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Wednesday 6th August 03 (Colleen)
Eager to set off on the last
leg, we were on the road soon after 8 am for the last leg of our 1,308 mile
journey. As we’d watched the lorries the night before, it would seem we
were to take our turn in the game of “Lorry Tag” as targets. The caravan
pulled slowly up the hills – Alan thought the trailer brake might even be
sticking at one point as the Laguna engine temperature gauge started going
into the red. Alan didn’t dare get stuck behind the lorries that were
trundling upwards as he was sure that if he slowed down, the car just
wouldn’t pick up any speed again. We developed a system: When he needed to
pull out, Alan would indicate left, I would then move the Vitara out into
the overtaking lane to slow up and block anything coming up from behind,
giving him the time to pull out. I don’t suppose it made us all that
popular, but it was the only way we could do it! Going downhill was another
matter entirely ... the lorries in Spain are fitted with a torque converter.
This allows them to race down the hills at incredible speeds – unlike Alan
who didn’t go out of third gear in case the caravan started moving of its
own volition and pushed the car down instead of being pulled. It was a
rather a fraught time, and we were glad when the worst of the hills were
over. Alan even found a way to Estación de Cártama
so that we didn’t have to go into Malaga which was
a great relief to me.
He left me waiting with the caravan while he went in the
Vitara to find the road to Cencerrita – we hadn’t ever been up this way,
only once had we come down from the house to Estación de Cártama – we had
always gone via Álora before. I sat down comfortably on the broad-bladed
grass in the shade of a small tree and watched the world go by. It was
siesta time and very hot - hardly anyone was out and about at this time,
which would be better for towing the caravan up the winding mountain road as
we were less likely to meet anyone coming the other way. After nearly two
hours, Alan came back saying he thought he had found the correct road ...
There had been many changes since January, most notably new houses where the
old road had been. I should have driven up in front of the Laguna to warn
any oncoming traffic, but as I didn’t know the way, Alan went first. It was
nerve-wracking to watch my temporary home swinging round the mountain bends
in front me as I followed behind. I confess I stopped and covered my face,
only peeping out between my fingers, when he came to the hairpin S-bend on a
steep section of road. In just a car, it’s fine. With a caravan it is a
little more difficult. When a lorry decides to come round the bend at the
same time, it is impossible. Fortunately the driver had seen Alan coming
and guessed he was going to have to take a wide swing, and managed to get
off onto the side of the road to let him by. The whole journey down, the
lorry drivers had been so courteous whereas the car drivers seemed to have
no idea of the complexity of towing a bulky, heavy trailer. Thank heavens
it was a lorry he met, not a car.
When it came to the turn off onto the track, instead of
giving the engine a bit more oomph, Alan hesitated ... There he was, stuck
on a narrow, steep bit of the track. On one side rock face and on the other
... well, not a lot really – just a great view! This mini nightmare was
happening in the heat of the day - 40o plus - All good Spaniards
were tucked up in their siestas having sweet, cool dreams. After some
discussion and attempting to give more purchase to the Laguna’s wheels (no,
Mum, I promise I did NOT try to push both the caravan and the car) we
realised the only way out was to try and swap the cars around and see if the
Vitara would tow the caravan in low 4x4 mode. Alan reversed the caravan
into the rock face so it couldn’t go anywhere while we unhitched the Laguna
and replaced it with the Vitara. I did mention that the Vitara was
behind and that the road was narrow? I think I also pointed out the
view that we had was downwards ... down a precipitous slope with nothing but
the odd almond tree to catch a falling car? It was a daunting moment but,
well, we’re here to tell the tale! Alan had never really driven the Vitara
before, so now was the time to begin: a hill mountain start with a
caravan in 4-wheel drive, to slip sideways meant certain disaster and
backwards was a sheer drop too. Having believed Vitaras were poser cars
“for mothers to take their children to school”, Alan was flabbergasted, and
thankful, at how splendidly the car performed. She pulled away with nary
a spin in the grit.
With no more problems, we covered the last miles to
Cencerrita. As we got to the chain gate to go onto our “driveway”, we left
the cars and caravan and walked the last bit to the house, double checking
that we’d get down okay. The parched undergrowth was above my waist, and a
few trees hanging low over the path needed trimming back a little. In spite
of the heat, we changed into long trousers and boots as various burrs and
grass seeds attacked us with a viciousness that belied their innocent
appearance. When we were ready, Alan left me at the house with the video
camera to record, for posterity, his grand arrival with the Vitara and
caravan team. Prudence dictated that the Laguna should be left at the top,
just in case we had a problem which left us with the caravan blocking our
exit.
I wandered back up the driveway a short distance as I had
spotted a steep bit with a sharp corner at the bottom which I thought would
be the perfect spot from which to video. I waited a little while before
starting the camera to give Alan time to get to the top of the drive and
start driving down. Various inane comments can be heard off-picture along
the lines of “Can’t see him yet” and “Where is he?”. The camera whirred for
a few minutes more before: “I wonder what’s happened”. Just as I moved
position, I sighted the top of the caravan coming over the ridge and start
its way down to my sentry post. Swaying alarmingly like a sailing boat
buffeted by the wind, I clutched the camera and found myself unable to give
a commentary of any sort. Realising he wasn’t going to stop just because I
was standing in the middle of the track with the camcorder, I leapt into the
scrub on the side, holding the camera aloft as if I’d taken a dive into
water. Like a true professional, I shrugged off the burrs and thistle
spines and continued recording the rear view of the caravan. Unlike a true
professional, I had not been keeping track of the remaining length of tape
left and I managed to run out of film just before Alan reached the house.
There was no time to hunt for a spare tape. Apparently he’d got stuck and
had needed my help getting out … what a pity I hadn’t been there with the
camera! Now Alan had driven right past the house and I had no idea where he
was going … I ran to see what he was up to.
 Alan had decided that we’d set the caravan up on the
south side of the house, at a right angle to the wall. A great idea –
though it was well nigh impossible to manoeuvre the twin-axle van through
the necessary degrees to the position we wanted. We used the car as much as
possible, but being in a corner with the opposite side being a steep drop,
we had to (wo)man-handle it ourselves. It was well over an hour later before
we were satisfied that the caravan was where we wanted and that there would
be ample room for the awning to go up, as well as sufficient space between
the van and the house as storage.
We were excited and eager to do things, but so exhausted
after 3 days’ efforts in the excessive heat, that we decided to call it a
day. The whole time we were just so thirsty and had drunk several litres of
water each. I looked in our store cupboard at our meagre rations. I had
hoped that we would find a little shop on the way where I could have picked
up some fresh supplies, but all we had was the food I’d purchased in
England. I opened the single tin of warm tuna left and scooped it onto some
equally warm bread and divided it between two plastic plates. Celebration
dinner at Cencerrita was served and enjoyed. Alan went to see if the house
shower worked while I made up the bed. When he hadn’t come back after a
while, I went to see if he needed a hand … I found him sitting on the edge
of the mini bathtub, leaning against the wall … fast asleep!
Thursday August 7th (Alan)
We had slept for just over 14 hours, but awoke early and
ready to attempt anything. Which was just as well as putting up the awning
taxed our patience to the very limit. Not only was it a windy day, but we
strongly suspect that the awning sold with the caravan was not the correct
size. The ground was so solid that most of the pegs bent as we tried to put
them in the ground – we gave up when the wretched thing blew on top of the
van. Not an auspicious start to our new lives!
Our food supplies were virtually non-existent - believe
it or not, tuna on bread was not our first choice of celebration dinner - so
we set off on a shopping trip to Malaga to visit Aki (a DIY store), Hipercor
and Carrefour (big hypermarkets that seem to sell everything). We took some
interesting routes trying to get to Hipercor, and so spotted a lot of useful
places on the industrial estates that we found ourselves unexpectedly
driving through. Just as well I was exploring and not lost ...
Colleen panicked when she discovered that the caravan
fridge was not working properly on gas – it was acting as a heater! How on
earth was she going to be able to give me my beer chilled to the degree I
like?
Friday 8th August (Alan)
Tackled the awning again and reset it. Solved the peg
problem: I drilled the ground with an SDS hammer drill, using the inverter
with the caravan battery for power, to make suitable holes for the pegs. It
worked a treat! Colleen cleaned kitchen thoroughly as, while it had been
empty for so long, geckos and beasties had taken up residence and left
rather a mess. The bathroom also needed a good scouring and I fitted a new
toilet isolation valve, so now we had the sheer luxury of a flush toilet.
We’d brought a 25 watt solar panel with us which I wired on roof terrace to
run the cool box and charge the caravan battery.
We went into Álora as we needed to collect the house
deeds to and our NIE numbers. Our abogado
(solicitor), Rafael, was not available when we
called in, but could see us later, just before lunch time. We found an
Internet café and were delighted to see that our online bank account showed
the money had been deposited from flat sale. Hooray! We transferred some of
it to our Spanish account, ready to pay off our Spanish mortgage.
When we got back to Cencerrita, we discovered that the
Spanish really knew what they were doing when they invented siestas. We
slept solidly for three hours – a very enjoyable first siesta, only let down
by the blast furnace temperature that greeted us as we stepped out the
caravan at 6 o’clock.
We waited for the cool of the evening, well cooler
anyway, before we walked around the perimeter of our land, some 28,000 sq
metres. Colleen was very anxious about the tremendous din the electricity
pylons made. These had been erected since our last visit in January that
year but it had never occurred to us that there would be a noise problem. As
we walked around, our dismay at the noise was tempered by the beauty of the
land and we tried hard to ignore it. Strangely, the sound often varied both
in pitch and vibrato. It did not matter how close nor how far away from the
pylons we were – the noise was always there. Slowly, it dawned on us ...
crickets and cicadas! Once the racket had been established as natural, there
were no more problems ... a sound from nature is more than acceptable! The
land survey carried out in the evening was done at very close range by
Colleen – at one point I heard a thud and turned to see her lying flat out
on her tummy looking at the ground a mere few inches from the soil. “These
boots” she complained mildly as she raised herself up on her feet again “are
far too big for me” I wasn’t worried, she could wear more socks ...
The feeling of owning this piece of mountain side is
incredible. Never had either of us imagined it would be possible.
Certainly we have a vast amount of work to do, but it is work for
ourselves, which makes a huge difference! |
