Transitions and renovations....more to follow

BACK IN my home town of Bolton I have spent the last few weeks updating our flat. We downsized from a semi-detached house in 2005 to a two bedroom ground floor flat. The intention to make it age-proof, for when we enter our dotage. The other reason was to then spend most of our time in Spain. We knew that one day we would return to the UK permanently and we did that on the 14th January 2010. On the 15th January we started the long-haul towards living in a refurbished flat with as many mod-cons as possible to make up from the lack of sunny days.

We bought a car which we collected a couple of weeks later and then went into Harvey's furniture (the one that is advertised before and after every episode of Coronation street) and ordered two sofas, a dining table and 4 chairs. I am currently sat here on a temporary chair, with my laptop on the largest of a nest of coffee tables waiting for a phone call from them telling me when the goods will be delivered,,,yes 27th April and ordered on the 15th January, of of which is fully paid for. We have had a new bathroom designed and installed in the meantime, wooden flooring laid in the lounge a new TV unit and display cabinet custom built, and the hall lounge and bathroom decorated, all Harvey's needed to do was order and deliver a bit of furniture...I won't be rushing back to Harvey's!

I am a Freemason. I don't doubt some people reading this have already imagined pant legs rolled up and thinking "secret society" etc. Well I have become accustomed to that, but as a Freemason I am encouraged to be trustworthy, honest, patriotic, and charitable, and wherever possible I do my best to uphold those values. I have taken on the role of Master of Ceremonies in my Lodge. The Lodge is the oldest Freemason's Lodge in England, outside of London. My role involves overseeing all the activities in the Lodge and seeing that they are carried out in accordance with the rules and regulations of our constitution. One of our most pressing activities is raising funds for charity both Masonic charities and non-masonic ones. In fact next week we are holding a charity fun evening with a small quiz, a 4 course meal and a 30 minute comedy magic act, all for £10 per person. The fund raising will come from a raffle held during the event. Half of the finds will go to the Handicapped Children's Pilgrimage Trust (HCPT) and the other half to a charity chosen by the Master of the Lodge, likely to be Bolton Lads club.

The reason I have explained this is so that when I undoubtedly mention the Freemasons in the future, you will understand the context.

In June, Ange and I are off to La Cala again for a weeks holiday, stopping in a holiday let. We are going for the San Joan fiesta, which I have blogged in the past, this year most of the clan are returning too so it is looking like a reunion as much as a holiday.

Here back in England I am slotting back into the routine, and tonight I am going on a Brewery tour to our local brewery 'Bank Top'. It promises to be a great evening and a report will be given in a subsequent blog, along with reports of UK social events and where possible how they compare to our experiences in Spain.

So my loyal readers, stay tuned after my brief absence I will be writing here once more on a regular basis....with a bit of humour I hope....

Spain to rain...

WE HAVE gone and done it. We moved back to Bolton after 5 enjoyable years in La Cala one of the finest bays in the world.

The move gave us mixed emotions. On the one had we were leaving behind some excellent friends, who, we have no doubt will remain friends for the rest of our lives. On the other hand we are looking forward to doing new things, taking holidays elsewhere in the world and finally getting to grips with our UK home and doing the improvements we perhaps should have done when we first bought it. However the first thing I did 12 hours after landing at Manchester airport, was to go to my nearest Kia dealer and bought a new Kia Pro Cee'd Strike.

But let me describe our send off from La Cala. Ange and I went for breakfast at Simply the Best, an English bar on the main street owned and run by Debbie and Chris, two of the nicest guys you would wish to meet and providers of food at exceptionally good prices.

We took advantage of the breakfast which is on offer at 6 items for 2.50 euros or 10 items for 4.50 euros.

Debbie and Chris allowed us to hold our leaving party at their bar, they also put on a buffet for us. Eighty people turned up between 2.30 in the afternoon and midnight, we didn't appreciate we knew so many people.

After we had finished our breakfasts we said our goodbyes to Debbie (Chris was working in the new town) and went home to make final checks that we had left the apartment tidy and clear of all our property. The next bit we knew was going to be difficult. I set off for the marina Bar. Ange decided to have a few minutes to herself before we left.

Jeremy and Colin were already sat inside the bar, so i joined them. On the next table were Margaret and Denise. Slowly but surely the guys arrived until we had around 20 people taking up half of the inside of the Marina bar. The reason we were indoors was because the wind was so strong outside with small sand tornados running across the beach. The last to arrive were Jonathan, Michelle and Connor and last of all Pete (Dave had gone to England for a week). I mentioned to Antonio that we were celebrating our leaving. "ju hare leaving us, why you not tell me before" he said quite startled. "I told Pepe last week, I thought he may have told you" I quickly replied. He went away and I carried on chatting. A little while later he returned with four bottles of the best champagne he kept and uncorked the first whilst Salvador distributed champagne glasses. Antonio said "Salud to Bob, (pronounced the way Rowan Atkinson said Bob in Blackadder) and ankela" and everyone toasted us. Antonio continued "an' done forget dat dees bar ees dee best een la Ca come an see us even when Bob ees gone OK?" Antonio is never a one for letting an advertising moment go by.

As this was going on the wind was howling outside and at one stage a mighty gust cleared the patio of tables and chairs and threw them across the street, which meant Antonio and all the staff had to chase after them and bring them back to the bar and safely stow them in a corner to prevent a re-occurrence.

The time to leave arrived and we bade farewell to everyone in the bar except Pete, Neil and Patrick who wanted to wave us off. Jonathan was driving us to the airport, so we had to go and get our cases from the apartment and hand our final set of keys back to the estate agent.

There were many tears, and as we re-emerged the lads were clearly upset and sad to see us go as were we. We got in the car and set off, but Jonathan went left out of the car park instead of right and as we neared the roundabout there they were 20 people at the side of the road and as we approached all we could hear was "I'm coming out of Make-up..........." Jeremy was serenading us away!...

-----watch out for tales messages from Lancashire.........

Injecting new life irrespective of the plumber

...I AM currently in England. The picture right is a reminder of the view I have from my Spanish apartment, which is incidentally the Marina bar.

My reason for being here is to start taking insulin for my diabetes. I guess no-one ever has or will relish the thought of injecting themselves (I of course exclude anyone taking drugs for recreational purposes I guess they do enjoy it) but sometimes once the barrier has been bridged it doesn't seem as bad as you expected and I have to say that injecting insulin so far has not been too bad. The problem is that by taking insulin I now enter the category where I am in danger of what they call hypo's which is short for hypoglycemia or low blood glucose levels. If severe thus can lead me to feeling sick, sweaty, dizzy, and a bit faint, very severe can mean losing consciousness. Consequently as much as I love Spain, I have never been in the Spanish health system and continue to pay tax in the UK and National Insurance, I really want to be able to understand what is being said to me medically, for obvious reasons. I can't praise the Bolton diabetes centre enough, they are very caring and helpful, and I feel confident enough to work through the early phases of insulin, because they are only at the end of a telephone should I need them.

However, the Benefits agency are something else.

When my Dad died earlier this year, I had dealt with the estate over quite a protracted period due to his will being held by the law society because the Solicitor (who was a family friend) had closed under a cloud, seemingly. Once I received it I paid another solicitor to deal with probate and eventually closed down all his bank accounts and paid all the creditors. Some 3 months after his death, the Benefits agency wrote to me telling me he was overpaid an attendance allowance by around £3,000. His estate wasn't large, but they were claiming this money from it. I was quite incensed, the Nursing home were very competent and I felt they would have dealt with this at the appropriate time. I contacted the nursing home and they put me on to his case worker. This lady was very helpful and mailed me a copy of the letter and fax confirmation sheet, proving the benefits agency were informed at exactly the time they should have been and the error was the Benefits agency. I subsequently got in touch with them and agreed to pay £150 a month because I wanted them to offer some compensation as it was their fault. I am still dealing with it but they have accepted they were not very efficient.

Also because I retired early from paid employment due to ill health the Benefits agency agreed to pay my Insurance Stamp for me. A few weeks ago I received a multi-page questionnaire regarding my state of health, so I completed it and returned it almost straight away. A few days later I received another letter from them saying that as I had failed to return the questionnaire, they will no longer be paying my insurance stamp and I will now be eligible for statutory sick pay from my new employer. So I rang them up(they do not seem to be very good with communication, I have dealt with them twice and on both occasions they seem to have ignored whatever has been sent to them.) They repeated that they hadn't received the document and said I should ring them up on the 27 th October. I received another questionnaire through the post which I completed and posted by recorded delivery. That cost £4.60p. When I returned from the Post Office I had received mail. Guess what? I had one from the benefits agency asking me to attend a medical at the local office. So I rang them up, they confirmed they had received the original form and were totally unconcerned that I had sent another questionnaire at exorbitant cost. Today I attended the medical. I answered every question honestly, the Doctor took my blood pressure and checked my lungs and pulse. Sympathised with my state of health and seems genuinely concerned with my lot in life. I left feeling worse than when I went in.

Which brings me on to the subject of plumbers. My hot water tap in the kitchen was dripping and the toilet simultaneously decided to fill the cistern in a trickle taking at least an hour to fill.

I called our local plumber. I waited in all day, then had to go out, so my son Ian waited in a few more hours then he had to go out, we both tried to ring him but had no luck. I rang him the next day and he apologised saying the major job he is on is not going too well. He did come on the Tuesday next. He fixed the tap but said the gubbins in the cistern needed replacing (you see my mastery of technical plumbing terminology) He would come thursday at 2 pm. Itis now nearly 5pm thursday and no plumber (I just rang him. All is not well on the major job he is doing he will come Saturday). I am making a mental note and a written note in this blog, not to pick this Plumber to do our new kitchen and bathroom.

Back at the Marina bar I hear that takings are down since I have been on this sojourn in the UK. It is my intent to try and get back there before the 26th November because it is our 32nd wedding anniversary, and I want to live to be able to see the 33rd one......

Spanish inquisition in Court and from an ex-pat

...ANGE HAD to go to court the other day. She had to give evidence to the court regarding the theft of her purse in the market last Friday. I went with her to give some moral support. The court house is about as inaccessible as it can be if you don't have any transport, fortunately we have the car.



Just on the outskirts of the Old Town is a new bus station which is anything but central. The one redeeming factor is that all the major roads, rail and bus networks converge at the same place. For a pedestrian it is a major walk from town and therefore there would be need to either catch a bus to it, jump in a cab or drive. Above the new bus station is a shopping mall, to the side a brand new Bombero edificio (fire station) and across from it adjacent to the N332 national road is the department of Justice for the Valencia Generalitat.



Ange had a paper given by the Guardia Civil office, instructing her to report to the 'Juzgado de instruccion No dos'.

We arrived at the court as it was just opening to businessat 9.oo am. We had to go through screening process as you do in the UK where you are patted down by a Gurdia Civil guard and searched by a metal detector, Anges purse was looked into. We followed the instructions and went to the third floor reception desk. The lady behind the counter was busying herself rustling through papers, and was clearly not available for consultation. We sat in some nearby seats, when a young Spanish couple arrived brandishing smilar paperwork to Ange and they decided someone was going to speak to them. Eventually at 9.20 am a lady did respond to them so Ange followed suit. We had some Spanish and she no English so we decided, after being directed downstairs that she meant all the way downstairs to the ground floor where all the salles de instrucion were. We arrived and parked ourselves in the seating available. After a few minutes a lady emerged from one of the (we presumed court-rooms) and posted a notice on the door. Ange's name was on the list as a witness, so we approached the lady who is like an usher. She ticked off Ange's name from a list and the lady asked if she needed an interpreter, Ange said she did. Within minutes the interpreterwas there and we were invited into the court.



In the court were two ladies in gowns sat at a horse-shoe shaped desk, with microphones in front of them, they looked like the Spanish equivalent to Magistrates. A third lady appeared to be a clerk, taking notes of the proceedings. Ange was invited forward and was aked in Spanish and then in English to give her account of what happened. She did so. Then the two defendants who appeared late were asked to stand and give their defence, one at a time. The magistrates all the way through everyone's evidence asked appropriate questions as and when they felt appropriate. As Angela finished her evidnce the main Magistrate asked if she was claiming the 25 euros back, which she confirmed that she was.



After all the talking was over, Ange and the defendants were asked forward to receive their passports and sign for them. The interpreter said "That's it the decision will be made in a week" and we were excused. The entire process was less than an hour, very efficient an was handled extremely professionally. The fact that Ange and I hadn't a clue what the defendants said or what the Magistrates comments were, we felt it went OK.... We may have some money coming back soon, or we may just never hear what happened ever again...

...The thing about living in a small village like La Cala de Villajoyosa, is that the local ex-pat community know everyone, even if they have never said hello to each other. Your business is their business.

After 5 years living in Spain my wife and I have decided to move back to the UK permanently. However, our experience of our home here in Spain has prepared us to appreciate the times of the year when being here is best. For example San Juan and New Year. So our intention is to have more holidays around the rest of the world, preferable outside the Euro zone so it is cost effective, and come to Spain for a month at a time or more as and when we know our friends will be here and the weather is comfortable (my blog will continue from wherever I am). So as I went into the Marina bar yeserday I was somewhat surprised to hear a guy I have only ever said hello to, shout across to me "I thought you had gone back home Bob!" A bit defensively I replied "...er, no! Sometime in January 2010."

I found a free seat and sat in it as Pedro brought me my customary first round of two ice cool Mahous. The bar was emptying as it was the end of the siesta period, Ange had gone onto the beach for a sunbathe and I was enjoying a relaxing few moments. To my right there was a group of English tourists who had not long since arrived with baggage heading for their hotel, their quick turnaround was impressive and six or so of them were quaffing their first sips of beer in their shangri la for the next couple of weeks. However, the man behind the voice telling me I had moved back to the UK took the golden opportunity of allowing this group to impinge on his space, and he came and sat next to me. "So how come you are going back." he isn't backwards at coming forwards. "....Let me see, 1.08 Euros to the pound at commercial rates, increases in the cost of living in Spain, a rent of over 700 euros a month, no sensible works for non-Spanish fluent ex-pats, the fact we haven't had a real holiday in 5 years and the necessity of many ex-pats to know all of your business all of the time......hows that for starters" I replied and quickly added "oh! and that unfinished hotel over there, and the fact that Amancio's Anfora building around the corner is almost certain to fall down and kill someone before the inept administration in Finestrat village does something to safely demolish it." I thought that was enough information to kill the subject, but no he decided he would continue. "No its not the place it used to be he said" . "It has many positives." I continued. "But having been here for nearly 5 years, I have seen most sights several times, been to most bars and restaurants and now feel I am in need of more adventures and hopefully elsewhere in the world." Ange and I along with a few of the guys have booked a week long Nile cruise and stay in a 5 star hotel on the red sea in November of 2010. Laurence did some sterling work to get us all a great deal and it promises to be an excellent break. Also next year Ange is 60, and she fancies a mediterranean cruise to celebrate. On top of that we have an aging apartment in the UK in need of some TLC and we want to spend some time rennovating it. Ange is already looking at bathroom suites, carpets, sofas, tiles etc. So I somehow think 2010 will be interesting. "I may go back permanently or more often" said Richard (I had to ask his name because whilst I knew him by sight his name wasn't known to me) I come here for 2 months and stay in the UK for 1 month, my ladyfriend is very into her grandchildren and won't move permanently." He expanded. "I also have an irregular heartbeat and maybe need some medical treatment". he further explained. "Well Richard (I felt like we were now on first name terms) I too have a medical condition, my diabetes is worsening and on the 27th ofthis month I have an appointment with a diabetic specialist in my hometown with the prospect of starting insulin treatment, so I will feel much more comfortable dealing with this in English rather than Spanish"

As I had completed this latest revelation, Gerald a friend of David and Pete's and his wife along with two other friends arrived at the bar. Gerald already knew of our intention to move back to the UK, and was doing some background work seeing if anyone would buy my car. He came over to me to ask about his Sky TV. He said "Bob, do you know anyting about having to get a new sky card?" "I don't Gerald, other than I know n the UK they have to retune a lot of TVs because of the Digital changeover, maybe thats the reason." I answered. "No......" interupted Richard. "Do you pay a subscription, because that will be the reason." "No this is free to air, I have no premium channels", "Well I think you will find if you don't get a new card you will lose all your channels because its all to do with pirate usage in spain" Richard came back quite animatedly. "....let me finish please.." interjected Gerald. "...Whenever I have been back to the UK, when I return I have to power everything up again and often have to re-set the box, I think it may have something to do with that." I asked "What about th guy who installd it, can he help?" "oh no, if you as much as ask him to look at the box he charges 40 euros." I have a friend in the Costa del Sol who deals with satelite installations so I told Gerald I would ring him to see if he has any suggestions. Gerald returned to his friends a little bit miffed with my companion Richard. I was by now hoping for a miracle to happen, because Richard was clinging on to my company like a limpet mine. That miracle happened in the form of Ange wending her way back from the beach with sunbed in hand, it seemed to be Richard's cue to leave.

Gerald headed my way again, "...Where did you get him from?" asked Gerald. "I haven't spoken to him before today, but he seems to know everything about everyone including me." I replied. "Well he won't be getting to know me." he said as he returned to his table....

Ange and I now replete, decided to go back to the apartment and settle down in front of the telly. On our way out we bumped into Jack and Pauline who are back from the UK after their Summer sabaticle. "Hi Jack, good to see you back." I said "And I owe you a debt of gratitude, I stopped taking those atenalol pills on the basis of your advice. I told my Doctor that I had stopped them. He said to me on the basis of which diagnosis, I replied 'Jack!' and he asked the obvious who's Jack" I expained. "How did you explain that one?" asked Jack. "Well I said that you had encountered similar side effects to me and was advised to stop taking them, so it seemed like the right idea for me too." I continued. "The Doc said, 'Well I concur with your diagnosis not on the basis of Jack, but something slighly more clinical namely its interaction with another pill you take which combined tend to lower your heartbeat and consequently your blood pressure to very low levels'. I repled to the Doc that the outcome was the same and trust jack because he was a police diver...to which the Doc rolled his eyes..." Jack was quite amused at this, but I felt I had to dampen his enthusiasm for any further homeopathic consulations. "The Doctor did add that I would be best advised to seek medical advice, rather than that from an ex Police diver in future, as he sensibly pointed out that he would be remiss if he advised me to switch off an aqualung at 50 meters, so your advice should be treated with suspicion regarding medical matters.

I suspect Jack was completely unphased by my final statement as he was still smiling as Ange and I took our leave......

Chick...chick...chick...chick....chicken

I WAS sat on the balcony reading the daily UK papers when Angela came home in a somewhat distressed state. "Are you OK?" I asked (although I knew she wasn't). "No I have just had my purse stolen on the Market" was her dischuffed response.

She had been to pay our rent at the CAM bank, fortunately she paid that first, otherwise we would have lost a considerable amount of money.

In her purse was 25 euros in cash, a Euromillions ticket for the draw that night and sundry cards (none were credit or debit cards) a copy of her passport, loyalty store cards, and a couple of small personal things of small value.

She had gone on to the market to get a cooked chicken, they roast the chickens on the market and infuse them with various spices, they are excellent for lunch with salad and crusty bread. As she walked through the crowd she bumped into May, who is one of the proprietors of the fish and chip shop in the bay, and they were catching up on the bay gossip. Ange was aware that someone was close by and not particularly shopping and noticed she was wearing a bright pink top but dismissed it as the Spainish can be 'In your face' at times. When she said goodbye to May, she decided to get her purse and the money ready to buy the chicken. That's when she discovered the theft.

After she had related the story to me, she said she had to go and get some more money and that she still hadn't got the chicken. I decided (a macho thing) that I would go with her, and insisted on holding her bank card just in case. She drew some money and we went to buy another lottery ticket (6 Euros), and on the way back bumped into Denise and Margaret. Ange told them what happened, and Denise said "We have just seen the Police down there and they seem to have arrested two women for something, it may be them". Ange was off, in the general direction of the Policemen. I intended to follow but continued the chat with the girls when I saw Ange frantically waving at me from next to the Farmacia (Chemist). I made my excuses and went to meet her.

"See that one in the pink top I am sure she stole my purse" She was pointing at one of two ladies that the police were detaining. One of the Policemen was rifling through their bags pulling various suspicious items out, none of which belonged to Ange. Then a lady came across the road, asked us if we were English and said she had nearly been robbed but scared them off and she too thought it was the one in pink. Following this lady's departure a Belgian man approached: "my wife was robbed of 500 euros by these same people a while ago, they even took our passports, they work in threes so one of them has got away." he told us. Eventually the Policeman came across to confirm what was lost, and said he had not found those items. However he asked us to give a statement to the Guardia Civil up in Finestrat village. We still didn't have our chicken and the market closes at 2 pm, and I was due to take Dave and Pete to the airport in less than an hour, so I asked if I could go later, the policeman insisted we go now. I rang Dave to see if he was ready to go a little earler. "Sorry Bob I a not shaved yet and we have to make our sandwiches for the flight, (makes a change from the boiled eggs he does) so I will be around 20 minutes." I couldn't press them it wasn't their problem so I thought I would take Ange to the cop shop leave her, go take Dave and Pete and come back to pick her up.

So I did exactly that. I dropped her at the Guardia Civil office in Finestrat. I could see through the door and the two accused were sat in the waiting area, and Ange had to walk past them, but I thought in Ange's state of anger if they started anything they would be in serious trouble and decided to leave her. After I managed to navigate the extremely slender streets of Finestrat, I rang her for a status report, "I have to come back in an hour, so I will go to Molly dos for a coffee." (We don't go to Al Fresco anymore, but that is another story which I will take great delight in explaining at some later date) I said I would ring at the airport and get a further update. I then collected dave and Pete and took them to Alicante airport.

I rang from the airport and Ange was clear of the Guardia Civil office so I arranged o meet her near Molly dos. I couldn't park in the village so had to ask her to abandon a fresh cup of coffee so I could just drive off.

She explained what happened. A statement in Spain is usually called a denuncia (in English the best interpretation is a denouncement) The Guardia Civil interviewer spoke no English, Ange has a fair amount of Spanish but she decided she would take someone along to interpret, it was a lady from molly Dos. So Ange duly told the story and the interpreter interpreted. The only English conversation was about th UK when Ange had asked the Guard if he had been to England and it turns out he had been to the Lake District. No wonder the Spanish are convinced that constantly rains in England. "Anyway..." Ange said, "...the upshot is we are in court in Benidorm next Wednesday at 0925 in the morning." The two women had been arrested and remanded in custody.

We still had no chicken! And the market had now closed, so we went to Carrefour, bought an uncooked chicken, and a bottle of whiskey to refill my drinks cabinet, and we went and had an all day breakfast at the chippy.

As we walked past the market as the stall holder were clearing up their stalls, we went to see if the purse had been discarded. No such luck. So we went home 25 euros down from the theft of the purse, 6 euros down for buying a new lottery ticket (incidentally we only got two numbers correct in the draw) and 15 euros down for the interpreter I will dismiss the 12 euros for lunch as it was pure gluttony and we could have eaten at home. We will have to buy a new purse and re-copy ange's passport so she can use it as an identity card for using her debit card. So all-in-all it was an expensive Friday. The moral of the story is to ensure you zip up your hand bag/wallet, make sure you can see your bag at all times and most of all from our perspective, don't consider buying any more cooked chickens from the market our last attempt cost us 46 euros and still no chicken........

Lost Baggage and torrential rain

THE FIRST real rain of the season hit us this week. Rain to the Spaniards is like snow is to the British, one flake/drop of rain and the UK/Spain stops. Yesterday it was the worst I have seen it and I filmed it with my Phone you can see the video here on YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECxj6MQr5vQ is was at its peak when I filmed it.



We were there with a few of the lads, Mike and Doug, Peter and David, Rick and Joanne, me and Ange.



I had been in the UK for about ten days. I have all sorts of medical checks, but the one thing cauing concern is my diabetes. It appears I have to commence insulin. Not someting I relish but everyone tells me my life will improve as a result, so Ihave to ring te diabetes centre in my home town on the 8th October to determine when I go to see the consultant and get trained up in injecting myself etc.



When I arrived back in Spain I came into terminal 1 at Alicante, this is a notorious airport for having no passport control on entry, you simply leave the plane and go directly to baggage control. When you get there it is like any baggage control the world over, several conveyor belts in a row and a screen telling you which one to collect your bags from. I stood at the side of the belt and watched the mandatory childs pushchair rotating lonely on the belt, thinking to myself 'If that is from the last flight and the owners forgot the pram, I wonder if they forgot the child somewhere too' I started to fret as the choice of bags began to deplete, then as I saw the last bag removed from the belt and th alarm go off to warn the belt was about to stop, I realised I wasn't going to get my bag today.



On the one hand it didn't matter about most of the things I packed, but had a supply of diabetic pills and a new glucos reader along with software to load onto my PC, so I then started to work outthe logisticsof getting my medication in Spain as I am not in th Spanish sytem because I retired early and cannot get free medical cover here, also private medical cover is not much use because it would not cover pre-exesting conditions, so the only option left to me seemed to be see a doctor privatey and pay for the prescription to be made up.



However I first needed to seek out the baggage handlers to explain my plight and the warn my mate Dave that I may be a while before he picks me up. I approached a security guard and explained that my baggage was missing, he asked who I flew with and then said Serviceair dealt with baggage issues from that company, so off I went. Fortunately catching them just before they went off for a break. They took my details and I took my lift back to La Cala.



The frustration of this had me a little frought and my wife noticed I was less than happy, so we decided to go for a meal at Deja Vu in the bay, later we were going to meet Joanne, Rick and Michelle at the Marina bar. My return had coincided with rain showers, and the river of water running down the main street was later likely to mean we would have limited access to home but we wanted food so dismissed the negative prospect. However, whilst we were having an aperitif, a chap called Alan came into Deja Vu, he looked like Captain Birdseye, with a yellow waterproof jacket, yellow waders green wellingtons and a sou' wester. I, conversely, was wearing jeans and a T shirt. Now either I was under dressed or ignorant to the bad weather about to occur in the bay or Alan was being a touch pessimistic. I said to Alan "have you lost your ship?" to which I got a tirade about him being stuck in his apartment for 4 days and nothing including a storm, was stopping him coming out today, so as they say in all the tabloids, at this point I made my excuses and returned to my drink.



After the meal and the bar we went home quite early, and I as usual was up at the crack of dawn, watching a dull sky and the first drops of rain. As I was taking advantage of theMonarch lost baggage tracing site onlne, the phone rang and a rather exciteable Spanish delivery driver was frantically telling me he had something to deliver and could I explain where I lived. (I have to say this is what I think he said because he was speaking Spanish at the rate of a gattling gun.) In my best Spanish I tiold him the address and the directions even which shops etc. were near by. His interpretation of my pigeon Spanish was clearing not sufficient enough fo him to follow my instructions and I received another phone call frm a Spanish lady but she spoke in English, saying the driver was parked outside number 5 and he couldn't find a number 9. I took this opportunity of asking if he was delivering my luggage, and she confirmed this was so, then I told him in english how to reach number 9 and that I would be waiting at the building entrance. Within a few minutes me and my luggage were reunited just as the heavens opened and the rain poured.



In the afternoon we had plans to meet with Dave, Pete, Doug, Mike, Joanne, Rick and Neil, which we did. The rain was slight when we arrived, but it got progressively worse, and the river on the beach formed, then the culvert under the roundabout couldn't take the pressure, the manhole lids blew up ito the air and the street then became the river, we saw dustbins and plastic barricades washed into the sea, and it became impossible to cross the flow, cars couldn't drive through it and the Police cordoned off the area, we sat there oredered another round and contemplated the benefits of being trapped in a bar.........

Bus stops to pit stops a treat in any language...

...BEHIND BENIDORM is a mountain, it's called 'El Puig Campana' and to the left side of the mountain is Finestrat village. The Village is very quaint with many houses being traditionally Spanish in style. There are also some nice bars and restaurants. In the last blog I described our day out for Angelas birthday at Al Fresco, and it was so nice, that we decided to go again but this time on our own.

We decided we would be able to catch the bus both ways this time. The trip there was non-eventful except we went a totally different way than the last time we went. It was most picturesque. We turned on to the area known as 'Terra Mitica' this is really a theme park, but a rather large urbanisation has grown around it along with Golf Courses and some expensive hotels such as 'Asia Gardens'. All the way through the park there are roundabouts and on each one is a fountain. Each fountain is different, but all rather spectacular.

The bus continued through te park and up past 'Terra Natura' (the Zoo) and then on to a country lane which was deep in the Campo (country side). Eventually we got our bearings and realised it was approaching the village from the opposite side to when we took a trip before.

The meal was as good as before, prior to which we had a little stroll to look at the village and it is no surprise than a lot of ex-pats like to live there.

We caught the bus home at the place we got off and it returned the same way as we came, but before we set off the attentive (unusually so) driver, asked if we could feel the air conditioning. He obviously couldn't so he proceeded to turn the engine off and then on again, which seemed to make him happy. Off we went. Sharing our bus were two young ladies in front of me, and Ange sat behind me (irrespective of air conditioning it was still extremely hot, so we thought cut the heat down by sitting alone) behind us was a very well dressed man in his 30s. As we left the village we come to a place known as the plantation and a rather large lady got on the bus. As I remarked earlier it was very hot, so why, when there was at least 20 free seats, did she have to sit next to me? And the driver was right because it was getting warmer and we could no longer feel the chill of the Air conditioning.

We continued down the hill on its meandering path and I was most glad when my side of the bus moved out of direct sunlight, because Hattie Jacques sat next to me was more effective than a high tog duvet. We went along through the 'Terra Mitica' park and as we came to the last bus stop, the driver stopped (there were no passengers requesting a stop or anyone at the bus stop), we assumed it was a regular stop place for him to mark time or something because he switched the engine off. Ange and I had remarked that the air conditioning has stopped working, so we hoped he wasn't there long because my temperature was rising along with everyone else. The driver then tried to start the engine again. It didn't kick in...again...still no luck, the two girls in front of me got off the bus and stood in the shade of the bus stop. Hattie next to me decided I was making her too hot and she moved acoss the aisle, and the well dressed chap behind moved down to the driver and decided to give him some advice about starting the engine. Our hitherto good mannered driver seemed to resent the advice and the well dressed bloke made a hasty retreat and joined the girls in the shelter. Ange and I debated walking home from there, but as it was in the high 30's C we thought better of it. Then the bus started, the air conditioning kicked in and everyone got back on the bus. The driver made it clear that he was not going to stop his engine again. We managed to get home with no further complication thankfully.

Whilst public transport in Benidorm is second to none, the Spanish passengers and Bus drivers seem to clash an awful lot, especially when the fare increases. When Ange and I first arrived the fair anywhere was 95 cents it is now one Euro 25 cents. The first time we noticed an increase, the time taken to get to Benidorm doubled, why? Because we would stop at the next significant bus stop, which is outside the Bali Hotel, and a long line of Spanish holiday makers are about to get on, it was 95 cents last time they were here. When presented with 95 cents from passenger no 1 the drivers says "No Senor uno Euro!" "Que" says the passenger "Uno Euro" the driver repeats, the passenger then says to passenger no 2 "Es Uno Euro", who then passes it all the way to the back of the queue and the last one says with emphasis "UNO Euro?" which filters back down to passenger no 1 who foolishly says to the driver once more "Uno Euro?".........................."SI UNO EURO!!!" is the driver's somewhat impatient reply, and then they all get on. So multiply that with the 20 or so stops until he starts the circuit again, and bear in mind he will do that trip several times over 8 hours you can imagine how frought that guy is by the end of his shift.

You may have ascertained from this example that the Spanish are a bit careful with their money. In previous blogs I have explained 10 people will sit at a bar table with only one having a drink, and the when Pensioners get almost free holidays for two weeks at Government expense, they seem to have a game to determine who can spend the least in each group. You see them sat on a wall, or a bench, or a rock, but rarely in a bar or restaurant.

So, when my friends and I all turn up in the Marina Bar, Antonio nd Pepi's eyes light up with a welcome unimaginable. "Ah Bobby, dos Mahou mi amigo...." and in an instant I am sat with a beer in front of me. The bars, Hotels, restaurants and public services all prefer expats to native Spaniards because we spend.

Recently we have made friends with a Dutch couple Yan and Joche (pronounced cockie) they are a lovely couple but unfortuntely Joche is not in the best of health having had a sroke which has affected her speach memory, so she can't speak perfectly in Dutch, and she used to have several languages but has lost them all. We do however converse in English or Spaish. She can remember some English so to Joche we just speak English even though we know she can't grasp everthing Yan believes it is good therapy for her. They like us, as expats have made the bar their local and Antonio and Pepi see them as valuable customers.

Yan has perfect English, Dutch and as far as I can tell Spanish. So he keeps me on my toes by talking to me in Spanish which makes me delve into the memory banks to recall all I have learned. As a consequence of this we were in the bar a few weeks ago and a lady came into the bar with an older gentleman who had one of those electric buggies. Theman had clearly also had a stroke and the lady seeme to be his helper. There was a natural common subject which sparked a conversation between the lady and Yan. The lady was speaking Spanish, as far as I was concerned she was Spansih, however it transpired she was Russian. She had no English at all, so she asked me thins in Spanish, fortunately basic stuff, like 'did I livehere' 'which building' 'for how long' etc. This level didn't tax me too much, but once she thought I could speak Spanish the speed increased and I was soon out of my depth. Yan interpreted where I couldn't make any sense. And here is my point dear reader.....Yan told me that she only started to learn the language 8 months ago....... It made me feel quite inadequate....