Last night an electrical storm.
We were sitting out roasting in the evening sun with the temperature still in the high twenties when some dark clouds began appearing and the wind started up. “No problems”, said Derek, “it's going to miss us.” How wrong can one person be? He was probably basing this prediction on the weather forecast earlier in the day, which stated no rain and calm. Trouble is, round here in the mountains you get micro climate effects and the weather forecast tends to be more general. SWMBO had mentioned that she thought a storm was brewing which brought on Derek's remark, and she went on to say that animals, especially dogs and more especially our late Max, a German Shepard of large proportions, knew when really bad weather was due. Makes you think what sort of breed she is?
The girls had been waiting in anticipation for the final of Britain's got Talent on Saturday night, starting about 9'ish over here, Jeanne had been following it all week.
So with little Spanish people running around all day, playing football amongst our pitches, Derek's TV dish must have been knocked out of kilter, because when the time came, “no signal” appeared and then the storm started, both of them, one meteorological the other human. “Get it back on!” was suggested by the women folk. As it was coming down in stair rods with lightning flashing all round, neither of us really wanted to stand in an open wet field trying to manoeuvre a large metal object by tiny increments, also we didn't give a monkeys about the program anyway.
Eventually the rain slowed to downpour and with a little skill and boatloads of luck we managed to line it up again, they were happy, bless, and settled down with the help of a bottle of Navara's best and lots of chocolate.
Now some of these shows like “X Factor” do produce people like Paul Potts, Leona Lewis et al but this show basically had one rule, no one over 15 years old can enter. There was a group of lads who did a miniature copy of Take That, but I would rather have the real thing or wait a little while until one of the lad's balls dropped and we got some kind of baritone in there. Another was a 14 year old lad from Croydon who played the drums, very well I give you but you can hardly make a meaningful tune from them, or is it just me? Apparently he had to practice a lot, sometimes he said, until the early hours, I would like to bet that the only people who really appreciated him being there, were his neighbours.
Derek, with the help of a bottle of something, stuck his nose in his favourite book, outside, and slowly settled lower and lower in his chair until all that was left was the grey hair of his head, a page marker and a empty glass.
I watched another “Life in the Undergrowth” by David Attenborough all about ants and termites and their mini civilisations. Then later, with a glass of Rioja, I stood transfixed under the awning, watching the rain die away and the lightening flash against dark satanic clouds, globe and fork lightening silhouetting the Gothic bell tower of Mendigorria on the hill, and later still, the stars coming out in an iniquitous sky. The mountain's perfect reflection in the nearby river Arga, as it flowed royally by, so I could not see where the earth ended or heaven began.
All those moments, now lost in time, like tears in rain.
Apparently a set pre pubescent gymnasts from Worthing,won Britain's Got Talent.
Got up at 7'ish and the weather has calmed down and it's a good day for travelling, which is just as well because today we get Heather from the airport. May stop for a coffee at somewhere along the way and take our time. Stop press, storm is back so no coffee stop I think.
It's 8:00 am and time for SWMBO's wake up call, “I said 8:30 am, nitwit, leave me alone!”. “Make that 9 o'clock!”
9 am, “Do you want a bacon sandwich, 'cos I'm making one?” “No, I'm trying to be a good girl and I'm back on my diet.” Now in a straight battle between a Spanish bacon sandwich/baguette and a bowl of bird droppings in warm water, guess what will win. At the smell of bacon frying she's out of bed and standing next to me. “Where's my bacon sandwich?” Luckily, actually not, it was a foregone conclusion, I had made enough for two.
Last evening a group of young Spanish guys were loitering around the MS obviously intrigued about how it all worked. So having nothing to do I showed them the hitch on the Navara and they quickly understood and then had a quick tour around the MS. They asked all sorts of questions, mpg, weights, costs etc. and were quite impressed with the layout and facilities of the MS, one of the lads upon leaving said to me “I hate you.” The Spanish have a sense of humour after all.
12 noon and off to get Heather.
On the way through called in at Saint Jean De Luc, a small French fishing village just over the border and who do we meet? Derek and Jeanne, who had decided, just after we left, to have a drive out somewhere, can't get away from the buggers.
Arrived at Barritz airport just as RyanAir A 372 was landing and Heather was out by the time we had parked. Nice easy drive back and now it's 7pm Monday evening and she's had a relaxing time so far. Heather, Derek and and I decided to have a lazy day and Jeanne and Tricia, AKA SWMBO, went for a “long” walk, took more pictures of nettles and got back after 3 hours, knackered and just as I was taking the pies out of the oven.
Talked to brother Alan about lending me the deposit money, short term, as I can't get at mine as quickly as Heather needs it. Now normally when we want favours we argue furiously, the more trivial the favour the harder the argument, that's what brothers do. When it's serious, it's a different matter. “Al, I need X £ thousands for Heather's deposit.” “When?” “ASAP”. “What's the a/c number?” and 3 days later it's done. That's what real family are like.
SWMBO announced that the black tank was full, it lasts about 3 weeks depending how often it's used and more importantly, what for, fellow campers will know what I mean. Now the chemical toilets here are not a hole in the ground that you get at some campsites but are just normal things with a stout grill on them. So you have to lift the wastehog to it's level and keeping the top cap on for a slight vacuum and slowly pour out the bottom of the wastehog, slowly opening the top cap to increase flow. (all this sounds rather familiar) What is rather important is not to be over confident and over fill the wastehog because then it will be too heavy to lift to the required height. If two people were involved no problem but the idea of Tricia helping is a non starter, she's doesn't mind the filling process but isn't remotely interested in the emptying part. What this means is about seven trips up and down to the toilet block and if I empty the grey tank, even more. Then usually another shower and change of wardrobe afterwards. I tried using marigold gloves once but the whole thing slipped out of my grasp with disastrous results.
The weather forecast for today was cloudy and 22°C, it's been sunny all day and the thermometer is reading 35°C and it's 7:20 pm. Tomorrow it's supposed to rain, hah!
Tuesday 8th June 2010 El Molino.
Well it's 7:30 am and it could, very well, be a cloudy day, as it certainly is now.
Nice meal last night of beef bourginon, prepared by Jeanne and lots of vegetables prepared by Tricia, when we were all washed up it was 10:30 pm and so time for bed for Heather and Mum. Tricia particularly was dead on her feet after the 8 mile walk in the hot afternoon sun, I'm glad I decided not to go.
By the way I have been turfed out to the rock and roll bed which is actually quite comfortable.
Watched “Life of Mammals” on the laptop with my earphones on before turning in.
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