'poor' quality. It's not unhealthy, as in dangerous, just lacking in vitamins etc. Most people out here seem to buy it because of the long shelf life, although I personally prefer fresh milk, each to their own. It seems that not a week goes by without one food type or another being put through the rumour mill, who do you believe? Maybe I should do as my parents, and theirs did, a little of what you fancy does you good. One of my uncles used to tell me that living a 'healthy' life does not mean you actually live longer, it just seems like it! And if you tried to eat one of our Linda's salads (she will kill me when she reads this), you'd have to agree with him, nothing worse than a badly presented, boring salad, it grows on your plate faster than you can eat it. Next week they'll be picking on something else, and the stress of worrying about what you can actually eat will more likely kill you than the food itself!

Moving on.

Our rental contract expires at the end of July and we had been struggling to find somewhere to move to with a reasonable price tag. It just proves that the rental market here, in particular long term, has had problems with bad tenants. The apartment we were supposed to be moving to was no longer available, the present tenant was having problems getting a mortgage for their new place. It's lucky Linda can talk for England while travelling on a plane. She got chatting to a couple who lived in Almoradi, who happened to have an apartment in Algorfa empty, but only used it for family and friends. They offered to show us round Almoradi, we accepted. The meeting point was the town square in Algorfa, since we knew where that was. They showed us round their place and passed on a few nuggets of wisdom. When it came time to go back to Algorfa so we pick up our car, they said we might as well look at their place there, since I had parked outside it. After a bit more chatting, including the people in the neighbouring apartments, a bit of a wander round, we were pronounced 'good people' and offered the place at a very reasonable rent. Deal done. It's a little smaller than we wanted, but not small enough to be 'seagull' proof. It's a the end of the village, so not overlooked and not too noisy, but still within five minutes walk of the square. Its also directly across the street to where we were supposed to be going. It won't take much to personalise it, and it certainly won't need the amount of cleaning this place took when we moved in. Life is certainly looking up. We picked the keys up today. It just goes to show everything will be OK in the end, and it certainly is good to talk, just like the TV advert used to say.

Thanks for the comments about the last blog. I now know how to say in Spanish that I do not need a carrier bag, I will balance my shopping on my head! I do not seem to have been understood, perhaps I should have been a little clearer. We do take our own bags to the supermarket. I was just pointing out that this 'new and green' stance by the supermarkets is not what it seems to be, and things here never change that quick. Like most things in life, money seems to be the motivation, it's not all as green as it's made out to be.

I was just finishing a glass of wine when writing this, Linda had gone to bed and was reading a book. There was an urgent shout for help from upstairs. After ten minutes chasing 'Colin' round the bedroom, those things can take a battering, it's worse when the little blighters run across the ceiling, I am now back outside finishing my glass of wine. Linda has decided to get up and have another glass, she can't face going back up on her own just yet. I did win in the end, and it's the first one we've had in, and I bet she does not leave all the windows open tomorrow night!