...The pedalos have gone from the beach so its officially the end of the Summer season. Over the past few weeks I have had dental problems and had to go to the Spanish dentist. Initially I had a cavity, left after a previous filling fell out, then I got another cavity on an upper front tooth and to really force me into action a gold cap fell off.
My wife has used a dentist around the corner called the "Dentalium" so off I went to see the dentist. She speaks perfect English so communication was easy. She told me I needed a canal root filling on my bottom left wisdom tooth (on my way to the dentist I bumped into Steve my friend and ex-prison Officer, and he enquired if they were going to put some wisdom teeth in, the cheeky blighter), a filling at the top and a general clean. The bill for this was going to be 271 Euros, so I said OK. Within seconds my mouth was beginning to freeze and she had the drill in my mouth working away. I thought I would have a stay of execution as it were until a further appointment, but this is private dentistry so no time like the present.
She drilled, filed, reamed and filled the tooth with a medicated temporary filling, then she stuck my gold cap back in and said: "We will complete everything at your next visit" I asked how much she wanted which was a bit immaterial because all I had on me was 70 euros and she took it all. leaving a 201 euro balance next time. The next time came around and she finished the wisdom tooth, finished the upper filling and then did the hygienist bit, where she found 2 more fillings so that was another 60 euros.
In the meantime me and Ange went to England for a week. We always enjoy looking up our friends back in the UK, but the week we were there was absolutely none stop. We arrived at Manchester airport at 12.30 am, I had hired a car over the net so went to pick it up. I am used to driving on the right hand side of the road, so for a brief while I had some intense concentrating to do until my mind snapped into UK mode.
On the following morning we got up early and went to see my dad who lives in a nursing home (he is 92 nearly) and spent an hour or so with him and he was in great spirits. Then we went to town Ange was meeting her friends, and in the evening we went to Deb's and Mike's for dinner. Day 1 was hectic but very nice. Day 2 Ange went to visit her mum in a rest home, and we met up with our friends Dave and Ali in the afternoon. Day 3 a Plumber should have come to our flat to fit a new gas boiler, but he cancelled until the following day, Ange went to the drop in centre for a blood test and in the evening we met up with our friends Joe and Julie in a pub. Day 4 I had to go to see the Cardiologist for a check-up, then go see my Dad again and in the evening we went to our friends Brian and Christine for dinner and were joined by Ian and Christine, our son and Brian and Christine's son, another excellent night. Day 5 Ange had an appointment at the hospital, then we went to see her mum again, Ange went and met her friend Glenys and in the evening we went to Tiggis restaurant in Bolton with Anne, Bill, Fi and Colin. Day 6 Ange went to meet ex-work colleagues, I went in town for a few errands and in the evening we met Jackie and Alan and Jackie's cousin and new partner at a great pub called the Wagon and Horses in Hawkshaw near Bolton. Day 7 we flew back to Spain. The week was very busy, but we had great weather, not as good in Spain apparently..
Back in Spain the rain had been teeming down, floods once again removed half the sand from the beach, but apart from a rainy arrival, the following day was nice and the following day Sunday was raining first thing, this was the day that Peter, Dave, Patrick, Neil, Trevor, Andrew, Laurence and Tony and Trevor's brother and his wife were going up to Las Palmeras restaurant at the embalso de Guadalest. So instead of sitting out under the arbor, they had to sit in the main dining room.
They still enjoyed it, I was meeting them after they came back, which turned out to be 11.30 pm for me because I had a previous appointment. When I arrived they were all having a singalong, much to the bemusement of their fellow international drinkers. To say they had imbibed a sufficiency of the falling over water would be an understatement. Dave was semi-recumbent in his seat, Trevor had that kind of glazed over look, Pete was uncharacteristically slurring his words, Neil had a fit of the giggles and Trevor's brother Brian was leading the communal singing.
I received an excellent reception from them and I was directed to a chair and Jesus delivered my first drink of the day a bottle of Mahou, with a strange smirk on his face, knowing that I was sober and my friends very drunk. There is only one thing to do on such an occasion and that is catch them up quickly, so I drank a few drinks quickly, to try and get into the same mood. It was too late they were way ahead of me there was an impromptu pub quiz, where questions were asked but even the quiz master didn't know the answer. Eventually everyone decided they had drank enough and the 8 gay men jumped to their feet to give each other a hug goodbye, whereas me and Brian stayed sat down acting all butch offering a manly handshake. But by now the lads had thrown caution to the wind they dragged me and Brian to our feet and said you are getting a hug too, I decided it would be churlish to refuse so there was I being hugged by 8 gay men with Jesus looking on shaking his head in disbelief...................I didn't realise how much I had missed Spain..........I rolled home at 0145......Oh and this morning I went and had 2 more fillings done..
The Marina Bar
La Cala de Finestrat beach. On the right of this page there are site links of people who have been in my blogs. Feel free to go have a look.
Tuesday, 30 September 2008
Monday, 8 September 2008
Road hogs and road rage
..Driving in Spain is a revelation if you are used to British roads. For example British drivers know all the codes of driving, even if a few don't always comply. In bars you hear people saying "I was driving towards the roundabout when this chap carved me up.." and the story-teller usually gets sympathy from his audience because everyone there has experienced something similar from time to time. Equally how many British drivers have been accused of 'rubber necking' at an accident? Many no doubt, but because it is seen as abnormal behaviour, people tell stories of how they were carved up or stuck behind a 70 year old driver doing 30 miles an hour on a reasonably straight country lane.
The former paragraph was a precursor to what I observe about driving in Spain. There are a few main rules. 1. A pedestrian crossing is merely a point of negotiation between the driver and pedestrian, if the pedestrian doesn't risk life and limb by placing at least a foot...or preferably launching into a walk across the crossing, then you can't expect a driver to stop. 2. Mind reading is a must for driver and pedestrian alike, it seems that indicators are an optional extra on a Spanish car or it's the usage which is optional in a Spanish driving test. 3. The pedestrian is always wrong. 4. You must slow down at any hazard albeit a broken down vehicle to see if the car is older or younger than yours in case you find yourself in a similar predicament, 5. Slow down to a crawl when you see an accident so that you can relate every gory detail when you get home. 6. Give way to no-one.
Also there is parking. Well I say parking, cars are very often parked in haste which often makes them appear abandoned. They park in taxi lanes, bus stops, motorbike bays, no parking lines, car park entries and emergency vehicle parking spaces.
The Policia Local, have specific responsibility for policing vehicle offences. They are not so considerate (yes considerate) as the UK traffic Wardens, who merely place a ticket on your windscreens and expect you to pay the fine and not to do it again. The Policia local walk along street be street identifying lawbreakers, they contact the Grua (literally means crane but we would refer to as a pick up truck.) The grua rubs his hands and comes down picking up car after car and taking them to the impound. This is often in one of the most inaccessible places outside of town and likely to cost 20 to 30 euros by taxi to get there. The Policia write out a ticket and stick it to the pavement where the car was, which is how the driver knows whats happened to his car when he returns. He then has to get a taxi to the impound, 30 euros, pay the grua for his time and storage say 100 euros or more, then he has to go to the bank and pay his fine 80 euros or more. Now when you think car parking for a few hours is never much more than 5 euros, so why do they do it in the first place....beats me!
Roundabouts are relatively new in Spain. Each roundabout in general having two lanes with each interlinking road having two lanes also. Now we know in the UK that if you are going to exit the roundabout at the first exit, you stay on the left (in Spain on the right). And if you are going straight ahead, you start in the outside lane moving to the inside lane when you have passed the first exit and so forth until you exit with your car.
Near La Cala there is a roundabout with quite a few exits. If you are driving from la Cala in the direction of Finestrat you approach the roundabout and have the following exit options. First exit for a Garage and small industrial estate, second exit will take you onwards to Finestrat, third exit will take you to La Marina shopping centre Mercadona and Lidl. The fourth exit will take you to Carrefour hypermarket, and the 5th exit means you have done a complete circuit and heading back to la Cala.
Just to complicate matters next to the road leading from La Cala is a slip road from the N332 road, this enters the roundabout only it is not an exit. So, each approaching road has two lanes of traffic, some cars indicating, most not, the ones on the left intend to exit right before the person to his right who is going to an exit further round the roundabout. The driver on the right is not sure where the driver on the left is going so he slows right down, by slowing down the driver on the slip road sees an opportunity and enters the roundabout making the car on the right break, the car on the left can't move right, because the car from the slip road has now blocked the exit, so the car on the left blows his horn at the car from the slip road, the car on the right blows his horn at both of them and the cars behind all of them blow their horns in frustration.
The roundabout is now getting congested, and all lanes are backing up. Eventually this mayhem attracts the attention of either the Guardia Civil or the Policia Local, who then come along with whistles in mouths and start to direct the traffic. They use the whistle and hand gestures to talk to the driver, so "you get over here" comes out has 'whistle, whistle whistle whistle whistle' and his finger points to where he wants the driver to go. Its remarkable, and who knows maybe a hang over from the Franco days, but they are incredibly obedient to the police.
After a short while the policia bring back some element of normality to the scene and they stay there until they think the traffic is running smoothly and then leave. But we all know they will be back in a couple of hours as patience snaps once more and mayhem resumes.
And my final observation is driving on the Auto pista (motorway). I am not saying the Spanish are particularly mean, but just as they are prepared as a group of 6 to sit in a restaurant with one cup of coffee, they equally dislike paying toll money. There are the B roads which are free and the toll roads which are reasonable considering car tax is about 50 euros a year on average.
The main road south is the EP7 and if you are picking people up from the airport this is the road usually used. I join it at Villajoyosa about 5 kilometers from home and the toll all the way to El Compello is 2 euros and 5 cents, so not too bad at all. Once you clear the toll, traffic joins from the N332 (these are the drivers who wish to avoid the toll). At this stage it is about 2 kilometers to the St Joan tunnel, which merely goes under the village of St Joan. Way in advance of the tunnel there are signs warning that the speed limit is 80 kms an hour and that speed is monitored by radar. I know this to be true because a couple of friends have received speeding tickets. I always slow down to 80 and as instructed put on my dipped headlights, failure to do so can also incur a fine. However, the amount of Spanish drivers who come up close behind you and flash their lights for you to move over is incredible. They are usually short men looking through the gap in the steering wheel of a large car, I always oblige and move...after all who am I to deprive the Spanish Police coffers of well-earned fine money.
As my friend Dave once observed as i gave him a lift to la Cala from the airport..."The trouble with the Spanish is they moved from the Donkey to the car too quickly..."
The former paragraph was a precursor to what I observe about driving in Spain. There are a few main rules. 1. A pedestrian crossing is merely a point of negotiation between the driver and pedestrian, if the pedestrian doesn't risk life and limb by placing at least a foot...or preferably launching into a walk across the crossing, then you can't expect a driver to stop. 2. Mind reading is a must for driver and pedestrian alike, it seems that indicators are an optional extra on a Spanish car or it's the usage which is optional in a Spanish driving test. 3. The pedestrian is always wrong. 4. You must slow down at any hazard albeit a broken down vehicle to see if the car is older or younger than yours in case you find yourself in a similar predicament, 5. Slow down to a crawl when you see an accident so that you can relate every gory detail when you get home. 6. Give way to no-one.
Also there is parking. Well I say parking, cars are very often parked in haste which often makes them appear abandoned. They park in taxi lanes, bus stops, motorbike bays, no parking lines, car park entries and emergency vehicle parking spaces.
The Policia Local, have specific responsibility for policing vehicle offences. They are not so considerate (yes considerate) as the UK traffic Wardens, who merely place a ticket on your windscreens and expect you to pay the fine and not to do it again. The Policia local walk along street be street identifying lawbreakers, they contact the Grua (literally means crane but we would refer to as a pick up truck.) The grua rubs his hands and comes down picking up car after car and taking them to the impound. This is often in one of the most inaccessible places outside of town and likely to cost 20 to 30 euros by taxi to get there. The Policia write out a ticket and stick it to the pavement where the car was, which is how the driver knows whats happened to his car when he returns. He then has to get a taxi to the impound, 30 euros, pay the grua for his time and storage say 100 euros or more, then he has to go to the bank and pay his fine 80 euros or more. Now when you think car parking for a few hours is never much more than 5 euros, so why do they do it in the first place....beats me!
Roundabouts are relatively new in Spain. Each roundabout in general having two lanes with each interlinking road having two lanes also. Now we know in the UK that if you are going to exit the roundabout at the first exit, you stay on the left (in Spain on the right). And if you are going straight ahead, you start in the outside lane moving to the inside lane when you have passed the first exit and so forth until you exit with your car.
Near La Cala there is a roundabout with quite a few exits. If you are driving from la Cala in the direction of Finestrat you approach the roundabout and have the following exit options. First exit for a Garage and small industrial estate, second exit will take you onwards to Finestrat, third exit will take you to La Marina shopping centre Mercadona and Lidl. The fourth exit will take you to Carrefour hypermarket, and the 5th exit means you have done a complete circuit and heading back to la Cala.
Just to complicate matters next to the road leading from La Cala is a slip road from the N332 road, this enters the roundabout only it is not an exit. So, each approaching road has two lanes of traffic, some cars indicating, most not, the ones on the left intend to exit right before the person to his right who is going to an exit further round the roundabout. The driver on the right is not sure where the driver on the left is going so he slows right down, by slowing down the driver on the slip road sees an opportunity and enters the roundabout making the car on the right break, the car on the left can't move right, because the car from the slip road has now blocked the exit, so the car on the left blows his horn at the car from the slip road, the car on the right blows his horn at both of them and the cars behind all of them blow their horns in frustration.
The roundabout is now getting congested, and all lanes are backing up. Eventually this mayhem attracts the attention of either the Guardia Civil or the Policia Local, who then come along with whistles in mouths and start to direct the traffic. They use the whistle and hand gestures to talk to the driver, so "you get over here" comes out has 'whistle, whistle whistle whistle whistle' and his finger points to where he wants the driver to go. Its remarkable, and who knows maybe a hang over from the Franco days, but they are incredibly obedient to the police.
After a short while the policia bring back some element of normality to the scene and they stay there until they think the traffic is running smoothly and then leave. But we all know they will be back in a couple of hours as patience snaps once more and mayhem resumes.
And my final observation is driving on the Auto pista (motorway). I am not saying the Spanish are particularly mean, but just as they are prepared as a group of 6 to sit in a restaurant with one cup of coffee, they equally dislike paying toll money. There are the B roads which are free and the toll roads which are reasonable considering car tax is about 50 euros a year on average.
The main road south is the EP7 and if you are picking people up from the airport this is the road usually used. I join it at Villajoyosa about 5 kilometers from home and the toll all the way to El Compello is 2 euros and 5 cents, so not too bad at all. Once you clear the toll, traffic joins from the N332 (these are the drivers who wish to avoid the toll). At this stage it is about 2 kilometers to the St Joan tunnel, which merely goes under the village of St Joan. Way in advance of the tunnel there are signs warning that the speed limit is 80 kms an hour and that speed is monitored by radar. I know this to be true because a couple of friends have received speeding tickets. I always slow down to 80 and as instructed put on my dipped headlights, failure to do so can also incur a fine. However, the amount of Spanish drivers who come up close behind you and flash their lights for you to move over is incredible. They are usually short men looking through the gap in the steering wheel of a large car, I always oblige and move...after all who am I to deprive the Spanish Police coffers of well-earned fine money.
As my friend Dave once observed as i gave him a lift to la Cala from the airport..."The trouble with the Spanish is they moved from the Donkey to the car too quickly..."
Saturday, 6 September 2008
Lazy days of summer
...Its been a busy month hence not many blogs. We have had many visitors including my son Ian and his mate Gavin. They returned to the UK yesterday and me and his mother are still feeling a bit down about it. But as we are taking a short trip to the UK soon to sort a certain problem out, we will see him again soon.
The grim reaper (Roy) and his wife Jennifer are back in town, so we have alerted the emergency services, we expect an increase in accidents for a least a month, in fact Roy, if you remember, was the guy who swallowed some citronella, thinking it was cough medicine and ended up at the hospital. Upon his return here, by bus from the airport I hasten to add (Yorkshire folk like to be careful with money) he found some medicinal phials to do something with, but he forgot what he had to use them for and how. So he decided to open one (yes I know I asked why too...but we are talking about Roy here and he is just too curious I suppose). At the top of the phial there is an indent in the glass which suggests if you twist it, it will make a clean break and allow the fluid inside to drain out. So he pinched the glass with fore finger and thumb, twisted and consequently took a major chunk of skin out of his finger. A little bit of self first aid only just stopped Roy from a second trip to the Marina baixa hospital. So as this was day 2 of his holidays I am expecting quite a bit of material before Roy returns to Blighty.
Ian and Gavin were here for 12 days, I picked them up from the airport and they arrived planted their suitcases in the bedroom and then proceeded to act like locusts, eating and drinking everything that fell in their path. As they emerged on to the balcony Ange said as a precaution, be careful not to bounce up and down on the sun loungers as the sun has made them a little brittle and they are likely to crack. Gavin replied as sharp as a knife "Dam and I was just saying to Ian that lets get on the balcony soon so we can bounce up and down on those sun loungers". I just knew it was going to one of those weeks.
At the same time, Pete's sister was here with husband Phil, daughter Katey and friend Emily. The first thing we arranged was a beach party. The Police are not keen on people drinking on the beach, so one has to be a little careful and ensure and beer or wine isn't being openly consumed. So we all had cool boxes and we took a collapsible table. We were joined by Patrick and Neil, and the evening was excellent and we all perhaps had one over the 8, but a good start to the 12 or so days everyone would be here.
On the last evening the boys were here we went into the Old Town and had a Chinese meal. We all had the menu of the day, which was spring rolls for the 2 lads, hot and sour soup for me and a Chinese salad for Ange, main course, Ian had spicy beef, Gavin had chicken, Ange and i had hot and spicy pork, we all had rice, we each had half a bottle of house white wine. and for desert Ange and I had creme caramel, Gavin had ice cream, and Ian a coffee. Total bill 23Euros for the lot of us. You can't beat that.
We left the Chinese and moved on to Tiaras. Tiaras is owned by Steve and Wilf. Steve also works for one of the holiday companies and a meeting and greeting rep. Tiaras is a very small cabaret bar, run by two gay lads but not aimed specifically at a gay market. Wilf does a drag show, but they also have guest artists, and on this particular night Andrea was doing her Cher and Madonna tribute. But Wilf put his frock on and stood at the door touting for passing custom. He had a way with words...."Oh there are a couple coming up here now I will lure them in...." and as they passed "....well we don't need your type in here anyway.." all in the best possible taste of course...
Benidorm is, at the moment light on English tourists and just about to lose the Spanish tourists as the last few spend this last weekend before school starts again, grabbing the last opportunity for some sun. So the bars are quiet, and it does effect the mood of the barmen who spend more time doing nothing which in turn makes their day seem longer. But each day in the late afternoon, Pedro the waiter at the Marina bar, arrives in the Marina 'car' which you can hear way in advance...blue smoke puffing out of the exhaust, and an odd screeching noise as if the fan belt is slipping. He parks the car on the ramp to the next door apartments' car park, and the rest of the waiters come and help him decant the contents. Bottles, carton, packages, and boxes emerge and all disappear into the bar. Pedro then gets back in the car and you can follow the plume of burning oil all the way to the general car park.
Jesus meanwhile has been eating his afternoon meal at the bar, Antonio and Salvador holding the fort whilst he dines. Eventually Jesus emerges replete, with tray, scowl and utters those immortal words "bloody Spaneesh.........they spend nothing"...
The grim reaper (Roy) and his wife Jennifer are back in town, so we have alerted the emergency services, we expect an increase in accidents for a least a month, in fact Roy, if you remember, was the guy who swallowed some citronella, thinking it was cough medicine and ended up at the hospital. Upon his return here, by bus from the airport I hasten to add (Yorkshire folk like to be careful with money) he found some medicinal phials to do something with, but he forgot what he had to use them for and how. So he decided to open one (yes I know I asked why too...but we are talking about Roy here and he is just too curious I suppose). At the top of the phial there is an indent in the glass which suggests if you twist it, it will make a clean break and allow the fluid inside to drain out. So he pinched the glass with fore finger and thumb, twisted and consequently took a major chunk of skin out of his finger. A little bit of self first aid only just stopped Roy from a second trip to the Marina baixa hospital. So as this was day 2 of his holidays I am expecting quite a bit of material before Roy returns to Blighty.
Ian and Gavin were here for 12 days, I picked them up from the airport and they arrived planted their suitcases in the bedroom and then proceeded to act like locusts, eating and drinking everything that fell in their path. As they emerged on to the balcony Ange said as a precaution, be careful not to bounce up and down on the sun loungers as the sun has made them a little brittle and they are likely to crack. Gavin replied as sharp as a knife "Dam and I was just saying to Ian that lets get on the balcony soon so we can bounce up and down on those sun loungers". I just knew it was going to one of those weeks.
At the same time, Pete's sister was here with husband Phil, daughter Katey and friend Emily. The first thing we arranged was a beach party. The Police are not keen on people drinking on the beach, so one has to be a little careful and ensure and beer or wine isn't being openly consumed. So we all had cool boxes and we took a collapsible table. We were joined by Patrick and Neil, and the evening was excellent and we all perhaps had one over the 8, but a good start to the 12 or so days everyone would be here.
On the last evening the boys were here we went into the Old Town and had a Chinese meal. We all had the menu of the day, which was spring rolls for the 2 lads, hot and sour soup for me and a Chinese salad for Ange, main course, Ian had spicy beef, Gavin had chicken, Ange and i had hot and spicy pork, we all had rice, we each had half a bottle of house white wine. and for desert Ange and I had creme caramel, Gavin had ice cream, and Ian a coffee. Total bill 23Euros for the lot of us. You can't beat that.
We left the Chinese and moved on to Tiaras. Tiaras is owned by Steve and Wilf. Steve also works for one of the holiday companies and a meeting and greeting rep. Tiaras is a very small cabaret bar, run by two gay lads but not aimed specifically at a gay market. Wilf does a drag show, but they also have guest artists, and on this particular night Andrea was doing her Cher and Madonna tribute. But Wilf put his frock on and stood at the door touting for passing custom. He had a way with words...."Oh there are a couple coming up here now I will lure them in...." and as they passed "....well we don't need your type in here anyway.." all in the best possible taste of course...
Benidorm is, at the moment light on English tourists and just about to lose the Spanish tourists as the last few spend this last weekend before school starts again, grabbing the last opportunity for some sun. So the bars are quiet, and it does effect the mood of the barmen who spend more time doing nothing which in turn makes their day seem longer. But each day in the late afternoon, Pedro the waiter at the Marina bar, arrives in the Marina 'car' which you can hear way in advance...blue smoke puffing out of the exhaust, and an odd screeching noise as if the fan belt is slipping. He parks the car on the ramp to the next door apartments' car park, and the rest of the waiters come and help him decant the contents. Bottles, carton, packages, and boxes emerge and all disappear into the bar. Pedro then gets back in the car and you can follow the plume of burning oil all the way to the general car park.
Jesus meanwhile has been eating his afternoon meal at the bar, Antonio and Salvador holding the fort whilst he dines. Eventually Jesus emerges replete, with tray, scowl and utters those immortal words "bloody Spaneesh.........they spend nothing"...
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