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.........
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.........
