Anyway, I remembered there being a car repair centre next to the Eroski supermarket, which wasn’t far away at all and so we drove down there and I explained what had happened to one of the mechanics. He took the wheel, which went on a rig, he squirted some liquid on the dented part of the wheel and it bubbled madly all over the place. He then walked across to the tool board, took a big hammer and proceeded to batter the wheel rim, three or four times, more liquid went onto the wheel rim, no bubbles. He put his thumb up with a big smile and said “OK”. He then checks out the steering and that’s all fine but then he finds that one of the tyres is a bit too worn on the inside and needs to be changed. This is a bit of a shocker as the car was only bought two days ago and we’ve done about 80 Km or so. I explained this to the mechanic and asked if he could write down what the problem was on the service paperwork, so I can send it onto the company, which he does.
By this time, the market would have been wrapping up and we had to be back in Sedella because, as so often happens, the hot water pipe in the bathroom had sprung a small leak. So, denied a coastal ice cream, we drive back home and wait for the plumber, who said he’d be there at 3, he turned up at 3, so don’t believe everything you hear about Spanish tradespeople. Leak fixed in a short space of time and by then, I felt worn out. I put this down to the fact that just over a week ago we were going about our daily life at not much more than sea level and now we’re at almost 700 meters above sea level and in temperatures of the high teens low twenties, anyway, that’s my excuse. Plus, not forgetting a trip to Ikea to buy a couple of armchairs and sample the knuckle of pork while there, a walk up to the molino, half painting the wooden beams on the terrace (half painted as the paint ran out) and evening promenades around the village, it’s been a hectic time.
Talking of promenades, after setting out for an evening stroll, we heard someone running towards us from behind. I glanced behind only briefly and saw a 5 or 6 year old boy holding, what I thought was a boomerang as he ran along. Retirement had obviously made me forget all the zombie training because as the boy passed us, gasping “Hola,” the object I thought was a boomerang in his hand was actually a sickle, with the sharp end pointing towards his leg! And I thought you weren’t supposed to run with scissors! Anyway, about 50 yards on, we saw him again, with about 3 or 4 other children but the sickle had gone and as none of the children appeared to be happy and not injured, we carried on with the walk.
We keep a look out for two Spanish women who regularly walk along the same route, although, slow walkers they are not. We hope we meet them on the flat, when we don’t look so slow. They’re very friendly and one day we hope to match them for speed. Mrs S say’s it’s not a competition and she’s right but so far the only people we can overtake are the ones who’ve stopped for a chat. We make it to a bend in the road, where there are two benches. We like to sit there and watch the sun going down and of course, wave at the cars who have tooted us, still not recognising many of the drivers. The same night as the fake zombie attack, sitting there, we heard a motorbike approaching and the sound of gleeful screaming. Around the corner comes a trials bike, with a small girl driving, not really but for a split second it looked like that. There’s actually a grown up sitting behind her but then we see a another small girl sitting behind the grown up. There was no waving this time, as everyone was clinging on to something. Not to be left out, I clung to Mrs S, who said “Don’t be daft.” This advice was a bit late, as I’ve been daft for as long as I can remember. Calming down, we sit back, enjoy the views and the relative silence.
It looked like the excitement was over for the evening and so, we made our way down towards the village, to see how the work was progressing on the arch. The village is having a Moorish arch built and the basic structure was now there. It’s not archlike as yet but we’ll wait to see how that will turn out. Will it be finished by the time our break ends? We turned back and retraced our steps, we made our way back around the road, as the sun sank down towards the hills. There was hardly a cloud in the sky as we walked from the sunshine and into shade and the difference was quite noticeable but there was still the smell of orange blossom in the air, with Mrs S getting her fix as we passed the trees, laden with blossom. We reach a hairpin in the road and follow it back towards the village. The road rises steeply and near the end of the walk, really takes it’s toll on the legs. Our legs. That said, even the cars turning the bend tend to struggle, so we’re not alone. You get a great view of the village from this road and it’s probably one of our most photographed but never fails to impress. The white village, nestled in front of Maroma, which looms like a massive tidal wave, set in stone. I took a photo or two, before we carried on back to the house, where we went back up to the terrace, to wring the last few minutes of daylight out of the day. The swallows and house martins are doing their thing, so I tried to get some photos of them and it was a struggle to get anything which looked in focus but one or two are passable, if you don’t look too closely.
I’m also pleased to report that after Mrs S got me a one day group photography lesson for Christmas, I no longer have the camera set to “Auto” and I’m enjoying experimenting with the varied options available. I’d looked online a few times about the basics but I found it much easier with someone showing and explaining how things work plus, can directly answer any questions there and then. This has been so useful and after about 18 days here, I’ve taken over 350 photos, more if you count the ones that have been deleted. Anyway, they’ll be trimmed down again at some point but the ones we keep will be a reminder, when we’re not out in Spain. Plus, I can add a few to these blogs, to let those who don’t know the area, see what we see.
The next day, we drove down to Torre Del Mar, to do a little slow walking on the flat. There is a promenade that runs from just beyond the lighthouse and along to the outskirts of Caleta De Velez. Armed with a couple of bottles of water, big hats and a packed lunch, we set off at not a slow pace, this was more leisurely than slow. Being Semana Santa (Easter to us) it was busier than we’d seen before but it was stll a good way to people watch, whilst on the move. The chiringuitos were quiet as it was just before midday when we set off and the guys who cook sardines on the beach, had only just started up their olive wood fires. The walk runs parallel with the beach and there’s plenty of places to stop and watch the world go buy. The cycle path was also being used a lot more and had added small go karts for children and adult sized go karts for the big kids. It was a bright sunny day and we stopped and sat on the beach wall a couple of times for a water break. Eventually we made it to the end of the prom and we sat down on a small grassed area, shaded by palm trees and had our lunch. The goats cheese and chorizo on bread was awesome, while Mrs S had gone hardcore with her Asturian blue cheese, guaranteed to keep flies and small children away. Not far from us, a Spanish couple and a small child were beginning their lunch. Out came a big plastic tub of salad, then a bottle of vegetable oil, which was drizzled over the salad, followed by a bottle of olive oil, again, drizzled all over the salad, before they all dug in, adding bread and crisps to their lunch. Mrs S, having finished her bread and cheese, tied the now empty sandwich bag tightly and after putting the hazardous waste sticker on, took out her knitting and carried on with her latest project, which was one of a pair of socks. Not being a knitter, I kept myself entertained by people watching, trying to finish one of the enormous apples Mrs S had stashed in the rucksack and thinking which flavours of ice cream I was going to have when we got back to Torre del Mar.
I suppose it was about an hour but it’s hard to tell when you’re so relaxed but we decided it was time to head back. This time the chiringuitos were very busy, with lot’s of fresh sardines and other fish being cooked, something we’ll have to try another time. Of course, the beach was a lot less busy now, with a lot of people having headed off elsewhere but some stalwarts were still there, soaking up the sun and playing games on the beach. There’s beach football pitches, volleyball and playgrounds for the children, so, lot’s to keep people entertained. A round trip of just short of 4 miles, brings us back to Torre del Mar and it’s decision time. Milhojas and Tocino de Cielo for me and Chocolate Blanco and Tocino de Cielo for Mrs S. We sat on the beach wall again and were treated to the sight of a dolphin, a little way off the beach, popping up as it made it’s way along in line with the beach. What a nice way to end the day but a shame I never thought to take a photo of that.
Well, that’s about it for this time, another blog bites the dust but we covered quite a lot of ground. Next up, Semana Santa.
All Images © 2008- TheSlowWalkers