So being without Dante and Sparky is the new normal here in the castle town of Almodovar Del Rio. It will take some getting used to. We all miss them both a great deal and it has very much contributed to our collective feeling of, well, feeling low.
We have a new car, which is also taking some getting used to. The insurance company made us an offer that was surprisingly good and we found, after much frustration, something available at a local dealer.
The thing we found was that, here at least, what is available on the internet has absolutely no relation whatsoever to what is available in the real world. And that the men (it’s always men) who work at a dealership haven’t actually got much of a clue about the cars that in their showrooms – stuff like if it’s already sold, if it’s actually for sale at all, if it’s electric or diesel or even one of theirs.
Show them the stuff on their website and they just look at you like you’re some kind of weird alien asking for something that has nothing to do with them.
No matter. We found something and it’s nice but we still miss the Berlingo van. That, too, will take time.
I still have nightly dreams of crashing the car or very similar scenarios involving some kind of accident and damage and shouting and Spanish police. I’m pretty sure that will pass fairly soon.
I also have some panic attacks whenever I see a car approaching from the other side looking as if its driver is thinking of trying to overtake a slower vehicle or cyclist. That will take a while to stop as well.
How the Hell do people who have suffered real trauma deal with these horrible feelings and flashbacks? One of the poems we studied at school recently dealt with the PTSD of a soldier in Iraq. The poet’s trauma was very real and very stark. It made our worries seem rather trivial in comparison.
With regard to the drivers of other cars you have to realise the absolutely appalling standard of driving here in Andalucia where reckless fuckwittery is fairly normal. The misuse of indicators is worthy of a 5000 word essay all by itself. Do not get me started on the bizarre ideas that Andalucians have about roundabouts or even what a red light means at traffic lights (hint; red doesn’t actually mean red)
It means that every day’s journey to or from work has some highlight of sheer incredulity that could be discussed in any staffroom.
Anyway, Almodovar Del Rio. A sizeable town with a famous castle that was in Game of Thrones and populated by fairly friendly chavs. It is most definitely a Chavtown but it also has pockets of places elevated from such base descriptions. It has a Michelin Mentioned restaurant, for example. And a few odd museums. And a Roman Portage to the rather large river that passes it.
Because of the issues that we’ve had since we moved here and the pain of what has occurred, we haven’t explored the town as much as we could have. We look forward to doing so once the dark nights start to get displaced.
The dogs quite like it. We get walkies by the river for a few mornings per week and an off lead walk in one of the olive groves nearby. When the weather is warm they get to sit at the open window and bark at people as they walk past the house.
They do miss us when we go to work, obviously. But they have each other and a cat who likes to hang around being cute. Sambol doesn’t have the freedom to explore far here because the road outside the house is very busy all day. He prefers it when we go back to Fuente Tojar, partly because there is an open fire there for him to sit in front of.
The town did have a bit of a nightmare last weekend when torrential rain caused havoc in the streets. It looked scary, as did the debris that has yet to be fully cleared from the roads around and in the town.
It could have been much much worse; a kind of event that brought tragedy to Valencia last year where over 200 people died and hundreds of thousands of people’s lives were upended.
That event loomed large in the news this past week after the disgraced mayor of Valencia finally resigned for being an arsehole (He’d had a boozy 3 hour lunch with his favourite journalist when his regional government should have been issuing warnings and help to citizens)
Like lots of male Spanish politicians he painted himself as a victim. It’s what they do here. You’re corrupt and/or useless and something goes wrong so you blame a conspiracy to mask your inadequacies or blatant abuse of power. The arsehole ex head of the Spanish FA who sexually assaulted one of the female Spanish players launched his book which had the title of how the media and feminism were “killing” him.
This whole idea of male privilege is still extremely strong here in Andalucia. You see it with some of our students who obviously get their ideas from their families and you see it back in the village where the boys are very much treated differently to the girls.
But, back to Almodovar. Its medical services are very good for a small town. I feel that I should have some kind of loyalty card for them given that I have been visiting their “Urgent” clinics once every two weeks for a variety of “old male who is a twat” issues.
Long story but I had my first ever ambulance ride at four in the morning to the main hospital in Cordoba to get a CT scan. Very exciting. Various knocks and infections have also meant I know the medical centre staff by sight now.
We think Almodovar might be a little bit farther than we would like to get to and from work but it is cheap and it is accessible and it does have character to go alongside an absolutely fabulous castle and river.
It’s also just an hour and a half from our home in Fuente Tojar which is where we go most weekends. This is important for us both and for Luna who needs the olive fields there.
We are rather fortunate that we can come back to our home that is looking bit “mature” at the moment. By mature I mean bits are falling off and not everything works as it should do. There is always something that needs fixing, upgrading or changed when you buy an older home.
What to do?
Well, for now the intention is to try and stay warm in both places. Fuente Tojar is colder than Almodovar but we do have a wood burner in the village to heat the house up and for the cat to sleep in front of. To be honest, that’s all that we are really bothered with at the moment. The bigger stuff can wait for a few weeks.
We are slowly, very slowly, getting back to some kind of normal and we will get there soon.
In the meantime, don’t forget to purchase my love letter to Luna i.e. my book called Pods in Space. All proceeds go to Ibizan Hound Rescue here in Spain. Writing it was a process that I really enjoyed, almost as much as I enjoyed actually receiving a copy of it in the post. Buy it on Kindle or in paperback on Amazon, you won’t regret it.
Ayubowan,
Hasta Luego, inshallah.
Ciao
Paul
PS. I heard this on the car stereo the other day and was reminded of how joyous it is. And there is this very happy tune as well.