Missed you all yesterday. I had a day of getting lost, Spanglish and tucking our caravan up. Set off early to collect our caravan from the cabin and take it in for storage and repair. On the way I needed to post an important letter. There is a post office in the village, Im told. So, detour to go there first and find a small cottage that has a Corrier sign. Well, that was easy. . . Two men are scraping its walls. Hola I say. Buenos one of them says, eyeing me with suspicion. (Funny expression, but widely used. It is supposed to be, Buenos Dais,- good day. But the Spanish always shorten things - why say two words when you can say one? - I try to imagine us going round saying to each other Good Good??? uh?) Oh well that is the Spanish way. I skirt around them and try the door. It is locked. Man looks at me as if to say, I thought you were a funny one Albierto? (open?) I ask. Non, Cerado! (closed) and shrugs, in a way of saying, why you ask - door is locked! I giggle, as it seems to be the best thing to do. He smiles, ah, perhaps I can try again, as I only wanted to know when it was opening, not was it open today, I could see that it was closed. Albierto Manana? (Open tomorrow...) Oh, why do I do it? I can only speak pigeon Spanish, just to get by, but somehow, If I get something right, they think thats it, they can come back at me with a whole lot of Spanish spoken at a hundred miles an hour and that I will understand! I nod and say Si at suitable intervals, and try a bali or two (meaning okay) But he is not to be stopped. He gestures up and down the road, shrugs like a good one, and goes red in the face. From what little bits I pick up, I think he is saying it is a disgrace that post offices are closing, That his madre (mum) suffers. That it is the mayors fault! I agree - as arent we having the same problems. I try a, Ingleterra simila - (England is the same) - and shrug and shake my head. This seems to make him happy and he smiles. I escape back into the car, Adios, mi amigo! As I feel that he is my friend, after all, arent we in the same boat now? Post offices closing affects everyone! I didnt find one in the next village either! Bloody Mayor! ha ha, When I did find one open, it is packed to the rafters. I duly take my ticket - that is the system- like we have at some meat counters in supermarkets. Should be a good one as everyone should be served in the correct order - oh, no, dont be fooled by any, system the Spanish dont know the meaning of the word - and they certainly dont know the meaning of queuing, or, Im next! I was number 19. I watch the ticker going very slowly, after all, how madre and padre and bambinos are, has to be discussed with each customer. And then, there is the beautiful senorita that just brought in a pair of shoes - a suitable package had to be found. They had to be wrapped by the drooling senor old enough to be her dad! He had to delay all his actions so that he could flirt with the beautiful senorita. Then she had to find the address to send them to on her phone! ahhggg! All the time the lady serving next to him, took anyone who stepped forward forgetting to click her next number! And the Spanish can step forward, even if theyd only just walked through the bloody door!! That left me, almost closing time, feet tired, and worrying about Roy waiting in the car. The shoes are done. The lady is busy with the last but one customer. Senor comes down from cloud nine and begins to click. I step forward, but no. He has to go through the clicker. 8, non? I shake my head...on and on he goes until he reaches 16, and from no where, a man steps forward. Senor shrugs! Is that all they can do, SHRUG! grrr... Then the lady assistant comes free. This is it. Im having her no matter what! I barge forward, put my package down in front of her and give her a defiant stare. Her colleague enters into what sounds like a heated argument that will surly will come to blows? But no. she takes my ticket, clicks the clicker around to 19, smiles at him sweetly, and serves me....OMG! I am served - three quarters of an hour after coming through the door. As I leave I say - Elvis has left the building Their faces are a picture. I arrive back at the car, exhausted - life is hard in Spain, haha... Tucking the caravan in was difficult. Especially as we are going to sell it in the new year I love that van and the freedom of camping, but, Roy cannot take another trip in it - I wonder why? haha . . . Love you all xxx
Posted on: Tue, 16 Dec 2014 09:59:41 +0000
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