Late last night, approaching midnight, a small truck trundled along the Calle behind the house loaded with straw. Reaching the Lavadero/fountain, it discovered it was unable to proceed further and then had to attempt a very tight, difficult about-turn before again negotiating its way back along the Calle. Even in a car this is a tight, fraught journey. God knows what it must have been like in the truck. To make a turn it had to be reversed downhill in darkness, on fairly steep incline. I could hear its tyres slipping, failing to grip the concrete surface. Needless to say, its load then slipped back and partly fell from the thing into the street. It provided many of the locals with an interesting diversion from dreadful, Friday night telly! (Although, having said that, I did watch an excellent and fascinating programe about Black Bears on BBC2 yesterday evening, myself – I’m interested in Bears generally after our time living in bear-country in northern Sweden):
Not very useful (but up to my normal photographic standards, I feel) pic of the turning place and the labouring truck
Passing the house, along Calle, with only half a load remaining on its back
From the racket made on its return leg, it took about 30 to 40 minutes to get clear of the street and out of earshot! Must have been a bit of a relief for the driver when he reached the old square/Plaza Viecha at the end of the Calle.
The action even managed to get Charlie up on his haunches, and interested/curious:
As it’s holiday-time/August, the Brits are here in some numbers: most evenings as I sit on the roof terrace I hear them wittering to themselves as they pass below clutching their state-of-the-art, digi-cameras. Why is it that Brits always seem to stick-out from the crowd? Even when they are roaming with lots of local Spaniards around, they are still almost immediately recognisable. Maybe it’s the shorts or som’at. I, too, am no doubt branded in the same way, but now known to the immediate locals as a sort of resident. In the old days one of the identifying features was the love of the Panama hat: now, however, many locals have similar headgear. The GP/Medico must have warned them all about sunstroke/melanomas or the likes, cos most wear straw hats when out and about:
This lot arrived at the Fuente while typing this. Almost all hatted.
I have a suspicion it must be a fete day in the village, something that has totally passed me by. I can now hear the church bells banging and clanging, and there are hordes of Spanish family groups wandering around taking pix and gabbling noisily as they promenade past the house heading for the campo/hills! There’s also lots of cars appearing and optimistically looking for parking space around and about! May be a good day to keep the head down with a book, although August is the main month for Fiestas here and so it might pay off to visit the village centre instead.
I’ll let you know……..
Wasn’t that a great kids (!??) prog? Never bettered…..never missed it when LVP was a young’un!