Only 5 weeks to go before we are due to go back to Álora for our Spring Sojourn. Also only 5 weeks before Good Old Great Britain gives two fingers to the European Union, lights the blue touch paper and f****s off into the unknown.
We have no idea what will be waiting for us when we come back, if, indeed, we can get back. I went to the Post Office last week to buy two 'International Driving Permits' so that we can drive in Spain legally after Brexit.
I dread to think how the Guardia Civil will treat British drivers in Spain- most of this fine body of men (I suppose they have women 'civiles' too, although I've never seen one) don't even know what the current regulations are.
We have been advised to leave before Brexit so that the dogs' passports will be valid. I actually spoke to a very nice and civil civil servant at the Department of the Environment last week who assured me that the dogs will be allowed back whatever happens, but only to the UK, so if we have to drive through France we could be turned back at the border. Hey ho.
As Man Not in Álora at the moment, I like to keep an eye on the goings-on down there in sunny Ándalucía and for this information I depend on Peggy, who lives in a two-man tent in North Wales, to keep me al día ( up to date) via her Facebook group 'Tips for Living in and Around Álora'.
I was sorry to miss the annual Fiesta de la Matanza (the Slaughter Festival) again in Ardales, a village up the road.
The current fashion for veganism in the UK hasn't reached Ardales yet. The Ardaleans are known (by some) for their enormous appetites, bad table manners and poor personal hygiene. Indeed, when a Perote (Aloranean) sees somebody with food on their face they immediately exclaim 'Ardales!' The messy culprit wipes off the mess and everyone has a good laugh. (except in Ardales.) I asked a chap once, who admitted to being of the Ardales persuasion, if he knew of this custom and HE HAD NO IDEA! He added that his village called all Perotes 'Brutos' (ignorant louts). Flipping nerve!
When we were in Álora a few weeks ago to do a bit of pruning, all the talk was of the presence of a film crew from 'A Place in the Sun', the popular English daytime TV blockbuster which has done so much to persuade gullible Brits to buy properties in Spain which they can't afford. I watched the programme a couple of weeks ago and recognised the houses featured in Álora. The very nice, featured couple bought a house on Calle Zapata just round the corner from us, so I would like to apologise for what I have just written and look forward to meeting them very soon.
Perhaps you are even actually reading this tripe. I'm from Lancashire too, so I hope we can be pals.
It looks like there are going to be more elections in Spain- a General one in April and the Álora local elections in May. For reasons I can not establish, Mrs. Sánchez and I are eligible to vote in the local elections even if we leave the EU. Beats me.
There's so much going on down there. The annual Álora Painting and Sculpture Competition (we'll miss that). The Annual Cockerel Competion (we'll miss that- no regrets, the pong in there is dreadful), Carnival (we'll miss that too).
Back here in Brum, Mrs.S. and I have been busy doing a bit of decorating, dancing and discovering England. I'm happy to say that her indoors's broken leg is as good as new, if not better. She goes to a yoga class twice a week and tries to go for an early morning swim two or three times a week. She did 50 lengths of the pool today and would have done more but the Park Keeper blew his whistle and made her get out. Apparently there's a pair of great crested grebes nesting on the island.
The downside to this brilliant recovery is that we've started to go dancing again,
It all started years ago when I had a bad back and, during a particularly agonising spasm, I foolishly swore that 'if this back ever gets better I'll agree to having dancing lessons'. I must say that I'd imagined myself cutting a bit of a dash doing the Rumba, Salsa, Cha Cha Cha and Tango. And I've always believed that I have 'natural perfect rhythm'.
Mr.and Mrs, Sánchez doing the Tango (in my imagination)
After two or three years of expensive lessons we could get round the room without having to stop too many times (which messes all the other hoofers up as they have to get round you, like avoiding a rusty exhaust pipe on the M6). But these days we've forgotten most of our 'moves' and 'Strictly Balloom' has killed off many of the old dance venues because it all looks too difficult on the telly and those frocks cost an arm and a leg..
Any road up, we went, a week last Saturday, to a Dance in Solihull. They don't do those sexy Latin dances much now- it's all Sequence Dancing, which is a like a mixture of The Barn Dance, The Minuet and Line Dancing (but in a circle). Everybody does the same thing at the same time, which mainly involves walking, turning round, clapping and shouting 'Oi' from time to time. Nobody smiles much and the only thing that appeals to me is the unusual names they give to these 'Walks of the Living Dead'. Here's a few of my favourites:
The Autumn Foxtrot
The Oriental Cha Cha Cha
The Fish Supper Foxtrot
The Alamein Saunter
The Crematorium Shuffle
The Dunkirk Stroll
The Anzac Tango
The Rumba Andalusia!!!
and that old Yorkshire favourite The Owmuch Waltz.
If you think I'm making these up, Google them.
Discovering England
I heard the other week that Edinburgh is going to have a Tourist Tax. Everyone will have to pay £3.00 to visit this very interesting and historic Scottish City. I think it's taking a bit of a liberty, even for the Scots, so I've decided to visit as many interesting English towns as I can before they start charging too!
Interesting English Towns of England .
1, Royal Tunbridge Wells
Royal Tunbridge Wells is in Kent, where our daughter lives, and a long way from anywhere I have lived. Coming from The North of England I've always imagined that rural towns in The South are full of historic half-timbered buildings, posh cafés, delicatessens and traditional English shops like Ironmongers, Greengrocers, Bakers and Confectioners, Family Butchers and old pubs selling local ales.
(Author's note: This is what a lot of people who voted to leave Europe in our Great Referendum dream of too).
Royal Tunbridge Wells is a Spa Town and one of the only four towns in England to be allowed to call itself 'Royal'. Its most famous inhabitant is known as 'Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells'
Nobody knows who 'Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells' is, or was, but during the 1950s he or she wrote a lot of letters to The Tunbridge Wells Advertiser and signed themselves 'Disgusted' or 'Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells'. It seemed that many of Tunbridge Wells's inhabitants felt very angry about so many things and soon people were writing to The Times newspaper using the same name. Michael Caine's second most memorable quote out of two is;
Here's a typical letter:
SIR - Being present at the unveiling of the plaque on Thursday last week on the Pantiles I was surprised when the National Anthem was played to see that in a place like Tunbridge Wells which is noted for its loyalty and calls itself "Royal" there should be people who refused to remove their hats.Are such people communists? If they are, Tunbridge Wells should be no place for such as they. We can do without them.
I don't know if they got rid of all the communists but they gave Cheeky Chappy and, some would say, racist comedian Jim Davidson the bum's rush when he tried to do a show there in 2015.
Jim Davidson .
It turns out that Tunbridge Wells isn't very old at all. It only exists because in 1606 a thirsty fat aristocrat who'd had far too many G&Ts, Mutton Pies and Quails in Aspic, drank some water from a spring there and felt better. He was called Dudley North and should not be confused with the West Midlands parliamentary constituency of the same name, currently represented at Westminster by Ian Austin, a political turncoat and apologist for Israel's oppression of the Palestinian people.
The magic ingredient in the water was iron. Lord Dudley immediately bought up all the water spring rights, hot-footed it back to London and told all his lazy, fat, dissipated, gin-soaked mates in the St. James's Gentlemen's clubs all about the iron rich chalybeate rocks and the magic spring water down in Kent.
Very soon a town grew to supply the needs of hundreds of toffs who spent their perpetual spare time touring the Spa towns of England -- Bath Spa, Leamington Spa, Boston Spa etc. looking for miraculous waters that could cure their real or imagined ailments which could have easily been sorted out by a day's work, a Cornish pastie and a good slap.
The emphasis was on luxury and fashion. By 1750 you could buy everything the well-heeled Spa - goer needed in Tunbridge Wells; tooled snuff boxes, china teapots, wigs, quails' eggs, peacock pies and gumballs, to name but a few.
Men called 'Dandies' flounced around in 'macaroni' wigs and led the entertainments. The most famous were Beau Brummel and Beau Nash who could be found any day of the week strutting their stuff in Bath, Tunbridge Wells and London. Their real names weren't really 'Beau', that was just a name given to well known Dandies.
Beau Brummel
The smaller Spa towns, Buxton, Leamington, Tenbury and Llandindrod had their own dandies too , such as Beau Bridges, Beau Duke, Beau Legges and Beau Diddley.
These days Tunbridge Wells looks as shabby as a run-down town anywhere in England. It's pedestrianised centre is full of the usual closed shops, Poundland, charity shops and fast food places. It's no wonder that the people there are disgusted.
A few miles up the road, Tonbridge, isn't much different, except for the spelling, but at least it's got a Waitrose (it's got two!) So much for the wealthy home counties.
There was unbridled joy last January when this notice appeared outside the abandoned Shell petrol station in Tunbridge Wells.-- only to be cruelly quashed when the truth was revealed.
There was not going to be a new Waitrose at all! The new shop at the shell garage would stock some Waitrose products 'including meals for two', that's all.
To add insult to injury, someone put the word round again that Waitrose was coming to a closed down branch of Woolworths but it was opened as a Poundland instead. The 56,000 inhabitants were said to be beside themselves.
Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells was unavailable for comment.
Pie News.
Poundland in Stratford-Upon-Avon has Fray Bentos tinned pies.
Get down there fast, while stocks last .
Juanito Sánchez January 18th. 2019.
