Day 68 - "More pain in Spain"

Spanish Practices

Day 68 and the miserable news that we stay in phase 1 for yet another week. The peasants are revolting in Madrid and the leader of the far left Podemos Party - Pablo Iglesias has had to call in police reinforcement to protect his luxury mansion in an exclusive part of Madrid from the hoards complaining that they do not have enough to eat.

Find out more at: https://www.thesecretspain.com

Day 68 More Pain in Spain

Friday and the day dawned full of promise but by the time afternoon came, God had emptied his full steaming privy over Granada, here in Spain.

I woke to a message from the plumber, he had found the American product to fix the little drip, drip, leak in the pool room and would come at ten.

He arrived at exactly at ten, this in itself is worthy of a small round of applause. His face was like thunder though and he stomped down the stairs. I tried to make small talk with him about the new road. He just scowled at me and barked “no entiendo” raising his left hand up as he went down the stairs.

He disappeared into the pool room, so I amused myself by taking the rubbish down to the bins that stand at the road below. The new road that the tarmac team made yesterday is looking good, if a little sticky.

And now that we have a new roof on the communal cesspit, the whole who Estate is smelling a sweeter place to live in.

I returned just in time for the plumber to knock at the door. His face beaming like a small schoolboy. “Come, come and look.” I followed him downstairs in my bare feet, to look at his handiwork.

It looked exactly the same as before, but he informed me, “Cinta es mas fuerte, no gota”. Or this scotch tape is really strong, no drips.

The day is progressing well. I have put together a new Podcast for another new client Dr Stephen Simpson – The Zen Doctor’s Luck Podcast. Where he talked about how you can attract good luck if you work at it.

Sadly I must have taken my eye of the boil because next on the list was my first trip to the big supermarket in town, now that we can go in the car together, if not shop together. Chris has said, you will hate it. Well..

We arrived to discover the side exit and main fire exit, closed up. Entry was only at the front. Alcampo in Motril is a large hypermarket owned by the French Auchan chain.

Entering I veered left to go to the opticians, at last I can get my glasses fixed.

The Optician came out in full regalia – mask and one of those plastic visors. I said “mucho problem mi gafas” as well as I could behind my mask.

I proffered the case over. With two engloved fingers she picked my spectacles up like they were a rather solid dog turd. She looked at me and said. “MMmdnnd gdghfs fhgjdfhd mmmm”

“Perdon, no entiendo.” - I said I was English and that I just can’t make out what she is saying particularly when I can’t see her mouth.

“Rota, no gooood, it is no good” she said. Then she said “Cita Preva”

.. an appointment will be needed. She jabbed a blue plastic finger at the computer keyboard. Sighed and then picked up a notebook, and in Spanish said Monday at six. To emphasise she thought I was a complete idiot she held six fingers up at me.

I smiled, which was a waste of time. She sighed again, as she didn’t see my smile of recognition behind my mask. “I write for you.”

She handed me a slip of paper with the appointment on.

I put the glasses back in their case and snapped the rest of the hinge and temple bar off.. “f*** it!”

Off to the Supermarket, oh dear what a sorry state the place was in.

Parts were roped off with that tape they use for police investigations, including a lot of the clothes had that tape across then.

It would appear that you can buy a TV but not a book in phase 1. That does sum up the lunacy that happens when a government gets involved in what a supermarket can and cannot sell.

I also noticed you could buy a Barbie pen set, but not a Barbie doll. The shelves were in quite a shambolic state.

The supermarket itself had quite a few shelves that had that look of a department store in Moscow under communist rule, it was very hard to social distance, so I do think wearing a mask might have helped if the bloody thing had deteriorated into a sweaty Kleenex around my face. It was nudging 32c outside and Alcampo was equally hot inside.

Then to leave the store a queue stretched through the not for sale books and round to the Barbie pen set for sale and across to the Barbie Dolls not for sale.

We waited, socially distanced with separate baskets in the queue. Finally I got to the front. A security Guard, dressed like he was on a mission with the SAS bounded towards me and shouted something incoherent to me, behind his snazzy 3M mask, waving at my feet.

Ooops I was in the front of the queue but I had dared not to stand on the line in front of me, which seemed to make him very angry. I moved forward and he retreated.

The cashier waved me forward and this was a pleasant experience, quite normal, save for the mask. I paid by credit card and we both went back to the car.

We returned home to the news that the socialist Government have once again decided, despite our health area passing the criteria, to prevent us moving to Phase 2 on Monday along with the rest of Spain, but it would appear despite Madrid not making the criteria, they will move to Phase 1.

More dirty deals behind closed doors. It has also helped that the leader of the communist Podemos Party - Pablo Iglesias a boy with a ponytail, who is currently Deputy Prime Minister has been having a spot of bother at his luxury home in an exclusive part of Madrid. With demonstrators complaining that they do not have enough money for food, whilst Pablo lives in style in his mansion in the city. The Guardia have responded and put a little manned police kiosk outside his house for protection.

So Madrid gets a little treat for not manning the barricades, there are many days in Spain when the politics stink more than the drains. Here’s to another week stuck in Phase 1.