SIESTA

In Spain, never try to do more in a day, than is practically achievable. By this I mean, that if it involves something technical, financial, legal or medical, attempting to do any more than two things will end in failure and frustration.

Now part of this is just because it is Spain! They have a whole profession (the gestorias) devoted to understanding the bureaucracy of the nation.

The other reason is siesta! Nothing really opens until 10am and then it all shuts at 2pm, until the ‘tarde’ (5pm-8pm) ….. And we Northern Europeans like to get up once; get on with the days tasks; have some time for relaxation and then go to bed.  It is so difficult to start the day again at 5pm – especially if by then, you are thinking only of your first beer!

If you have been brought up in Spain, you will have learnt to deal with the fact that the daily rhythm involves waking up, getting up, and getting going, twice in 24 hours. Late start,; mid morning snack; late lunch; maybe some alcohol: bit of a snooze; back to work at 5pm until 8’oclock…. And then the party starts!!

Having said that, in the campo, the countryside, there is another Spanish rhythm.

It’s been getting hot these last few weeks.  When it’s not a market day, and I have to be up really early, I get the dog walking, 7am, ‘early shift’. But most often my neighbours have beaten me to start the tasks of the day. Water is torrenting down the acequia from the bolsa neuva . Isobel has been watering the newly sown corn field that will provide fodder for the goats and variety to the family pot in the autumn. All over the valley, goat herds tinkle. Millie, Holly and I nearly adopted a small herd one day, which despite the anguished cries of Maria, the goat shepherdess, wanted to come home with us! Jose has parked his donkey under the shade of an olive tree and is harvesting the first of the summers beans and onions. 


The best thing about the ‘early shift’ is that the air is really clear, and you can see miles – even to the big boats leaving  Garrucha harbour, 25k as the crow flies and 1100metres down below us.

Anyway, dogs walked, we had jobs to do in the town, and in these days of really expensive fuel, and not really wanting to go down to the town, any more than we had to anyway, we decided to ‘go for it’ and get as many jobs done as possible.

We set off over the mountain – the ‘red diesel’ guzzling, tank track tractor, was just starting to trundle over the almond groves to riddle them of weeds. Shame really, because many of those weeds were wild rocket – a peppery addition to any bland salad – though I expect to be able to find plenty more.

Sure enough, when we arrived at Albox, not the prettiest of towns, but where there has been some investment to try to improve the townscape, it was mainly shut at 9.50am!

Coffee time then! 
We found a bar and ordered 
– descafeinado for Heather, and Americano for me – and I am so glad I did. Coffee decaffeinated – why would you bother, when you could have the real thing - laced with (unasked for) brandy! ….and when I came to pay – 2 Euros! For the two including a biscuit!

The day’s looking  good – so let’s get on with it.

First a technical issue – we wanted to be able to receive Spanish TV in our casa, so into the ‘aerial and cable’ shop, around the corner from the ‘brandy’ bar, we went, to get what we needed. Sorted, no problems.

Then something financial - off to the bank, and the day started to go downhill!

I’ve had, £20 sterling in a Cajamar deposit account since we came here. At the time, it seemed like a good idea to have somewhere in Spain where I could put pound notes. Then recently, I discovered that I was being charged more for the account than I was earning in interest. I reckoned it would be about 4 years before I started to owe the bank money, and so for the second time in the month (the first attempt was aborted) I returned to the bank with what I hoped this time, would be all the correct paperwork to close the account…. And I did indeed have all the correct paperwork , but unfortunately the only employee of the bank who could close a £20 account wasn’t there, and we waited and we waited and we waited! 50 minutes later she showed up, and 10 minutes later she got around to closing the account. I tell you, I very nearly closed all the accounts we have there, but I’m sure that in the scheme of things, that was just asking for more trouble.

And then off to the gestoría for some bureaucracy. To deliver the papers of the quarter year tax return, and hopefully an explanation from the gestor, Francisco about why I was paying tax when so far this year my market stall hadn’t covered the cost of my autónomo (national health insurance) never mind make a profit! 

When we engaged him two years ago ,he could talk perfect English. Now nada! However, it took another hour of waiting to talk to him in Spanish about this, and when I left, he had my tax papers, but I was little the wiser.

…. And then it was siesta.

….and in the summer months I understand why siesta is such a necessity. It’s just too hot and knackering to do anything between 2pm and 5pm except snooze or float in a pool; though in the cooler season that’s not the case, but I guess custom is custom.

So when in Spain, remember many tasks will need to be done mañana – not tomorrow necessarily, but certainly not today!