We arrived back on the Thursday, getting home in the early evening. Mood was upbeat as we had discussed all the way back what we were going to achieve during our next visit in 4 weeks.
I have to point out here that as soon as we had agreed on a completion date on our Spanish home, Deb had hit the internet and organised a few visits during 2019. When I say a few….well, firstly was a 5 day visit that we had just returned from following the completion, she then booked a 7 day visit 4 weeks later at the end of March, this was to be our next trip. Following that one we had a 14 day holiday in June, a 9 day trip in August for our Anniversary, a 14 day holiday the last week of September to the first week in October and finally a 7 day, pre-Christmas jolly the week before Christmas.
Contrary to popular belief, you don’t get the flight bargains by waiting until the last minute. Deb has an App that informs her as soon as EasyJet flights are released. She is then on it with a vengeance and has saved us well over a thousand pounds this year alone by being organised, planning our breaks away and booking flights early. Well, that saving is over 6 holidays and who in their right mind takes 6 holidays in a year?
Fortunately I work for myself and can dictate my own holidays, although I still have a commitment to my clients so I can see a lot of late nights and early mornings this year. Deb was another story though, she is employed, but as a Contractor, so she can take as many holidays as she wants but she won’t get paid for them. I don’t think though that her boss had an inkling she would be taking in the region of 45 days off work during the year. It helped that he’s just a figurehead and a clueless, unprofessional buffoon who doesn’t have a handle on the operation of the business and relies on suitably qualified subordinates to get him unscathed through each day. He never twigged when Deb kept sending in her holiday request forms. We were both therefore looking forward to our March trip completely unconcerned about our holidays and focused on works that needed prioritising.
Primary project was the pool renovation. The pool, using the term very loosely, was an old water deposit. This would have been used as a water source for the property before it was attached to a mains supply. The water deposit was about 4m x 3m and 1.5m deep. It had been painted by the previous owner and they fitted a rudimentary filtration system. The patio around was paved and had a ‘tasteful’ gazebo frame cemented in. As difficult as this would obviously be, we were convinced we could enhance this area still further.
Firstly, we had to decide who would be the lucky benefactor of our generosity when we offered up the gazebo frame on a ‘free to good home’ basis. We only knew Julian and Marijse and they didn’t want it, unsurprisingly, so Pedro would have to cart it away for us.
The next discussion was whether we had a full pool installation carried out or adapt the existing water deposit as just a dip pool. ‘Chances are,’ I said, ‘we will only be able to use an unheated pool from about May to October.’ ‘That’s right,’ replied Deb, ‘and the most we will be out here during these months is about 5 weeks.’ I thought about this and said, ‘It seems like a pointless expense at this stage to have a full pool installed when we will only use it for about 5 weeks of the year.’ ‘I agree.’ Deb said.
It was therefore decided that for the next 3 to 4 years, before we retired to our little idyll, a dip pool would suffice. We could look at installing a new pool from scratch when we moved permanently. ‘I know what will work for our pool,’ Deb said, ‘a couple of steps down to a platform, partially under water, then a few more steps down into the pool.’ ‘Ok,’ I said, ‘it sounds interesting. Not sure how you will get that across to Julian.’ Deb then researched small pools, sourced a few example photo’s and sent these to Julian. We asked him to get prices from Pedro for transforming our hole in the ground to a really welcoming dip pool.
You’ll need lots of imagination
While Pedro was working out how to polish a turd, we re-commenced our Spanish lessons each Saturday. We turned up at our little school and were greeted by a new student, Julie. Similar age to us, roughly and very talkative and lively. Having a new person in the group worked really well and came as a useful distraction in the increasing hostility between myself and Phil. We had started off on the right foot but as the first couple of lessons had progressed she seemed to have a little difficulty when we were asked a question by Beckie, our teacher, and I had the audacity to get it right before her. ‘Swot’ and ‘Teachers Pet’ I used to get from under her breath, but said in a jokey manner. You can take the girl out of the playground but not the playground out of the girl. No matter, I’m a big boy, I can rise above such ridiculous trivialities.
Following the completion on our Spanish property, along with Alan and Phil completing on theirs the week before, Beckie decided to structure the lessons more around real situations, including shopping and eating out. I got this, I could apply it and it made sense. It was hugely useful and went some way to offsetting the anxiety of the supermarket checkout. Mind you, the anxiety was only on my part, Deb thrived on the experience and would quite happily ‘have a go’ at communicating with what seemed like appropriate words. If she didn’t know the Spanish word she would say it in English with a Spanish accent. The poor person she was addressing must think she was taking the mickey out of them. I wouldn’t know whether to laugh or stick my head in a bolsa, that’s Spanish for bag by the way. So it was with a huge amount of relief that we dealt with these situations.
Very soon, and with confidence, we could book a table at a restaurant, in smoking or non smoking, inside or outside and for whatever number of people. The mysteries of the menu written only in Spanish were also a thing of the past. We could wander round Consum asking for a wide variety of different foods, ask the checkout assistant for however many (bolsas) bags, and also understand the price when quoted to us. I was determined on our next visit to surprise and amaze with my new found knowledge and converse like a local.
Deb was coming on brilliantly, and what little she struggled with I seemed to thrive on, so between us we would be able to take on the world. Well, the Spanish speaking part of it anyway.
Our classmates were coming on too. Julie seemed to progressing nicely, Phil was basking in her own magnificence when she got something right, which was surprisingly infrequent considering this would be the second time she’d been through this course. Yes, I know, it’s a petty comment but some people bring it out in you. Then there was Alan, I liked Alan, but he came across as if he just couldn’t be arsed with it all. I think he was dragged along by Phil every week to keep her company. He either didn’t do his homework or he’d spend 5 mins in the car outside doing it before the lesson started. I understood why this was when he told me their neighbours all spoke English, where they had bought there house was a touristy place so everyone spoke English as well and you didn’t need Spanish to get by on a day to say basis.
But then why bother? It was Beckie I felt sorry for. Teaching is a vocation and the ability to deliver lessons and share hard earned knowledge shouldn’t be wasted on folk who haven’t got an interest. We’ll that’s what I think.
Deb and I would throw ourselves into our homework on the Saturday afternoon after class or on the Sunday. Then we have on-going revision during the week and have a refresh just before travelling to class the following week. It’s important to us that we get a grasp of the language. Julie came each week with the same upbeat attitude as well and would be clutching a huge tardis like bag, from which she would retrieve all manner of books, pens and reference materials in readiness to absorb more knowledge. We three alone had enough enthusiasm and motivation to fill a small classroom. Ability was a little lacking in my case but I tried to balance this out with my effort.
In the meantime, in between our weekly learning experience and my battle of wills and maturity with Phil, the pool refurbishment quote had landed from Pedro. It came in just shy of 5,000€ including tax, but is that good, bad or what? I had no idea. They would be installing Deb’s platform and steps, tiling the whole of the inside of the pool and the patio area round it, installing new pump, filter, jets, skimmer and er… other pooly bits, so it sounded quite reasonable but a little bit more than we had budgeted for. ‘It needs doing,’ said Deb, ‘we’ll need it in the Summer.’ ‘OK,’ I replied, ‘I’ll arrange for us to meet Julian and Pedro when we go back to the house and we can organise the work to start.’
A few days before we were due to return to Spain, Deb was in work and talking to a colleague about the pool reurb to be arranged during our next visit, when her boss overheard the conversation. ‘Are you off again?’ He said. ‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘You remember you signed it off before Christmas?’ Glazed, vacant look took over as the internal cogs slowly moved into action. ‘Oh yes, that’s right,’ he said, followed by, ‘I think it may be an idea to get a Planner for the office wall so everyone knows who’s away and when.’ ‘Great idea.’ Deb said, cringing at the thought of all her holidays for the year being on show for all the world to see. ‘I’ll get onto it as soon as I get back to work.’ Like that was going to happen.
Two days later and we were airport bound. Valencia and Ontinyent here we come again.
Moving to Spain? Help! 