Ah Spain, the country where having a lisp is a positive speech advantage, and our home for the next 2 weeks. There are 6 of us in a villa in the mountains just North of Malaga (could I sound any more middle class?). Let me introduce you to my cohorts (good word Andrew, well done). First there is Karen; the current Mrs Fenner, gazelle girl, you all know her. My big sister Nikki; Optician and keen cook. The only person I know who goes over her baggage weight allowance due to the fact that she brings her own BBQ tools. Our friends Rachel and Tibu. They live in Southport where Rachel is a practice manager at a GP’s and Tibu the manager of a local, top restaurant. There is also Nico their son, who is slowly realising that his parents have been training him for the last 16 years to be a waiter as all we seem to say him is ” Nico, can you get me another drink please? Nico can you just fetch me the sun cream?”
We arrived at our Vila that we found on owners direct, which is one of those places where people will happily (for money) let you come and stay in their holiday homes. It’s a bit like “May the best house win” but without the tv cameras, and none of us have asbo’s. We’ve stayed in a few of these over the years, but not one like this. When we booked it we nicknamed it Southfork as it reminded us of Dallas. We now just call it “wow”.
When we arrived we all went “wow”:
Karen “wow look at that pool”;
Tibu “wow look at all those orange and olive trees in the grounds”;
Nik “wow look at BBQ”;
Rachel “wow look at that decor”.
Me and Nico “wow look at that wifi” (and let’s not forget the Sky Sports. I don’t even get that at home!).
When had got over the wow effect, the hard work of getting the “big shop” in commenced. We eventually (that’s another story) ended up at Planet Carrefour (I think it’s called that as it has a series of moon shops around it which appear to sell the same stuff that you can get in Carrefour but in boutiques instead of in aisles). I do like a trip to a European hypermarket. I like the fact they have their own climate, they are so big that you can usually find birds nesting in the toilet roll aisle and they sell car tyres. This seems uniquely European. I have to admit that I have not been asked to pop down the shops for a loaf of bread some milk and new front near side tyre for a Renault Clio, but here that must be the case.
I also love the price of the wine. Somebody at work once told me that for every bottle of wine you buy at least £5.00 goes on tax. (He was very middle class). I don’t buy many bottles of wine more than £5.00 so effectively the tax man owes me money. I feel that if more people bought cheap wine we would soon smash the tax system or at least an ornament or two at the end of the evening. Now when I buy cheap wine it usually tastes significantly cheaper than it costs. When Tibu buys cheap wine it tastes like it cost significantly more than £5.00. I am leaving all alcohol purchasing to him, it’s safer…or maybe not. We still might have to keep clear of the ornaments at the end of the evening in the wow villa.