This is my first post from sunny Torrox on my new diary system. It’s based on a blog so I don’t have to send things to my web designer to upload anymore.
Torrox may well be a traditional white village, nestling in the Andalucian mountains but we’re quite advanced on the quiet and have broadband connections to the internet.
Filed under Does the sun always shine? An interview with........, Torrox Life by on May 3rd, 2007.
Why become an emigrant?
Why not? Nothing new to me, doesn’t make me brave (as people often say). I had lived abroad before, spending 3 years in the Far East, living in Malaya and Singapore. So why? The answer is that all of a sudden I found the U.K. had become dull,grey,depressing and I wanted to ‘spread my wings and FLY’. It all came to a head after spending many years working for the Probation Service in an admin. capacity, then qualifying in my own right as a Welfare Officer and knew from over 15 years as a Trade Union Officer that my chances of crossing the dividing line were zilch. I also wanted to be somewhere were people smiled, didn’t continually talk about the weather or what were the latest happenings in Eastenders. I supposed I had reached the age of 50 and wanted a challenge and knew that if I stayed put I would only face a culture where failure was the only success.
So, why Torrox?
It was choice of area firstly. My partner remembered it from years back when, being stationed in Portugal in the RAF, he used to drive up through Spain to the U.K. the long way, following the coast road up to Barcelona and then into France. It always stayed in his mind that just East of Malaga seemed a good place. We did the normal things of sending for property information from various Agents, deciding on the Competa or Torrox area, and then took a very un-normal decision of booking just one weeks leave from our jobs, me carrying £3,000 in Travellers Cheques in order to buy ‘the small village house that would call out to us’, despite the fact that we were in what could be called a ‘non-committed’ relationship.
Competa was the first stop, which lasted just long enough to get out of the car in the main square, hear all the English voice, get back in the car and drive off. No, thank you, that was not what we wanted. So, we headed down the hills and arrived in Torrox. Complete heaven! (it was 1992 and not many English voices to be heard………at that time!!). Neither of us could speak any Spanish, we didn’t know anyone, but what the hell….this was a challenge! Within the week we had found the house, paid the deposit and started the procedure. At first, for the next two years, we kept the house just for holidays when we could do it up. Then, in 1994, I had passed my exams at Diploma Level and at Merit, was as qualified as the Officers I was typing for and more or less said the very unladylike words of ‘Shove it’ to my Senior Officer and took early retirement and basically never set foot in the office again!. My ‘uncommitted’ partner on being told I intended move to Spain, took the same decision and in 1994, a month after I buried my mother, we moved out here and, as far as I am concerned, have never looked back.
Now, all these years later, I am my own boss, dealing with three ventures. I run Spanish-hols.com, I have a blossoming photography project……..making memories of the old Andalucian doors, windows and ruins and I also teach and demonstrate Scrapbooking. I also have a couple of books on the ‘back burner’
Now to the fun questions…………
What book are you reading at the moment? Ian Rankin’s Fleshmarket Close. I love anything by Rankin and just adore DCI Rebus.
Favourite food(s)/meals? My last favourite meal was Xmas Day in a Rural Hotel, up in the hills behind Malaga. I had Wild Mussels, Lamb in Liquorice Sauce and Strawberries in Wan Tons….lovely. Besides that I adore the Curries my son makes, most things Italian (including the gorgeous Italian Count , by the name of Francesco da Mosto, who sometimes does travel programmes on Italy for BBC2!!!!!!) and of course I have a liking for good, basic Spanish cooking.
Favourite music? Anything by Gordon Haskell, ‘Home’ by Simply Red, Robbie Williams, Barbra Streisand, Earth,Wind and Fire, soft soul music, romantic Russian Classical music. Any music I can dance to including swirling around in the arms of Anton de Bek. The love song from Titanic ALWAYS makes me cry (why? because it brings memories of someone not here anymore). And what about ‘Jerusalem’ and ‘Land of Hope and Glory’? Either of these would make a smashing National Anthem for England!
Dinner Party guests? The voice from the Magers’ Cider advert, Germaine Greer, Claire Short, Robbie Williams (’cause he comes from where I do), Pippa (my lovely local Lancashire friend), Dick Strawbridge and his wife (from the ‘It’s Hard Being Green’ programme,),Mark Ramperkash (can’t spell it!) and Anton du Bek from Strictly Come Dancing, Carol Thatcher, Janet Street-Porter. John Caldwell and Alan Sugar.
Favourite Place(s)? Here in Torrox plus Malayasia, anywhere ‘up North’ (of England), the Outer Hebridean Isle of North Uist, Poland, Berlin and Belfast.
Hugs or kisses? Hugs
Likes and Dislikes? Strong,independent women……..chauvinistic, patronising men.
What would you wish for (and it may come true!) That my health keeps good and the ability to become famous!
Favourite word? F—
…..and does the sun always shine? Yes , for me, it does.
Filed under Does the sun always shine? An interview with........ by on May 13th, 2007.
As I say, when sober he is lovely, little man…all 5′ft of him is kind, gentle, quiet. No bother, no noise, no shouting, screaming or banging. BUT when drunk he is the same as drunks the world over,
argumentative, noisy, shouting..with added yelling and screaming from the wife. All this at the top of their voices, out in the street, really just your average ‘little domestic’ to be witnessed anywhere. How I wish my spoken Spanish was better, I could tell what they were saying then. But I suppose it would still remain a mystery as the local Spanish, when ‘upset’ (!) speak in a dialect very few foreigners can get a handle on,.Rather the same I suppose as when I speak to my immediate family back in Stoke-on-Trent, because who, except for a native of Stoke can understand Pottry speak?
We’ve known Pepe, his wife Lola and their family (at that time) since we first arrived in Torrox Pueblo, Andalucia, in 1992. They were a lot quieter then and he did seem to be going out to work. Whereas now, he seems to spend his time, when not drunk and in the street, up in the Campo (countryside) where I believe they have some family land. Lola has never looked well to me, not a bit of weight on her and her legs and ankles, well there’s more meat on my cat! I don’t know how her legs support her. Please don’t ask about the state of her teeth (not many) or her finger nails (filthy). But a caring woman,as she demonstrated a year ago when I broke my left wrist and she was in tears when she saw the arm in plaster. When we first met them they had 5 children, but another little one was born after we had been here about 3 years. It seemed to be a family of two halves, the first half being three girls all in their teens, then there was something like a 10 year gap, and then the 3 last children arrived. Very difficult to try and find a way of asking someone who lives around the corner why was there a 10 year gap? Did they live in the same house for those years? Did they never ‘get it together’?(!). Even now my Spanish is a lot better, it is a question I have never really got round to asking. However, I digress. The three younger children, like their mother, were never well, plus the kids all had something the matter problems with their eyes. The older girls all seemed well and quite healthy and are all now married with children of their own, the eldest living in Nerja and the other two living in Torrox Pueblo. Then very strangely about 2 years after the last child was born, all three of the younger children were nowhere to be seen. It seemed that the parents had a long history of drinking and were often visited by Social Services, who it turned out had decided that the younger children could no longer remain in the home and were taken to a place of safety. Word on the street is that the parents don’t know where the children now are, but that they are all together in a very nice and supportive foster home a good way away. The older girls, who by that time, had moved out of the family home, did try and get custody of their younger siblings, but to no avail.
Any road up, as the years past I think both of them upped the drinking stakes, the arguments got more and the shouting and yelling got louder. On really bad occasions our other Spanish neighbours became involved, joining in, sitting on the steps, mulling it all over either between themselves or with Pepe and Lola. It would all get settled and silence would reign for a couple of months. Then it would go off again, he would be holding court round one of the local little bars (holds two standing, guests have to sit outside!),Lola would be hiding round a corner watching and shouting abuse, with the next thing being that you would see her early in a morning coming up from the square carrying bottles of beer for their breakfast. Don’t think much food was bought in that house, although he did bring lots of veg and eggs from the campo……and this is an example of his kindness when drunk. …a few years ago I fell almost outside his door and ripped all the ligaments etc., off my ankle. There I was, this foreign woman, sitting in the street, howling in pain, tears streaming down my face, and he came out and was at a complete loss as to what to do with me. It was obvious that he wanted to help me and he said the first thing that came into his head…….’Did I want an egg?’ At that time, no I didn’t really. But on me saying me, the offer was upped to two eggs. After some serious negotiations, I settled for 6 and away he went to put them in his pockets so they wouldn’t get broken. As I say, when sober………
It was only last year that the Police first seemed to get involved. I went up our cul-de-sac one morning, turned the corner, puddles of blood, bloody hand prints all down the street. Someone, i.e. a drinking friend, had knocked on their door in the early hours, Pepe had hit him on the head with a frying pan…..as one does! In circumstances like this best if the Police are kept informed! The blood stayed there for a couple of days until one of the Spanish neighbours gave it a good scrub. Pepe was taken off for a few hours and on his return up came the mate with head cleaned up, they made up and off they all went. Since then the drinking, both of them, has continued, the rows have carried on, Lola seems to have been in and out of hospital and looked worse all the time. Pepe has been talking to the walls, the road and anyone who happened to be passing.
It all came to a head last Wednesday night. I put out rubbish out at the top of the street and was surprised to see a load of women sitting on the stoop in front of Pepe’s door, all talking. I immediately thought ‘My God some body’s dying’ as it is the custom when death is close for people to sit outside houses (if one didn’t know one was at deaths door, you soon would when all these people suddenly turned up and sat or stood outside your front door). Anyway, I thought no more of it until coming back from shopping the next day to see two Guardia Civil Officers outside Pepe’s door.
It seems as if the evening before he was his normal drunken self, had come home, knocked Lola out of bed (and because of her continuing ill health, she was now sleeping in a hospital bed in the front room, just inside the door), smashed her head on the floor. This time not the local Police came, but the Guardia, Injunction Order imposed, Pepe is now banished to the Campo for the next 3 months, Lola has been stitched up and peace and quiet now reigns in the street. But for how long? When he is ‘in his cups’ up in the campo, do the Guardia really believe he will not get on his moped and make a visit to his wife?
To me, this is all part of my life here in Torrox Pueblo, especially as we live up in the older part of the village. Life is out on the streets here, loud and for everyone to see and hear! I really wish my Spanish was better!
Filed under Torrox Life by on May 20th, 2007.