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How a poor, befuddled Englishman has begun to build a new life in Spain.By Glenn Stuart. Well, we’re here. Spain! I have to pause and read back over those few, simple words. Sometimes it’s hard to believe. If anyone had told me 12 months ago that my family and I would pack up all our worldly goods and head to the Sun, I would have said they were either mad or, at the least, dillusional. But it’s happened and we’re here. Spain. |
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I hope you join with me on my journey of discovery of this new land through the words of this column. Most of what I have to say will no doubt be familiar to those of you who have lived here for some time but will, hopefully, be of interest nevertheless. It’s always intriguing to see things from another perspective! And for those of you who, like me, are new and uncertain, then I hope you gain some insight (and comfort that there is at least one other who is groping around in the dark!) into how to survive the vagaries of this fascinating country! So, let me start with how the adventure began…
Arriving at night, in a strange place, is not the best of introductions to this wonderful country. It was almost ten o’clock. The car journey from Malaga airport to our final destination had been uneventful. Perhaps that fact should have set off the alarm bells, I don’t know! We’d hired a seven-seater people carrier. It was huge, and the streets of our new village were narrow and twisting. We had perfect directions, provided by the owner of the house we were renting, but as soon as we hit the place the awesome realisation that we were strangers in a strange land began to set in.
Now, I’m not here to make judgements or be overly critical (although it may seem that way sometimes), but the Spanish are an immensely curious people. They love to stand – or sit – and watch. Stare really. As we struggled, sweated and strained our way through the narrow lanes, they sat on their chairs outside their houses and simply watched. It was late summer and the evening was incredibly mild. The whole world and his dog was out that night. And they all sat, or stood, and stared. It was most disconcerting!
We parked in the street in which our house was located. I had no idea if this was the right thing to do. Others had done the same, indeed there was a vast jumble of assorted vehicles parked in every available space. No one seemed to have taken much care as to where they had placed their vehicle. Again, perhaps I should taken more notice of this, but I managed to find a speck and squeezed the people-carrier in. This was not a simple procedure by any means; I’d never driven on the right before and I was becoming increasingly more and more stressed. Driving on the autovia was one thing, as long as I stayed on the inside lane, but this was a whole different ball-game! My wife guided me in, much to the amusement of my children who were packed into the rear seat . At last, after a short battle, I felt sufficiently confident in my parking to switch off the engine and breathed an enormous sigh of relief. A military-style band was playing from somewhere far off. If this was meant to be some kind of greeting anthem for our arrival, then we were sadly mistaken. No, we were soon to learn, that this was the local band rehearsing, as they do virtually every night. With their vibrating rythm filling the night, we off-loaded and struggled with our cases up to the house. The street was steep. Very steep. Our new neighbours watched us with growing amusement; some raised their hands in a gesture of greeting, others offered a smile of welcome. But it was dark and it was diffifuclt to ascertain whether these were friendly offerings, or merely a resigned acceptance that yet another bunch of seemingly ignorant foreigners had arrived in their tranquil homestead!
Once inside we marvelled at the simple, rustic charm of our accomodation. It was clean and airy and had an atmosphere that instantly let us know that we were no longer in the U.K. – if indeed we needed any reminding of that! The children made a bee-line for the bedrooms, laying claims to their own spaces, leaving my wife and I to the smallest of the four rooms! A fairly typical state of affairs in my disorganised family it has to be said! As we began to unpack the incessant beeping of horns outside began to mingle with the distant sound of bugles, lending the air an even more alien feel than previously. Also, excited voices began to grow in volume. Something was happening outside, something exciting perhaps? I opened the balcony doors and stepped out into the darkness to see what all the commotion was.
It was one of those awful moments that we’ve all experienced, a moment when time stands still and all the world seems to focus its full attention on you, and you alone! The clamour from the end of the street was all because some idiot had parked their seven-seater people carrier at such an absurd angle that no one could get past. Faces were turned in my direction and voices raised; urgent voices, voices of accusation, even anger! A small car was trying to squeeze past and couldn’t and the driving was letting everyone know his disgust! Rushing down the stairs, calling out a rapid explanation to my wife, I ran down to my car, blabbering out apologies to all and sundry. If ever I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole, it was then! My audience watched with growing disapproval, their initial doubts as to the decency of their new visitor being confirmed as he grappled with crunching gears and steering wheel, revving the engine excessively and burning rubber in his wild attempts to escape. He now attempted to do just that, in a roar of acceleration that was quite beyond the capabilities of the vehicle and caused it to stall. I gave a wild and inane grin to the growing crowd, the sweat dripping down my face, stinging my eyes. For a moment I was blinded, then wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and saw a face pressed against my window. The face had a mouth, and it was shouting something at me. Something I could understand! An English voice! All at once a huge wave of relief washed over me, and I opened the window to greet the good Samaritan that had stepped out of the gloom to save me.
“You can’t park here,” he said.
Very good at stating the blatantly obvious, the English! So I grinned, nodded, and gunned the car up the street and thankfully found a parking space not more than a hundred meters away. What a beginning, what an introduction! Surely it had to get better. Surely?
