Saturday, September 29, 2018

The Magic Roundabout

Mojácar is known as a refuge for artists. These days, the shine may have worn off this idealistic statement, what with control of the local culture being firmly in the hands of the mojaqueros, who often feel that foreign artists are all a bit pretentious and anyway, coño, it's our town to do with as we see fit.
So, tiptoeing past the astonishing municipal art gallery with one enormous room blessed with an entire wall of windows, past the exotic one-legged stainless steel figure at the Fuente roundabout - once around no touchee - we hurry down towards the beach to be met with another roundabout, this time designed to look like the top of a box of childproof aspirins adorned with a (patented) Drunken Indalo that stares firmly towards Garrucha, from whence come the innocent visitors to our fair resort, all ready to empty their pockets in our tasteful souvenir shops while filling our narrow ill-planned beach avenue with their vehicles - at least during the short season that makes up our current attempt to be 'the most beautiful pueblo in Spain': for family-oriented tourism anyway. 
Returning to the delightful roundabout, which used to have a complicated system designed to throw water into the air in a riot of changing colours, something which proved to much of a strain on the pumps (no doubt supplied by a local ferretería, of which, the less said the better) that they soon gave up the unequal struggle and a fellow from the Town Hall was encouraged to supply an easier low-maintenance design.
Incorporating a gift from Cosentino (the marble people from Macael), the eighth wonder of the world was duly completed as described above. But, and here's the rub, it went a fraction over budget. What should have cost (an appalling) 27,800 euros eventually came in at a mind-numbing 44,000 euros.  The Town Hall approved the extra cost in a plenary session this past Thursday. 

Saturday, September 22, 2018

Just Sayin'

A long time in bed, as I nurse a broken ankle. The public hospitals here in Spain are good (I lost my private health insurance along with my late wife Barbara's years back after being ripped off and left without a bean by some vulgar yahoos). What in America would have cost the earth - enough X rays to make me glow in the dark, a trip in an ambulance, an operation on my ankle with a plate and nine screws, two casts so far and more excitement still to come - here is free.
A bit boring though.
I lie in my cot, reading - Rafael Sabatini at the moment - and play around on the Android, posting rubbish on Facebook and looking up obscure facts on Wikipedia. 
Goofing off, but careful with my leg: the only movement a regular trip in my wheelie-chair to the bathroom.
Next week, I'll be a bit more mobile, and will return to writing my newsletter about Spain - Business over Tapas.
Funny, I always say that September is my favourite month.