Whilst sitting in doctors waiting room, trying to figure out if I was in fact in the right queue, as one side are waiting to see the nurse, and the other side to see the doctor, only as in most things in Spain, there are no signs, so you really have to take pot luck. I usually try to see if anyone is wearing a sling or a bandage or an eye patch at least, then that’s usually a sign which queue I should join. Today I was lucky as an English nurse was on duty, highly unusual.
I got talking to a middle aged man, who had moved to Spain over 12 months ago, he asked if hubby and me fancied a game of darts in the tennis club, the following Thursday. He had bought one of the new houses, in the small village not too far from where I lived. ‘Little Britain’, me and hubby called it. Why not we thought, although we did stress, we would just call for a drink, as darts are definitely not my forte, unless someone was looking to be impaled, by a loose flying dart, as targets are just not me. Darts in my hands seem to turn into rubber and bounce. I don’t care how big the dart board is.
Little Britain, or Wisteria Lane, as I call it, was initially a small farm, it was granted permission, to change the original ‘Rustica’ land surrounding the farm, or ‘cortijo’, as they are called here, into an ‘urbanization’ and building soon began. Initially building was slow, with only three plots completed, and the rest of the land, left swampy, piles of bricks all over, but no building in progress. We soon discovered the original builders had gone bust, the recession, as with many other European countries had hit them hard. Unfortunately, one of our neighbors, a local kitchen contractor, who was responsible for installing some of the kitchens, prior to the slump, had not been paid, and he himself, is now facing financial hardship.
Building has now resumed, although I understand various different builders are involved. Also houses are only been built once a deposit has been received, and contracts signed. To be perfectly honest, I cannot understand why anyone, would want to come live their dream, in Spain, which offers, stunning scenery, beautiful views, lashings of fresh air and tranquility only to be surrounded by other British people ,why not move to Milton Keynes? The space between the houses, is minimal, you could shake hands with the man next door, and not leave your front door. There would be no point in trying to swing your cat; it would be slapped like a cartoon character against the neighbor’s front porch, no room to swing that even.
The first indication that another fellow countryman has joined the community, is the proverbial satellite dish, strategically pitched on the roof, god forbid anyone would miss Eastenders. Over here the dish is the size as a small island and quite impossible to hide. Then the St Georges flag is draped from the roof terrace, which fortunately are now not so abundant, after the disastrous show in the World cup.
My German neighbors just cannot understand it, ‘How do English people live’, they say, which I have no answer for, as I cannot understand it either. Anyway, Thursday came and off we went to the tennis club, we expected to see a couple of people, but were amazed to see the car park full of GB registered cars, the club was packed, all English , throwing darts. It made me wonder just how many times in the UK, these affluent, middle aged ex pats had ever been into the tap room, of their local Brewers Fare, let alone actually joined a darts team.
In fairness, they did all seem to be enjoying themselves, but it is in my opinion inevitable, that this new found comradely will break down, and the rifts appear and someone will offend someone else etc and then the dragon slayer will surface. People will complain that the English papers, are too expensive, and why don’t you get the Sunday supplements, despite the paper been printed in Spain, or why do people talk Spanish and not English , why does everywhere close at 2pm, or the classic, ‘It’s too hot’, we will see .
I will be keeping a close eye on this one, watch this space.
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