Sunday 6 May 2012

Episode 23: ....but it's so much nicer to come home???

OK. Massive apologies for the huge length of time between these blogs, but I sort of left you on a cliffhanger and like all the best cliffhangers, they are best left for a length of time. So you see, there is method in my madness. That and the fact that these 60 hour weeks we're currently doing are not conducive to  actually finding the time to write this damn thing! So where were we........? Oh yes, we were leaving the Stalag we had stayed in overnight outside Madrid and heading towards the south coast of Spain - and I (mis)quote "....surely nothing could go wrong?"


The 1912 Titanic 'Fun Run' was a disaster, as the organisers
forgot to put numbers on the runners vests
Well in fact it didn't! We had a lovely week and came home the following Saturday, relatively unscathed. I know, I know, it's called dramatic licence and as the author of this gossip column, I can do and say what I like. If you want drama, go watch "Downton Abbey"......but ignore "Titanic". Sheesh! I was watching it and shouting at the TV "Sink already!"


Mind you, there is no such thing as an easy week in my life and there were a couple of little mishaps that are worth mentioning. The villa itself was gorgeous and as you can see from the pictures, high on the mountainside looking down on the common people of some little town or other. We didn't go as it was beneath us. Beneath us!!! Hey.......do you see what I did there?!?!? 
One finds the quality of the air is so much better at altitude,
when a poor person hasn't breathed it in first
Anyway, it was lovely. So, on the Saturday after the agent had shown us in and left us to it, we went grocery shopping. Not 10 minutes after coming back from the supermarket, I opened the fridge door and the handle broke off in my hands. I mean, I'm used to tugging hard, but I've never had one come away in my hands before. So there I stood, holding this broken handle and wondering what other delights the week had in store for me. Don't forget, this was only Saturday night and our deposit money was already half gone on this........until I saw resin on it from where someone had mended it before; or at least that's what we told the agent. We went and bought some resin, glued the handle on and hoped for the best. We never used the handle for several days, remembering to open the door further up, but one day I plain forgot and off it came again. We left it off and on our final Saturday, showed the agent where the "previous" resin was that obviously meant someone had mended it before and not said anything, the bastards! 


That reminds me, I must order the bouncy castle for
José's 50th birthday party next year
In terms of the deposit, the rest of the week passed uneventfully with not even one broken glass, until the very last night there. Sitting out on the patio by the pool, we used the two wooden chairs that were outside, but one of them was very rickety. Being the larger one of the two of us (AKA fat), I never used that one and always sat in the one on the right. Earlier on that Friday, José had moved his chair out of the wind and into the little bit of sun we had that day, which meant that HIS chair was now on the right. Going out after dinner for one final look at the lights in the little town, I forgot the chairs had been swapped round and plonked me fat arse into my 'normal' right hand chair and it just splintered under me. And I do mean splintered. In my defense m'lud, I'd not sat in it all week, but yes, my curvaceous body was too much for it and it gave way. As we looked at the pile of firewood where once there had been a chair, our immediate thought was to chuck it, get another one out of the cupboard and hope that no-one would notice, but being honest people, we decided to come clean to the agent the next morning. 


It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do. The next morning, I awoke really early with this chair on my mind. As did José. Shoving it into the boot of the car, I found myself driving down the mountain into the little town below and dumping said firewood into a bin in a back street where no-one would look. I then drove back, we put another chair in it's place and acted like nothing had happened. I'm sure people the length and breadth of Britain heard my sigh of relief when I got the full deposit back, along with a message from  the lady who owned the place saying how terrible it was that some people had mended the fridge door and hoped to pin the blame on others and not to worry about it. How kind of her, we thought!!!
José took so long setting this picture up that pieces of me were
actually dropping off in the cold water as he clicked the shutter on the camera
As you can see from the lovely pictures, we had our own pool and I do love a villa with a pool. It makes me feel just that little bit more special to think that this pool is mine and that no elderly woman will be in there in her whalebone all-in-one and, when in need of a pee, will be thinking "Oh sod it Muriel, it took half an hour to stuff this lot in this cossie, so I'll go where I stand." So, I know that we went there at the beginning of April and I knew the pool would be cool, but I don't mind cool water because once you move around a lot, you warm up. I decided to test that theory and jumped in. One very quick length of the pool later, hypothermia was already setting into my extremities and out I got, looking more shocked than if Lord Sugar had just popped by in full drag and asked me about felching (look it up - it's not pretty!). The trouble with having your own pool (or piscina) is that it just looks so inviting, so each day, like the goldfish that can't remember what day it is 5 seconds after he's read the calendar, I tried it again. After about the fourth day, I did actually stop and didn't go in again, proving that even morons can learn something if you tell them often enough


And then there was the small issue of our sleeping arrangements. When we got there, we found that the main bedroom had a waterbed in it. Not only a waterbed, but a heated waterbed. It was like sleeping on top of a moving bath. We thought that it could be fun but to give you some idea of exactly how it was, watch this.............



I spent many nights being tossed into the air each time José turned over and no, before you make any jokes about that, it wasn't fun. Tossing is best left to Pancake Day. There aren't many people who can wake up in a morning and acknowledge they feel seasick whilst remaining landlocked. Even now I think I'm going to have to have a lie down as I can still feel the sensation, although my nightmares about being on the Titanic have thankfully stopped.


Actually we did take some ECT electrodes, a
bargain for €5,99 from El Corte Chino,
although after a couple of shots, 

José now thinks I'm called Enid
Of course we were there to work and work we certainly did. We don't travel lightly and took one small wheely case and one briefcase full of electrical equipment - laptops, cables, iPads, iPods, ECT electrodes (just checking!) the film box we have with millions of films on, so that we had something to watch, oh it was fun. We looked like we worked for some sort of telecommunications company at one point. Initially we sat outside in the blazing sunlight of the weekend, but this gave way to stronger winds and a cool breeze, so we dacamped to the lounge for the rest of the week. It took us about three hours to connect all the electrical stuff, so once we'd moved back inside, that's where it stayed. We started out with massive enthusiasm and worked constantly for the first few days, but then we realised we needed a break (known as "can no longer be arsed") and so tailed off on the last few days and went out visiting other places instead. Not that it mattered as we completed one online course and made huge inroads into the other one, so things are moving on.


The 'Coruña Cliterati' at our 2010 Christmas Party.
Unsurprisingly, it was an all-you-can-eat buffet!
The following Saturday brought us back to reality and life with the in-laws again. Much as we love them - and we do, make no bones about that - we love our independence too and this holiday made us both realise how much we miss it. We need these online courses to work so that we can find our own place and if they don't, then it's back to prostitution for us both once again. Which reminds me, I must buy some more mayonnaise.




_________________________________________________________________________________
In memory of Jackie Parkinson
RIP chuck xx

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