New cushions to dos huevos con patatas fritas

...New cushions in the Marina bar! Yes Pepi and Antonio have bought new cushions. The fact that the whicker chairs are falling apart is a mere detail. But yesterday when I went for the odd Mahou, Pepi was sat witha chord-less drill and some screws shaking a selected whicker chair to see how unsteady it was. If it failed the test he got a screw and used the drill as an electric screw driver to fix the wobble. Next to me was a Dutch couple who couls speak some Spanish and very good English. "Pepi doesn't like to spend money" the man said to me, instantly clocking that I was a limey. "He must have got the covers from a gypsy at knock down prices, but he clearly couldn't make a deal for the chairs" he laughingly continued. Pepi, who was un-moved by this jolly banter, continued shaking chairs like a man possessed.

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My wife Angela works in a small English supermarket called La Cala Save, she has colleagues Julie and Sally, an occasional worker called Rita and her boss is Andrew. They all work it amongst themselves who works when, and do swaps when the social scene demands. The shop is slightly more expensive than Mercadonna or Lidl, but he is dealing in a lower turnover so that's why. To the holiday maker La Cala save is a little part of the UK abroad.

They arrive at their holiday home for the week/fortnight full of enthusiasm. They have their first meal and start to think about what they are eating, by day two they venture out towards pastures new, and they come across La Cala save. If you have ever watched Peter Kay's acts you may have heard his tale of going abroad. How the brits see a packet of cadbury's chocolate fingers and saying "oh they taste just like those in England". Well that's their first observation the second one is after they have tried their spanglish out "hola, do youo have salto" and they realise that the person they are talking to is English, they instantly relax, "Ah great, do you have any English salt"? ....

The other bit of information that they find hard to assimilate is the very fact an English person is serving at all. "do you live here"? is a regular enquiry, my wife has known to be flippant occasionally and say "No I commute most days". (hope Andrew doesn't read this oops).

And talking about shopping, I haven't mentioned Sheila and Pat. They are professional shoppers, you hardly see either without shopping bags or trolleys, unless of course they are in the marina bar and then you rarely see them without alcohol.

Both ladies have recently lost their husbands, but they have helped each other through a very difficult period and they seem to be coming out of the other side. Shelia has sold her house in the UK and Pat is in the process of selling.

Sheila and Pat have another friend calle Brenda, who is from Scotland. All three are very good company and like a laugh. I also pity the poor man who thinks these ladies are a walkover, because they are definitely not! The three go to Cafe Benidorm which has seen off much younger people than this trio, and they come home with the milk float.

The day that Pat and Sheila seem to come to like on is Friday, that's La Cala market day. The riverbed street converts to a large open air market. Stall upon stall, selling fresh vegetables, fruit, watches, wallets, hand bags, paintings, toys. You name it , it is probably there. In the middle is a makeshift cafe, and in all cafes in Spain they sell alcohol. so from some time in the AM, Sheila and Pat are bringing their 2 favourite hobbies together 'drinking and buying'!

By the afternoon you can see emerging from the crowd and landing on an unsuspecting Marina Bar, in need of food. Sheila has very good Spanish and it is therefore maybe because she is tired she asks for "dos egg and chips Pepi".......

San Juan

... San Juan has been and gone. Bonfires were lit, fireworks fired, picnics eaten partying galore. It is a wonderful atmosphere.

My wife, brother in law and sister in law went to select our spot on the beach, we were lucky to find somewhere only a few feet from the sea. The invitation to everyone was look for us by the tourist information hut. The crowds gathered, but as our party included people working, or meeting other guests, the beach was almost full before we were a completed group. Nearby were groups of Spaniards and ex-pats and on the road outside the Marina Bar were lots of bemused tourists wondering exactly was going on.

On the beach front near the car park were two enormous stages, on one there was an orchestra/band and very good they were too. over the second stage there was a crane and a hoist which was later to act as a kind of trapeze for the finale of the fiesta.

We all had our cold boxes and wine and beer. we put a towel on the sand acting as a table, lit a few candles as dusk fell. Others had bought their charcoal from the vender and lit small fires near their groups. The party atmosphere grew and soon people were dancing to the music, including Pete who had probably consumed a sufficient quantity of vino collapso to dance alone in the sea. This was much to the amusement of the Spaniards who were all photographing him with digital cameras and mobile phones some even videod him too. So our group comprised, me my wife, Pete and Dave, Laurence and Tony, Brenda, Jonathan and Duncan, Paul and Tracy, Paul's Dad and step Mother, Patrick and Neil (who own and run a fantastic restaurant called Paneils) Andrea and Rick (who made a sangria to die for) and one or two others who came and went.

Nearby there was a group with a Barbeque and a charcoal fire. The fire was clearly fading so the kids went to fetch whatever wood they could and ended up with some which was damp. The outcome was billowing acrid smoke which was getting on everyones chest. A Spanish group behind us took exception to it and asked them to put it out. They didn't. So the Spaniards put it out for them. This prompted the mother of the children to go and kick sand on their fire which resulted in an arm flailing fist waving altercation. Fortunately it fizzled out like the two fires.

We had prepared some food, nothing fancy just sausages and chicken things and bread. We all ate and drank until 12, when everyone ran into the sea following tradition, except Pete who had never come out of it (in fact we weren't sure if he had swam to Ibiza and back the length of time he was in there.) At 12.15 the street lights dimmed which was a signal that the fireworks would start. It was one of the best displays I have seen.

The finale then started, lots of evocative music and the arrival of the parade which had been walking since 8 pm. And when it finished that was the end of the official fiesta. We as a group fragmented some went to the Marina bar, others went home some stayed on the beach to finish their picnic. Dave was carried home by Pete, Laurence and Tony went early because they had a boating party the day after. Patrick and Neil were still in party mode so continued with Jonathan and Duncan. Me and my relatives went home.

We have yet to meet in order to have a post mortem of the fiesta, but generally thought to be one of the best, we await the photographs of the lonesome thonged Pete dancing into the sea like a latterday King Canute.....

see the fun on Utube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygexeM2QokQ