Varying Journeys


Well, that was a farce.  Sonalee offered to be one of the Three Kings for the parade around the village  –  the dark one of the three obviously.  She was entered into a draw for the honour of doing so but her name did not get pulled out of the hat (a metaphorical one, I think).  So the organisers said she could be a Page to the ‘winner’ of the draw.  So Sonalee was to be a Page to a woman who would be blacked up.   She said no.  This is 2023 not 1960. 

Such a shame.

Anyway, mum had a good time with us here in rural Andalusia.  Sonalee looked after her well and she saw quite a few castles.  Christmas dinner was okay and the post Christmas dinner drinks/desserts at Casa De Jan was memorable.  I think.

We have had another heatwave here in Southern Spain, the third of the year.  We have only been here for four and half years but we have noticed the changes in weather that seem to be occurring ever more frequently.  It is the middle of winter and we should not be sat around wearing t-shirts with the large upstairs windows open all day.  It just isn’t right, and I don’t mean from a ‘we wanted a white Christmas’ point of view.

It is gradually ruining the harvests around here.  As you wander round the fields with four excited dogs you can see how the olives are either teeny tiny or too dark or both.  Much of the harvest has been left on the floor because it doesn’t make economic sense to employ people to collect it.  Even our lemon tree has suffered, giving us a bounty that is noticeably smaller this winter. 

We don’t rely on the olives for our income  but plenty of people around here do, or at least a part of their income.  Many have two or three or four different jobs but if the olives aren’t growing it will affect every part of the life of the village. 

View of Alcuadete

My grand career plan to win the Spanish lottery did not come to fruition again last year.  This year, this year…

The end of the school term was unbelievably hectic with a three day science fair, over 200 reports to complete and a football tournament in between.  It was a bit nuts especially given that Sonalee also had weekly parents evenings for a month.  We teach too many children and we teach too many hours and we teach too many students who are arseholes.

Mum just found out the Pompey result…

You get arsehole kids (and parents) wherever you go but some places have higher percentages of them than in other places.  You also get really lovely students of course and we have quite a few of them as well.  But the really lovely ones aren’t the ones who cause you grief.  The really lovely ones write you Christmas cards saying how much they appreciate you.  Or just make you smile when you see them.

Neither of us are particularly looking forward to returning to work next week but I assume that will be the case for everyone.  We are also not relishing leaving the village so soon.  Two weeks is not enough.  The house needs some work on it and we can only arrange this if we have time to hang around and wait for the factored-in delays in getting it done. 

We did have a first this year – a Christmas hamper.  Apparently it is part of any Spanish work contract that if a company has been doling out hampers for a number of years then you have a right to expect one at Yuletide.  We were not disappointed.  It was seriously nice.  Yes, I know getting a hamper full of goodies valued at around 50 euros shouldn’t be a cause for celebration but… screw it, it was great! 

What was also great was my team of enthusiastic girls getting 2nd place in our tournament.  Considering our goalie had taken part in one training session three days before and had never been on a football pitch before, I’ll take that.  Quite muted celebrations back at school – everyone is too busy to notice about sporting  success.  Exam results are everything, literally everything.  Nothing else matters.  

Such a shame.

Back here the village, we were reminded that it had been one year since Antonio also known to us as Farmer Jack had died.  We do miss his scruffy presence and his love of so many dogs.  Sonalee has been attempting to rescue a dog that has been wandering around the village but without success – he just doesn’t want to be rescued, the ungrateful sod.  Our neighbours have been as lovely as ever and always seem happy to see us and the dogs.

There are still too many empty properties here in Fuente Tojar; every second house seems devoid of life.  This is a real issue for the whole of Spain – the countryside is being left to rot whilst the population heads towards the big cities.  The national government are trying to help this with various schemes open to businesses and employees who might want to work remotely – really remotely in our case. 

But if you’re young and full of energy, would you really want to rock up in rural Andalusia?  It’s cheaper than the city but there’s a reason for that.  If you want the dynamic culture and cuisine and nightlife that has attracted so many of our colleagues to Madrid, you’re really not going to get it here.  Will places like our village be the refuge for oldies like us and a trap for young locals who could not get away or afford to do so? 

Will the smaller villages and hamlets that are around Fuente Tojar be left to the ravages of time or, worse, be left to the ravages of Brits eager to buy cheap property but hate that they can’t get a decent curry and complain endlessly?

All of these pueblos need money and they need people to live in them.  The Spanish aren’t keen on doing so which means it will be foreigners who invest and try to make a life here.  It has taken some locals a long time to accept this and the local politicians even longer.  Most foreigners are fine when they move here; many are not.  Some learn the language well and some, including us, do not.  We are, however, trying to do so.

Not speaking the language means we are missing out on so much.  It is also embarrassing.  You can get by without it when everything is going smoothly but it is when things go slightly wrong that you notice it more – car breakdowns, doctors, vet visits, urgent house repairs and the like.  This year, if nothing else, we are determined that we should learn and improve no matter how difficult it is. 

Perhaps if we stop moving country and/or continent for more than a year then we will get better. 

Still, the dogs have absolutely loved being here.  Even more so given that mum was also here to fuss over them and give them even more treats.  We did our annual distance race again – down to 5K because I have been crap at keeping up my  fitness levels – and Luna helpfully rolled in boar shit for that added ‘gift’ when driving home from the Via Verde.

The cat has been pissy the whole time.  So, no change there then!

It has been great to see our friends again except that we don’t feel like we spent anywhere near enough time with them.  We didn’t even get to see our friends who took in Bibi.  Too short.  Too short of time to do all that we wanted to do.

Hopefully, inshallah, we will be back for a week next month and when you say it like that, it doesn’t seem too long to wait. 

I guess we had better journey on back to the north and miss being here.  The mountains should be interesting if it snows – the dogs have never seen snow.   No doubt Luna will find bear or wolf poo to roll in should we venture up there with them. 

Don’t forget  that we only live half an hour from Madrid airport – you know it makes sense. Happy New Year!

Ayubowan,

Hasta Luego, ciao

Paul

PS:  So, farewell Maxi.  The things you left behind are works of genius.  We thank you.