I can't believe that over a fortnight's passed without a single moment of News24.

 The Spanish way of life has a great deal to offer and I think that we're on the way to taking up their offer better than we've ever done before. We like the weekends which start early afternoon on sabbado when the main street is closed to traffic and pretty much everything except sport ends until lunes.

The thing that brought it home to me was an incident only this morning as we wandered to town. We were overtaken by locals. Granted, they may have been rushing to keep warm but it was no big deal except that when we first arrived we were overtaking everyone and whilst not getting agitated we were certainly wondering why they were so slow. Now we know. They're just taking life at a comfortable pace, it's us that have had to adjust. 

Every stroll becomes a route march. You spend a lifetime rushing from here to there to find out where your management think you ought to be and when you get there they've changed their mind. I like this pace. It feels natural. I think we've adapted to it rather well, for foreigners. Indeed, it may be that we have slowed to a rate that they could admire us for as they'll never admire us for what we do to their language.

You observe the pace that the cafe owners set out their chairs and tables and at first you wondered if there was some ailment that they were suffering from so you admired them for hiding it well. Fortunately I had a headstart being totally at home with this pace as I am fully conversant with the principle of "dreckly" whereas others, one not far away, have yet to fully understand the concept and put it into practice. I like to think that I am, however, a constant source of erudition on the matter and providing both an example of best practice and encouragement in helping that very special one come to terms with its advantages and to incorporate them into her modus operandi. 

We initially got up, got going, rushed about, collapsed in a heap, slept and did it all over again. Now we get up and watch events as if in slow motion. In town there's no one appearing to hurry, traffic stationary behind a car parked on a zebra crossing, of which there are more that I've ever seen, will blast the horn once and wait (probably light a fag and have a yarn to whoever's passing). In supermercado check outs no one shoves, the queue just shuffles ahead, even  when the cashier goes off to weigh something the customer should have weighed no one sighs, no one shrugs their shoulders and stamps their feet. If only one checkout is working no one seems to bother about the empty ones, there's no louder than necessary chuntering about the service. It all seems pretty much serene, really.

From 1330 it all gets even slower until almost all movement ceases. If you're out and about you notice the quiet descending, the streets, not full by any means to start with, become emptier and by 1400 you have the place to yourself, not that it's much use to you. 

So you go home and have a leisurely lunch. At first lunch would be a bocadillo, beer and out again in 20 minutes. Now it's a cup of tea or coffee and watch the shadows rotate a while, Get the pan and whatever's going on it and plonk it down, leisurely spread some Flora, pick out some cured jamon, cut some queso, slice a tomato or two, look at the culinary masterpiece and modify if necessary. Eat some, pour some beer, eat some more, try an olive or two, dip it in some allioli, drink some more beer and by the time you've finished it's 1600 and you realise why more upmarket couples would have rented a place with a dishwasher. Not that this apartment could cope with one.

Hunger and thirst assuaged you once again venture forth. If it's hot the beach is only over the road, if not there's lots to see that we haven't already seen. There's no rush but you ought to be out and about from 1800 for an hour or two because that's when the place comes alive. Almost every street has a space off it somewhere for kids to see saw, swing, go round in circles, something for them to climb over under through or just hang from. Always with seats for mums and dads, grandparents or older siblings. The whole town and its approach roads resound to the sound of kids enjoying themselves and sharing their excitement as loudly as they know how.

From 1900 the older kids are everywhere, some very, very much older ones, too. By the time we're back indoors, well, I'm on the balcony basking in the warmth of the streetlights. At first I couldn't believe how intense the lighting is after dark. We can close the curtains and still be able to see words on paper if not to read them fluently. There are metal roller shutters but then you wouldn't see the dawn. 

At night when so many are out and about the lighting makes sense. We have some very old street lights, tapered square prisms, like the old police station lamps but bigger and glazed in translucent white glass bolted to the house fronts. Along the road paired streetlights like we have at home, but brighter, light up all that the old lamps light and the road, prom and bit of beach. Nearer the beach are taller poles on which are fixed and correctly aligned spotlights which light up the prom, again, and the top of the beach. Consequently there are riders, skateboarders, bmx'r's, walkers, roller bladers, scooterers, strollers and just sitters out and about. There are footballers on the beach along with volleyballers, runners, bat and ballers and loads of people watching people. The whole town's lit like daylight, too.

I guess that saving on heating bills lets them spend the money on lighting but they could spend a bit more on domestic services, in my humble foreign opinion. We've had a kettle, newish looking, go "pop" but there was another in the spare room. We have a spare room but that's where the suitcases are. There's little room in here for them but don't misconstrue that as a complaint. It isn't. We've coped pretty well but one has to learn one's electrical limits. 

In our case three cooker rings and lighting but not the oven, or one cooker ring and oven but not two rings unless you turn off all non absolute essentials. We can do that as the light outside is enough. No boiling the kettle when cooking, either. If you need more you'll trip the electrics and then you need my mini maglite because you have to go down to reset the main consumer unit which is the one hanging on the wall suspended by a blue wire from a nail. Fortunately it's right by the entrance door so if it catches fire you're pretty much out already.  While you're at it you could mend the main fuse with a few more turns of copper wire and you may get another ring to work but don't turn the electric fire on till the cooking's done whatever you do!

Fortunately it's a common event and not simply our incompetence. At Church this morning we were plunged into darkness but no one was surprised, the glow of phones and tablets took over as Antonio got up, went out and pressed whatever button had to be pressed.

Interestingly, there was a very smart French couple in this morning and the minister simply spoke bits of French along with bits of English to keep us all in the loop. Some people are so able, the rest of us are just very grateful.

Photo 17: Who needs the light of the silvery moon when the electric lighting's as bright as this?

 

Photo 18:The blue wire wrapped in tape is supporting the consumer unit, the "main fuse" is on the letter box which is just inside the doorway. I was a little shocked to see it but once hesitatingly inserted and the green button pressed we had the power restored and tea followed shortly thereafter.