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....

Forget last year's lobster bring on the Tuna

...Sunny days abound in La Cala, clear blue skies and temperatures in the high 30 degree C. As it is July it is my Wife Angela's birthday. As she is working on her birthday we decided to celebrate the day before. I didn't tell her the arrangements but I had organised a meal for 5 at a restaurant called Al Fresco in the village of Finestrat. Dave and Pete were invited and Dave's brother Mike who is staying with them for a week's holiday.

The trip entailed a bus ride, because none of us wanted to drive, knowing that there would be plenty of alcohol involved in such a day's outing. We arranged to meet at the bus stop at 1215, and that is all Ange knew, she didn't know where we were gpoing or where we were eating. She didn't even twig when we got on the bus. The bus stops right in the centre of Finestrat and as we were not eating until 2.30 pm, we decided to call in another bar/restaurant for pre-lunch drinks. This bar is called Moli dos, because there is a Moli uno.

Now as I have been having problems with my glucose readings being very high, I decided to stop drinking mahou and instead I started drinking Tinto de Verano, which is red wine and casera (unsweetened lemonade) this had been successful along with other measures such as cutting down on carbo-hydrates and not eating too late in the day. So my reading which were formerly anything up 14 in a morning, were now down to between 6 and 7 which is near perfect. But, today was a free for all and I was not going to be as good as I formerly had been. So I started with a pint of Amstel, followed by another. Dave and Michael joined me, Pete had a San Miguel and Ange a diet coke (she can't drink until she has eaten otherwise she is fit for nothing later).

Once we had our aperatife, we wandered along to Al Fresco. We were early but as we were the only ones there the restrauteur was more than happy for us to dine early. The waitress, who apartently was from Moldovia, scurried around to set us a table outside in the shade, whilst Jim the owner and Chef took our drinks order. He said "Do you all like prawns....?" to which I answered "..Is the Pope Catholic?" ... "Ah good I will prepare a few for you whilxst you decide on what you want to eat..." he said with some glee. The Menu del Dia was very good and we all wanted items from that. I and 4 others had the tuna mixed salad ad Ange had cerano ham and melon. For the main course I and Dave had minute steak, chips and roast vegetables, Pete and Mike had chicken stir fry and Ange had fresh tuna steak. We had ordered a bottle of white wine, which was quickly followed by another and then a third, Mike drank pints of beer.

From a diabetic point of view then came the dilemma, Pinapple or Stawberry cream cake, no contest, I had the strawberry cream cake along with the other three lads and Ange had the pinapple. In the meantime, Jim the owner heard us talking about Ange's birthday and treated us to a bottle of bubbly, very generous....and he brought a desert wine for us with the sweet.

We finally finished with cafe cortado for Pete and Cafe con leche for the rest of us.

One of the local Scots population (another guy called Jim) came and sat at the next table and we all struck up a conversation. He told us he had just left his pool and decided to take his dog for a walk and call by for a coffee. He was extolling the virtues of living in Finestrat village as opposed to Benidorm. We all prefer not to live in Benidorm, it is far too noisy and in certain parts can be rowdy at this time of year when the British tourists are unleashed from 'Nanny' Britain, who dictates to the mass populus what and when they must drink. So when they are allowed out into a liberal country which is completely in tune with sensible alcohol usage and therefore has it available cheaply and widely, they tend to be like children in a sweet shop and run amock. In the sleepy villages where we socialise, we savour the wine, drink sensible quantities slowly over long periods rather than drink like the next drink could be the last. During this conversation Jim the Owner/Chef asked if he could join us for a drink, which we welcomed (he was a wonderful host). He told us of his origins and how he likes to run his restaurant, and he clearly feels inhibited with menus, because he said if we liked anything in particular next time to pre-warn him and he would endeavour to do it.

After such a great afternoon it was time to get our bill and move on. Jim promptly did some reckoning in his head and said lets call it 55 Euros, I gave him 60 and said lets call that a deal. He said. "that's far too generous" I said "We are extremely happy with the food service and entertainment, we are more than happy to pay 60 euros", "Then" he replied. "...you can have another bottle of wine and a pint." So we sat there for a little longer until it was finally time to catch the 4 pm bus.

Oops! No bus. The last bus was at 1 pm. So we went into "The Font", another bar, and had a drink whilst we considered a taxi or two. The Spanish waiter who said "Call me 007, James Bond" for some reason best known to himself, kindly rang for 2 taxis. In no time at all we were driving back down to La Cala and Marina bar bound for a few more drinks.

In the bar was Garth and Veronia, Sheila was also with them and there were spare seats to the side so we sat in those. Bob, John and Anne were at another table we couldn't quite fit around and in time they joined us as did Michelle and her son Connor, Rick and Joanne (Joanne was here briefly for a hen party) and as the evening went by Patrick also joined us. The evening transpired to be a major party atmosphere which was good for us all but specifically for Ange as it was her birthday. At one point Pepi put on the record "Compleanos felis" or happy birthday and we all sang to her. In general it was a fantastic day and the Al Fresco restaurant in Finestrat should be at the top of everyone's list of favourite places to dine.

I emailed Laurence the following day in response to an email I received from him. He and Tony are currently in the UK. I explained how nice the meal was and the cost, he and Tony joined us last year. He replied "55 Euros!!!" ... "It was that each last year!" ... I didn't reply, but I was well aware that if I made the same mistake as last year in going to a posh place, I would never hear the last of it, but if I am honest, the 55 Euros we paid this year was far better value, far better in flavour and quality...and a fifth of the price... and Ange merely swapped the lobster for tuna...A lesson learned....

San Juan and a long summer...

,,,San Juan has been and gone. What a great night though! Everyone I can think of was there, at least 40 people in our group. There they are on the left the mottley crew.

I have to say a great big thank you to everyone who brought food and drink, and especially Lee and Ben from the Bodega Bar in Finestrat, what generous guys!

Everyone I spoke to had the best time ever despite the rather short-sighted stance of Finestrat Council, who seem not to recognise the importance to the local economy of this event. No matter, the people there made the evening a great success and lets make next year even better.

...Lots have been happening. But unfortunately it's been a bad year for my wife and I, I lost my Dad in January and Angela lost her Mum only a couple of weeks ago, our son Ian two grandparents. But life goes on and back here in La Cala that's what its been doing.

...I had a spot of trouble with the Policia Locale the other day, or El Plod as I affectionately call them. I was on my way to Benidorm in the car. I tend to drive along the bay and up the back road past the incomplete hotel to get on to the N332 road. As I turned the corner by the side of the hotel, the car in front was doing 5 miles an hour, and I was a bit late, so I accelerated and overtook him, but as I did so El Plod in a landrover was on the oncoming side, witnessed my move and drove as to block my side of the road so I had to stop. In all such circumstances every Brit is likely to react the same way and say to the Policeman "hablas inglese" to which I got the response "No inglese Espanol solo". He wasn't going to make it easy clearly. He made me open the hatchback, then asked for my documents. In Spain you have to carry your driving licence, Insurance documents and a recept proving payment of the policy, your passport, a SUMA receipt (local Tax). And you must be in possession of two triangles, two safety vests, a full set of bulbs for the lights and if you wear specs a spare pair. An additional offence too is driving with incorrect footweat aka sandals. I was very worried because I could be facing a 60 to 100 euro fine I think he sensed my anguish. The Policeman was stern and studied my passport in fine detail. He told me in Spanish it is an offence to drive fast in a built up area. I said "lo ciento" meaning 'I am sorry' and he then said "OK drive slowly" and let me go. Phew....very lucky!

...The Marina Bar continues to be the base for meeting most of my friends. Sundays often end up as a major social meeting where we tend to fill the bar up much to the delight of Pepi and Antonio the owners. At this time of year there is a market all the way around the bay. The stall holders sell bric-a-brac, they do henna tattoos, braid hair, sell jewelry and cheap watches etc. On the first day it should have started a crowd of potential stall holders met on the beach front. There was a council official there, but the tone seemed to get a little heated and the meeting dispelled. The market didn't set up that night or for several nights after that. I asked Antonio what the problem might be. "I doan know, eeet seeems to bee to do wid de contact and licences...eeet may start next week or August....I doan know..." The next time I went to the bar Antonio was putting the extra tables and chairs out, they are allowed to put 8 tables on the pavement because the close the road from 6pm. "Bobbie..." he exclaimed, "De market ees sytarting tonigh" and sure enough the council officials came and installed the barriers to stop cars using the road, and the stall holders started to construct their stalls. I like this time, it injects a strong holiday atmosphere, and people seem to come from nowhere and the bars become busy once again.

Unfortunately the music has been stopped by the Police. The rumour is that another bar owner had his music stopped due to there being no licence, so he placed a denuncia (denouncement) with the Police who had to do the same to all the other bars. This meant Andrea had to stop singing at La Cala Cala and Cheryl at the Marina bar. Andrea however managed to get another gig at a bar just over the border in La Cala de Villajoyose, only a couple of hundred yards away, and they were allowed to play music. So on a Friday and Saturday Andrea takes some trade from the Marina and La Cala Cala. But not all the Villajoyosa residents are happy with the situation and I heard that on saturday night someone threw a bucket of water over andrea as she sang from one of the aprtments above....as you can imagine she was not very happy.

...Anyway the summer sees a lot of the long-term Brits migrate back to blighty, because many find it too hot here in July and August. Jeremy and Colin, Trevor and Andrew, Gary and Mike, and sundry others have departed, it was a bigger job for Laurence and Tony, they had to reposition their yacht for the summer, they sailed it back to Denia. Then they had to pack up their home before setting off to the south of England. But here there are still a hand full of us die hards who will keep the local watering hole afloat. We have new members to our group such as Michelle (Shell) and Jonathon, who no doubt you will get to know as time goes on.

Hopefully nothing tragic will drive my wife and I back to the UK unexpectedly, and I can begin to blog in earnest once more.

Watch this space......I have new subjects on whom to blog.................

Avast there me hearties, anyone interested in earning a few euro?

....I have been on Laurence and Tony's yacht again. That is the boat to the left. They have moved it for summer down to Altea, which makes it far more accessible. The first sail that I had I was scared beyond belief, the yacht when in full sail, especially with Laurence steering it, tends to be between a 45 and 60 degrees angle. The first time I was on the side nearest to the sea, but this time I managed to scramble to the other side and felt merely petrified.

We had been very kindly invited by Laurence and Tony when they realised my brother and sister in law, Dave and Linda were here on holiday. They were quite delighted at being invited, but the delight faded fairly quickly as we set sail. Laurence was at the helm and keeping a careful eye on the wind speed. "We don't want winds higher than 25 notts." he stated as we entered the open sea and the boat was bobbing like a cork in a bottle. "I'm going to head in the direction of Mascarat, where we should be able to drop anchor and have some lunch" he said positively. But I could see that the motion of the boat was somewhat more erratic than last time. and the waves were high creating what we sailors call 'white horses' or the white wave tops as they crash over to the sea again. This is a strong indication of rough sea conditions.

Dave and Linda were very quiet, in fact Linda was looking somewhat green. Laurence noticed that and decided against his original direction. "....the wind is up to 23 notts here, I think we will turn round and head for the lighthouse where we can get more shelter..." he concluded. "besides if we turned around at Mascarat, the tide and wind would make it a very rough turn"...."I am all for a non rough turn Laurence" I shouted just in case he was in any doubt. We set off in the direction of the lighthouse which sits above Albir beach. As we were getting close to the sheltered bay, Laurenced noticed a berth along side a buoy, which is placed there specifically for yachts and boats to moor at. Unfortunately a motor cruiser was too quick for us and made it to the last buoy. So Laurence and Tony decided that we would have to drop anchor. With the sail down and the anchor dropped, I went into the cabin with Laurence to sort out lunch. We had brought some cheese and ham and some red and white wine, the lads provided bread tortilla more wine and other bits and pieces. Once we had the food on deck we all assembled around the table, But Linda was not looking well at all. She moved away from the food and to the stern of the yacht. The rest of us tucked inot a very fine lunch, after which Laurence decided to return to Altea harbour he felt it only fair for Linda's sake. As we neared the harbour and the sea calmed, Linda was once again perky and far more at ease. So whilst it was extremely kind of the lads to invite us, I think the experience was a little to rough for Linda. My son and best friends are here on Saturday for a week and we are also going sailing....I will report back.

Although I am a retired brit on the Costa Blanca, I do need to earn some money to make ends meet. So my wife and I have got involved in a venture for which Ange is now a business consultant and I just help her to run it. I don't get a wage but ange does and that will help to pay for the extras in life. Its called network marketing. To give you an example of a kind of network marketing there is the sale of a product and the recruitment of other consultants. And before you start saying "Oh that is pyramid selling" well it isn't. There are a range of products and to become a consultant you need 5 sales, and the second objective is to recruit 3 people. Their aim is to each sell 5 products and recruit 3 people. With each sale from yourself down the chain to the last Consultant you earn commission on all they sell. If your chain of consultants grow so does your commission. Now, Bill Clinton is on YouTube extolling the virtues of Network marketing because of the positive effects on the US economy, equally Tony Blair is a keen advocate of this form of marketing. Donald Trump no less considers it to be one of the most important moves in sales in the recnt past and also supports it privately and publicly. 'The Times' has written major articles about the company we are involved with particularly as being a sound company with a very positive future. So why isn't everyone doing it, quite frankly I don't know why. If you were to buy a peice of franchise called 'Burger King' you would be expected to pay many thousands of pounds/eurose just for the franchise. Then there is stock to buy, staff to employ and custom to attract. Further more there are random inspections from the parent company who tend to shut down transgressors of hygene processes and employment terms etc. As for our kind of Franchise, well, it has cost us 350 euros, and such is the confidence that we will succeed we have a certificated guarantee that if we don't make 10 times that amount in one year we will get our money back. As for stock, well if we are going to sell the products it is a good thing to own one each of the range. So by buying all the products we get commission on the sales to ourselves, we end up with products to demonstrate to potential customers and the use of goods which are better than most of its rivals. Lets compare this with working for an employer. You get a static salary per month, you may increase sales with your hard work and the boss gets it, you retire with no pension unless you have paid some of your salary into a private pension scheme and the state pension. Well I get the state pension, and although I may retire, my income from network marketing continues even if I am no longer active, because the people I have recruited are still selling things and paying me a commission. "Whats the catch" people say to me. "The catch is" I answer, "you only get out equal to what you put in. It is self motivation." You won't have a boss urging you on, who also won't be there to encourage you, but equally he won't be taking all the credit from your sales. So the choices for employment in Spain, work for 5 euros an hour (often illegally) and therefore work long hours, buy a business and invest all of our savings on the risk of thriving in a very poor economy, or investing a small amount of money, refundable if you stick to the principles of networkl marketing but fail to make 10 times as much money in a year, with no ceiling on the amount you can earn....in my book this is a no-brainer...what is there to loose. If any of you out there in Benidorm and around, want to come and share some excellent opportunities to make serious income, get in touch with me via this blog and I will take you on the same journey...

Snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.....

....Sometimes the actions of Spanish Councils amaze the most cynical ex-pat. These are recessionary days when the pound is worth next to nothing against the Euro and rents which in 2005 were equal to £450 are now closer to £700. Benidorm is one of Spains most popular resorts amongst the British, Dutch, German and Norwegian tourists so is it resting on it laurels expecting the loyalty of their erstwhile foreign guests.

The originator of the resort worked hard and managed to gain the support of none other than General franco in allowing people to sunbathe in bikinis on the Poniente and levante beaches against the will of the Catholic church. He ensured that the layout of the high rise apartment blocks and hotel blocks enabled most balconies to receive sun for a few hours every day. The resort has also been noted for good transportation, a bus ride for 1 stop or a hundred stops in benisdorm will cost your 1 euro 20cents, or for 10 euros the cost drop to less than 1 euro a trip.

The Poniente beach rennovation should be complete this year, making it a modern clean and pedestrian friendly paseo. There are life guards every few hundred yards along the three major beaches in the resort, levante in the New town, Poniente south of the Old Town and La Cala at Finestrat. Despite all this the resort and the Costas in general have taken at least a 17% reduction in occupancy so far this year and the final toll could be worse. Benidorm and Finestrat Mayors are demonstrating their absolute ignorance of basic financial planning.

Imagine the amazement amongst the local Spanish and ex-pats communities when the Benidorm mayor in his wisdom announced new measures regarding the usage of the beach. Firstly, no alcohol will be allowed on the beach at all and offenders will have their alcohol confiscated and destroyed. next, children will no longer be able to build sandcastles or dig in the sand generally, next, people must be off the beach by midnight and not to return before 6 am. and finally it will be an offence to urinate in the sea. Now I can maybe go along with the alcohol law, but it seems a bit nanny state, the time embargo is maybe sensible in that it will deter hobos from sleeping on the beach and allow the council workers time to comb the beach each morning to make it tidy for the beach users. But, as Benidorm claims to be family friendly, I am staggered that kids will not be allowed to use a bucket and spade any more. What is the knock-on effect? Well, the shops will no longer be able to sell bucket and spades, and I would bet that every child who steps on to a beach in benidorm won't bring them to benidorm, they will buy them in resort. Next year when the brochures come out the tourists with children will steer clear of Benidorm, because a day on the beach is a cheap day out for families, but with nodigging allowed there are going to be a lot of bored children. And as for urinating in the sea! Right hands up those of you who don't know someone who has done that, and how on Earth are the 'beach police' going to enfore that one? Well my theory is, the law enforcers will be lying on the beach mingling with the tourists and have a pair of binoculars, and will scan the the faces of all those in the sea and if any one looks relieved they will be instantly knicked and taken to El plod station.....

So, being armed with this infinately flawed plan destined to cost Benidorm oodles of dosh in lost tourism, enter the fray Finestrat council! Now here we have a Council, that was reported to be in the top ten richest Spanish councils last year, and it now reports that it is skint. The outgoing Mayor seems to be being blamed, but noone can account from the riches to rags position of the council. What does Finestrat rely on? Tourism. When do the tourists like to come? As well as June, July and August because of the sun, there are one or two other events which make the local businesses take on extra staff and stock up with food drink and sundry beach equipment, the fiesta of San Juan being the premier evening in the La Cala de Finestrat diary. So how does the Mayor of Finestrat resolve the financial woes of Finestrat council? He cancelled every fiesta this year with the exception of one saints day in August which is restricted to the village in the hills. Which means San Juan is cancelled - no fireworks, no band, probably no life guard, no parade. Having attended the last four San juan fiestas I can absolutely state that there are thousands of people on the beach, they all have cool boxes stuffed with food bought in the local shops, the local shops employ local people to sell their goods, the local bars have extra chairs on the pavement to cope with the high demand and a blind eye is turned to the anti alcohol and curfew times on the beach. Many foreign tourists will have booked accommodation and transpot last year to ensure they get her for the celebration. So what will their reaction be when there is absolutely no council support for this fiesta? Well I am no tourism specialist, but I guess next years bookings will be down, which mean less money in accommodation, less sales in the shops and bars, less council revenue from taxes. It seems that the ex-pat population in both Finestrat and Villajoyosa is significant and they are entitled to vote in local election and what I am already hearing tells me that the mayors of both towns can no longer depend on the vote of the British ex-pats. So with the emancio building in such a state of disrepair that it could fall down at any time (this is Finestrats responsibility) and the eyesore of a building the Gran Magic Atrium beach still unfinished and unlikely ever to be finished (Villajoyosa responsibility) and the Finestrat brainwave to suspend all fiestas, I think the councils are going into self destruct.

Still, it should be a lot easier to get a beer in the marina bar this year........

The flying dutchman......

...Some days the Marina bar is full yet there is no-one to talk to. These are the days when people watching comes into its own. One such day occurred last week. My wife had gone to England for her mum's birthday, so at my usual time I went down to the bar. I found a good seat in the sun, a good view of the beach and the pavement which runs past the bar. The place was packed. To my left on the row in front of me were two Dutch couples, right in front of me next to a palm tree was another Dutch man on his own, to my right a group of German tourists had arrived and the waiters were meeting themselves coming backwards it was so busy.

I couldn't really understand much of what was being said around me until Peter came along. Peter is an Englishman and he like the odd drink - 7, 9, 11, 13 etc. Anyway, he arrived with two ladies and sat between me and the Duch foursome. Peter has a deep somerset accent and linked with a few beers it turns a little into a drawl or slur, and his way of speaking Spanish is to growl in a Spanish accent, not exactly saying anything, but I think the waiters interpret him by his body language. Whatever he intended the end result was him receiving a pint of Spanish lager.

The Dutch guys on the next table were intrigued with his behaviour. "Are you English?" one asked him "Yer, oi 'am" he replied "And werm you from?" he asked of them. "We are from the Netherlands" From then on they tended to speak in football team names, Ajax, Manchester United, Barcelona...well thats what it sounded like from where I am. "The man next to the palm tree behind you supports manchester United and he is Dutch too" said the first Dutchman. The other man nodded in acknowledgement of the reference. Now every now and then when Peter wanted a drink he would just shout out in a very loud deep gutteral drawl "heeeeeeeey peeeedrrrrrrrro mi amingo" and Pedro where ever he was would shout back "soon Pedro two, soon" (Pedro being Spanish for peter) meaning he is currently engaged and would come as soon as possible. But amongst the four German tourists to my left was a lady who clearly took exception to peter's behaviour because every time he did it she commented in a lound exclamation "gottenhimmel!" and he managed to catch her out every time she never saw it coming.

In the meantime a couple of smart looking Spanish guys had sat in front of me to the left they were maybe in their 30s, but effectively on a neighbouring table to peter. They too were mesmerised with the antics of Peter, who by this time had been joined by two young girls, if not teenagers only in their very early 20s. I think that was the real reason the Spanish lads chose their seats. But Peter was clearly known to the girls who seemed to have come specially to see him. I could hear them asking about his wife and daughter (I don't know this as a fact but think he may be estranged from his wife). At this stage Peter, who is clearly proud to be associated with the two girls is getting louder, and as the Dutch guys have had a few too now, they are laughing with him when he plays to the crowd. Meanwhile after Peter's latest "heeeeeeeeey peeeeeedddddrrrrro mi amigo" and the now associated "Gottenhimmel",happened as Pedro walks past the two Spanish lads who said something to pedro, the only word I caught was ".....culo" which is Spanish for Bottom, so you can make of that as you see fit, but it made Pedro giggle. There was a definite unease in general about Peter's behaviour, but fortunately he said to the two young ladies, "I am going to pay my bill now" and he made his way to the bar. Coincidentally, just as he had gone into the bar two Guardia Civil officers came into the bar. I am fairly certain they came for a free drink, but I do think others around thought they were arriving to sort Peter out. But it was merely a coincidence. The original ladies Peter arrived with had spent their time talking to the dutch foursome and only drank water, but left before Peter. Peter left with the two young ladies who joined him earlier.

I thought the entertainment had concluded, but you may remember the Dutch man sat next to the palm tree. I hadn't taken much notice of him as he was very quiet and seemed to be having a drink taking in the sun, but as he stood up to go to the Toilet, he had a very steady swagger, and on his table was evidence of a couple of beers and an empty bottle of sparkling wine. When he came back to the table he was considerably unsteady and holding his head in his hand once he had managed to land on his chair. He had clearly paid his bill whilst in the bar because he was putting his change in his wallet. He took the last drink of his glass, stood up with a great amount of effort, looked at his countymen, shook his head indicating he may have been a little silly, and set off with will and purpose I guess, to wherever he was staying. Remember the newly tiled wall out side the marina bar between the beach and the bar? Well he clearly didn't because he wanted to move forward, but his legs took him at 45 degrees in the direction of the wall, and when he found it he did a double axel that Torville and Dean would have been extremely proud of and dropped on the sand like a bull elephant being stunned by a poacher.........

......30 minutes earlier I would have predicted something like that happening to Peter, not the Dutchman......

The following Sunday I was in the bar with friends and at the back of the bar sat the same Dutchman, fast asleep with an empty beer glass and an empty bottle of sparkling wine.........

The Butler didn't do it!

...Its getting close to the busy season and the weather has been glorious for days now. It even feels warm at night which is a good sign that Summer is just around the corner. We have had a very busy week and still more to do.

Last night was a great night of entertainment. Paneils my favourite Benidorm Restaurant, held a murder mystery night. The menu fixed at 15 Euros per head which included the meal and the mystery. We got there reasonably prompt at 7 pm with Bob and John (new kids on the block) and Margaret, Andrea's mother. We took our seats and didn't need to look through a menu everyone needed to pre-order so that all the meals could be served at one time (not an easy task for the chef Neil, or the waiters, Patrick and Marge).

Four of us had spare ribs, and Ange had salad nicoise, For the main course 4 of us had Salmon and I had stuffed Pepper which was one of the nicest main courses I have ever had. There was rice, mushrooms, onions, spices and seasoning in the pepper and it sat in a rich tomato sauce which had a dash of chilli to spice it up. And for desert two had peach crumble Margaret had a fruit salad topped with Ice cream and I had sponge cake with dates and walnuts and custard. But we didn't eat in the conventional way. First of all, the Mystery master explained where we were (we were in an art gallery in Benidorm, which was owned by One of the suspects), who we all were and that each table had a suspect on it. I turned out to be the suspect on our table. My name was Ivor Biggun (I know what you are all thinking so I am just moving on swiftly) I was a bisexual gigolo, who was having a liaison with a wealthy widow who had bought me a yacht, a fast car and a luxury penthouse. There were 6 other suspects including her son and daughter, the Galery owner a lady in a wheelchair who was a childhood friend of her daughter, a sculptor and my ex-boyfriend! The suspects were given a script which explained what they were doing up to the discovery of a body. The body being Lady Plenty (my lady friend).

We were then served our starter. After the starter each of the suspects were in turn asked to stand and answer questions from the rest of the people in the room, this relaxed everyone and we were all in good spirits. Then we were given some evidence like a knife, a tram ticket and a cigarette lighter. We were then served our main course. After which the suspects were questioned again in the light of the discovered evidence. Then we were shown a couple of documents, one was lady Plenty's will and the other was a forensic report which showed that the knife which bore the initials of the sculptor, had the dead woman's daughter's fingerprints on. and a blood sample proved to be that of her daughters also. The finger of suspicion was firmly pointing in her direction. Now as well as me being a suspect, as there were 7 suspects but only 6 tables, John was a suspect too. he was the dead woman's son, and his sister was played by an older lady on another table who had certainly gone into character. We were not allowed to lie we had to tell the truth as we knew it. But if we liked to embelish it that was fair game. So when ever I asked her a question she said "Not you again!" and when my 'ex-boyfriend' was asked questions about me he looked at me in a very annoyed manner as though I betrayed him. It is surprising what a few bottles of does to someone acting a role. We then had dessert.

After dessert we had a summary of facts from the Mystery Master and all the suspects had a final quizzing.

The decision time was due, we were each given a sheet of paper, with questions who was the murderer? What was the motive? So everyone gave an answer. After being analysed the Mystery master asked us suspects to stand up. He then explained who didn't do it (a bit like Hercule Poirot) it wasn't the son, he sat down, it wasn't the Gallery owner, she sat down, it wasn't the sculptor, he sat down could it have been the daughter, he said "I will come back to the daughter", Was it the ex-boyfriend, no he sat down, which left me and the daughter standing. He went back to the daughter and it wasn't her either. I hadn't sussed who it wasm but it was me who did it!.....

Speachless for a week

...LAURENCE AND TONY sailed their yacht from its berth to La Cala yesterday, the picture left is when it departed. We were having lunch with Jonathan and Duncan at the time, so the picture is from our balcony. I am looking forward to the next time Ange and I are aboard, it is a great day out on the yacht. Laurence and Tony are perfect hosts.

I knew they were on their way to La Cala when I received a phone call off Laurence. And trust me that phone call was the first one I had had for just over a week. No! that isn't because I am extremely unpopular, its due to me changing mobile telephone providers. I was using 'Vodafone ES', and a few people had transferred from their provider to one called 'Telitec'. It boasts 7 cents a minute to mobiles and landlines in Spain and 5 cents a minute to mobiles and landlines in the UK. There is a connection fee of 14 cents. Texts are also cheaper. So a number of us, maybe as many as 12 decided to do the change and Jonathan took the lead to get us all moved over as smoothly as possible. On the 30th march I sent an email to a lady at Telitec along with all the details they required. In Spain it is now necessary to register pay as you go mobiles which means providing a passport number and an NIE number (a Spanish requirement if you have any financial dealings in Spain). She said it would happen between 7 and 14 days. So in the meantime I was in the UK thinking the new SIM card would arrive during my absence. It didn't. So I left things a while and then Ange got a text from something called 'Hits' which unknown to me at that time is the name of the new network provider. It said in Spanish that her mobile transfer date was the 15th April and the SIM should arrive on the 17th April. I didn't get a message. so I telephoned Telitec on my landline because on the 17th my mobile SIM card from Vodafone was disabled. The lady at Telitec said she would contact the technical guys and they will respond to me. A chap from the technical side rang me and said he had despatched both SIMs on the 15th and it would take a couple of days to arrive. this was on Friday the 17th April. The weekend loomed so I thought it is likely to be Tuesday when it arrives so I decided to wait until then before calling back. On Tuesday 21st it hadn't arrived so I emailed the lady in sales, she replied saying she had forwarded it to a man in the technical department. He eventually rang me and said it had been despateched on the 17th and that I should try the Post Office in VillaJoyosa, the post man may not have been able to deliver it for some reason. The next day I took Andrea with me to the Post Office because she had a note in her mail box saying that she was out when the delivery of her SIM card was made and we needed to sign for the SIMs. When I got to the Post office I quoted a tracking number given to me by the technical guy. They had it and gave me the package.

I got home and inserted the SIM and keyed in the code number. The screen lit up and a message said 'SIM card registration failed'. I was now beginning to lose my temper. So I sent this email:

Dear Madam,

I am not sure that anything else can go wrong. After many phone calls and eventually getting a tracking number from you I discovered my SIM card was in Villajoyosa Post Office. I had not received postal slip in my post box to say that they failed to deliver. So after a long time without phone I eventually got the SIM card today. I came home and inserted the SIM keyed in the PIN number and the message on my screen was your SIM card registration failed. My phone is an Open phone I bought it as such to take my Spanish and UK SIM cards. I have telephoned a lady who told me that someone will call me back and will I be in all day? She added it may be the SIM card....! Great another 4 weeks no doubt.

Bob

You may sense a hint of sarchasm. Nothing much happened during the day and I was told to deal directly with HITS. After speaking with Hits I sent another email:-

Dear madam,

It is now day 26 since I requested a transfer to Telitec. Yesterday I had several telephone calls to the techie, still no phone. He then put me in direct contact with HITs, who asked me all the same questions and took me through the same procedure as the techie until they realised I am neither insane, incompetent or untruthful. They then said they are putting in an 'incident' to vodafone, who supply the signal (strange that I managed to get a signal when with Vodafone which was a week ago today). I telephoned HITS this morning and the lady said there is no solution yet it is in the hands of the technical people and she doesn't know when it will be corrected.

I have lost a week's worth of business and had to buy a vodafone SIM card so that I don't lose any more, and I have now got 2 phone numbers in the system which I was trying to avoid by asking you to transfer my original one.

I think your system is flawed, I think your people are insensitive, and HITS are uncaring. I wish I had never transferred over, and will certainly dissuade others from doing so.

regards

Bob

I got a phone call from the techie almost immediately. He said "I have been reading all the emails and I am doing all I can to resolve your problem" to which I asked "and what is the solution"? He said "Well I have made you another SIM card and I am going to post it to you and it should take 1 to 2 days to arrive" I thought Deja Vu! "Don't post it, I will come to your office in Moraira and get it directly from you I don't trust the mail." He replied "I will be right back I have to go stop the mail". We arranged to meet before 2.pm. So me and Ange drove all the way to Moraira, found the office and met up with the techie. I put the SIM in and I didn't get a signal. "No signal" I said somewhat frustratedly. He said "Let me have it" and he walked outside, then came back and said "You do have a signal, but its a crap signal in here you have to go outside"..... it gave me very little faith that statement!

Sure enough I had a signal. I received a text as soon as I got outside from someone complaining they couldn't contact me. The first person I rang was Jonathan. "Guess where I am ringing you from Jonathan" I said, "where?" "From Telitec at Moraira, I went for my own SIM".

When I got home Jonathan had written a status message on his facebook. "Good news, Bob is mobile again, (he went for his SIM card) Wonder what he has to talk about on facebook now"......

Mixed weather and mixed finances

...You can't live in Spain and fail notice that Spaniards have different habits than us Brits. For example in England you walk up to a Zebra crossing and expect the car to stop as soon as the driver sees you standing there. In Spain it's more like a game of dare. Its easy to spot a tourist, they are the ones who apply the Brit code in the Spanish world and discover that Spanish breaks are quite good and the horns work well too! Equally, we Brits queue up in Banks, bus stops, cash machines, taxi ranks and so on. The Spanish do too, but and this is a big BUT, when it is someone else's turn it's every man for himself. The Spanish love their dogs. Usually small yapping little things. And I am convinced that within a few generations, the Spanish dogs will no longer need legs and evolution will change their genes, because the Spanish carry their dogs around with them. Hence very few buy Geat Danes, Dobermans or St Bernards.

Occasionally you see something funny, yesterday I was having a Mahou in the Marina Bar and I saw a young girl riding a bike along the promonade and tied to her handle bars was a larger than normal dog (which made me think the girl may not be Spanish) everything was looking fine, the girl laughing and the dog loping after. I thought "This could end in tears" I didn't have to wait long. The dog decided it wanted to sniff a palm tree and stopped dead. The bike continued until the extent of the lead was reached, and the bike stopped dead, catapulting the girl from the bike but she was fortunate enough to be at the end of the bay and flew over the wall on to the sand. She wasn't hurt but she was certainly in shock and the dog was coughing due to the strangulation of its dog collar...

...As I am writing this I am able to look through the balcony patio doors at the Mediteranean sea, its a dull day and we are waiting for Neil to call as we are off to Dave and Pete's for lunch. Even thought its dull and rainy, people are still out and about walking across the beach, and this time of year is always prone to unsettled weather on the Costa Blanca. We had thunder storms last night and the temperature is down on what it was 2 days ago. None the less its still nice here and tomorrow or the day after we will be back to glorious sun once more and by June we will be expecting wall-to-wall sun until the end of September.

The former being said, tourists from colder climates such as the UK, the nordic countries, Germany and Holland, tend to feel warmer than us who have become climatised. So as I was sat yesterday in a Shirt and sweater, I could tell non-Spanish and ex-pats from tourists. Initially they sit in the sun, but as it was sunny interspersed, with short downpours, the awning was in and out like a yoyo, and the seat cushions on and off frequently, so they sit part in the sun and part under cover. For them it was warm enough to bask, and they tolerate being wet for a short time, but what they are blissfully unaware of is how cold it gets when the sun goes down combine that with wet and it can be a very miserable trek back to the hotel.

On that theme, trekking that is, Trevor and Andrew were here for Easter and we decided to go to the Chinese restaurant for dinner one night. They had a couple of friends stopping with them who are keen walkers. During the day they had been on a walk from finestrat to Villajoyosa which is around 5 to 7 kilometers. It was a very sunny day and I think they didn't apply much sun cream so when we met up with them they were glowing. We had a superb meal as per usual, and afterwards Andrew needed to use the cash dispenser. He went to the one next to the restaurant. He put in the card and it didn't go all the way in. The screen was blank and unlikely to do anything else. Andrew was concerned, quite rightly that someone could defraud him by finding the card and using it dishonestly. By the time we caught up with him he was trying to grip the card with another card he had. "It's stuck but I can see it" he told us, so we managed to go back and get a couple of tooth-picks, came back and used them like tweezers to grip the card. It dislodged and out it popped, the thing was that it wasn't his card!!! It was someone else's. Andrew decided to take it to the Bank and swap it for his in the morning.

In the meantime it did cross our minds that if they had closed circuit television on the machine, the Policia would see three men close up fiddling with the machine as if they were interfering with it. So we are now waiting to see if we make 'El Policia cinco' on Spanish TV....

All change including a fire

...Well 2009 has so far been a pain. I have spent most of it in the UK, but I now enter a period of stability, subject to a test I had which suggests I am leaking protein from my Kidneys, so yet another tablet looms. My wife Angela is going to the UK in May so hopefully she can liaise about my medication rather than me having to go.

...So what's new in La Cala? Well! Laurence and Tony have moved their Yacht closer to Benidorm, the travelling to Denia was interfering with valuable drinking time. And so far they have many excursions. Each trip is one of discovery, discovering which of their friends are sea sick. I am told that sales of 'Sea legs' and other proprietry medicines for 'Mal de mer' have increased around and about Benidorm. The last trip stunned everyone, with the old salty sea dog Graham doing a technicolour yawn! There is hope for us all yet.

..So more updates, Andrea 'Madonna, Cher & Just a girl' singer has changed venues, she no longer sings in the Marina, but sings three nights a week next door at La Cala Cala bar. Since she moved many of us from the Marina go in to see her and have made friends with more people, both Spanish and British ex-pats.

...The Amancio building is still standing, well teetering is more appropriate. It has been in a state of delapidation for 25 years, but bits are falling off it now, and still Finestrat council do nothing about it. They say it will cost two million euros to fell it. Well me and a few friends will do it for 500,000 and as much beer as we can drink, with a couple of sledge hammers, but I guess the Health and Safety fraternity wouldn't allow that.

..Colin and Jeremy are cureently back in the UK, and Dave and Pete are planning to go home on Tuesday.

We now have an Indian restaurant in the Bay and a new 'chippy', yes a 'chippy'! And after consuming a few yesterday me Jonathan and Duncan went to dine there, just like being in Bolton...! Just need a good donna Kebab place and we have cracked it.

...The Monika Hotel is back open, however, there was a slight snag when some of the Easter guests booked in, they had no running water. So I guess thats a few customers they have lost. And the erection called the Gran Magic Atrium (pictured above), is still idle and has been since last August. It is an eyesore, and must be costing Finestrat and Villajoyosa millions in lost revenue through people visiting elsewhere where they do not have to constantly look at a building site.

..That's the update done. Two new characters are soon to feature in my blog, meet John and Bob. They moved here 6 weeks ago. They have brought quite a lot of furniture with them but have had to buy bits and pieces, like kitchen furniture and cabinets etc. I got involved with the buying of a gas fire. I offered to drive them to Carrefour where they sell such fires, the fire is a stand alone one, fuelled by a calor gas tank. We went to get it and I drove them back home and left them to sort it out. A few minutes after I got home the phone rang. "Bob its John, I think we bought the wrong thing", "Why I said" he said "It says the fuel has to be Petroleum gas". "OK John we will take it back". So off we went up to carrefour. After a significant wait the two assistants tried to tell us it was for ordinary gas, but John insisted on getting his money back and we went to Ardy's , another 'Do it yourself' outlet. We bought the right thing and a valve for the tank. We already had a gas cannister so once again I dropped them off at home and went back to my apartment. The phone rang again. "Bob its John, I thonk this one is broken!" "I'll come round John and have a look" I replied. I went to their apartment, and I got the guided tour. It is a nice apartment overlooking the sea, and Benidorm Island quaintly known by locals as 'Bird s**t Island' because all there is on it is one cafe and millions of birds. Anyway back to the fire. I looked at the fire got the valve fitted it to the bottle turned the knob and fired it up. 'What was wrong then." said John. "Nothing much, you had put the gas bottle 'on' switch to off, the fire switch in the wrong position and the gas pipe wasn't locked"...... I am waiting to hear how the self assembly cupboard is coming along........

It isn't over until.........Jeremy sings!

...At long last I am back in Spain. I was in Bolton for six weeks, both dealing with my dad's estate and using the time to do some repairs to the flat. The first thing I needed to do was to replace the windows. Although they were double-glazed they were wooden and the rain and frost has managed to tear them apart over the last few years. So I rang Grosvenor a very reputable firm in Bolton, well they are based in Horwich actually. The man came to give me a quote and when my jaw came back off my chest and I could talk again, I said I would think about it. We have five windows, two which can be considered large windows and three that you would consider small. So I thought £2,400 a bit excessive.

Roy is my neighbour in Bolton and a good chap to know if you want to get a bargain anywhere. I had a word in his 'shell-like' and he rang Malcolm his brother-in-law. Malcolm was there in a shot and said he would charge me £1,780 I was beginning to like Malcolm. So he said "It will take 2 weeks to get the frames made and a day or two to fit them, and the bill can be settled in cash if that's all right. But only after you are satisfied". True to his word Malcolm was exactly two weeks to the day and beginning to install my new windows. Now this brings me to my second major maintenance problem. A few months prior to my sojourn in the UK, a man from British gas knocked on the flat door and my son who was 'resting' from his career in TV, answered the door. "Can I come in and smell for gas." the man asked. So in he came and looked around with a gas sniffer. Apparently someone had reported smelling gas and this was the safety inspection. When he looked at the gas fire he said "Oh dear, that can't be used, its issueing toxic fumes." promptly cutting it off from the gas supply.

So, as I was sitting at the table freezing in places in places where I didn't think frost could reach, because Malcolm had removed the window and was preparing for the installation of the new one, I composed an email to the makers of my gas fire. something like...."Dear sir or Madam, I have had one of your gas fires fitted from new four years ago. It is a flueless fire and after four years only, a man from the gas board came and promptly condemned it. Now whilst I accept the guarantee has long expired, I would have expected a fire of such expense to have lasted longer than four years before being disconnected by the Gas board as a potential death-trap. Is there anything you can do to make me feel better about both your product and your company before I go to 'Watchdog'?"

I received a very nice email back from Sally which in summary explained they were despatching me a fire tray free of charge, but I would have to pay for someone to fit it. Well I don't know about you but I called that a 'result'.

So, Malcolm was paid for an excellent job done, and a Corgi gas fitter from Westhoughton, came to fit the fire and once more we had heat. It was with all of this complete I decided I had been there long enough and back to Spain for me.

Which brings us to yesterday. Our friend Patrick invited us to his apartment for Sunday lunch and we had agreed to meet more friends later in the Marina Bar. Patrick has a lovely apartment in a block at the top of the hill. His views are of the Rincon de Loix, levante and Poniente beaches. Out to sea and over the hills. He cooked us a delicious meal of Melon and smoked salmon, followed by Lamb and roasted vegetables with honey and lionnaise potatoes, finished with Patricks signature dish, Banoffee pie! Practically unable to walk due to greed! we set off for the marina, where we met up with Jeremy, Colin, Dave, Ian, Beryl and Pat.

We chatted and drank a bit and basked in the 20 degrees of sun having a whale of a time. Jeremy and Colin had been up to el Cisne (a Sunday market near Albir) and they had obviously had a few drinks there because Jeremy at least was merrier than us.

Jeremy and Colin are two of the nicest people you could, ever meet, and they are always good company. Since I mentioned his singing, however, in a previous blog, I do believe he is getting a phobia about it. I never said he couldn't sing, I just said we know when he is starting to feel the effects of whatever falling down juice he decided to drink that day, when he starts to sing. As per usual, we had a debate about several things but ultimately came around to politics. Jeremy and I sit at either end of the political spectrum. He is a great fan of Maggie Thatcher and all she stands for where as I am more like an Harold Wilson socialist, with a dash of Blair. So sometimes we tend to have opposite solutions to prevailing political and of course financial crises. But as they say in theatre it isn't over until the fat lady sings and just before Jeremy's departure, he sat back outstretched his arms and began to sing....."I'm coming out of makeup, The lights already burning, Not long until the cameras will start turning, and the early morning madness, and the magic in the making, yes everything's as if we never said goodbye......" Not that I am either likening Jeremy to 'the fat lady' nor Norma Desmand in Sunset Boulevard, I am merely pointing out that when Jeremy sings its mearly time to say goodbye.... (I told you I knew the words Jeremy)