In common with many old Spanish houses in the countryside, ours was dug into the bank. This meant that when it rained, the back wall of the house would become damp. When it really rained, the wall would start oozing water and when the rain increased, a [...]]]> Diary of a Downshifter – Part 7 Downshifting to Spain

In common with many old Spanish houses in the countryside, ours was dug into the bank. This meant that when it rained, the back wall of the house would become damp. When it really rained, the wall would start oozing water and when the rain increased, a steady flow of water would flow through the wall, across the kitchen floor, through the dining and sitting rooms and finally exit in orderly fashion out of the front door. As the plumbing hadn’t yet been sorted out I suppose that it was a source of water but you don’t imagine this when you first view the house on a nice summers day. Anyway, we realised soon that the house needed digging out. Spain is full of JCB diggers rumbling around everywhere but of course when you need one… 

Over a week later we awoke to find a large yellow JCB parked on our land and about an hour later the owner arrived in his small white van to explain that he a just off to the bar for breakfast. Another hour elapsed and he re-appeared reeking of anise and we explained the task required but after less than 10 second he waived us away, mounted his steed and rumbled forward to the back of the house where his front tyre was immediately punctured by the spike of an agave plant. Off again in the van with the tyre in the back to get a repair and have his morning break from which he appeared an hour later reeking this time of brandy. During his next break, I determined to go with him. This time though, he actually managed to start digging into the ground and as the rain started again in earnest we hoped that he would get the job completed swiftly, but it appeared that that very thought prompted an avalanche of tomatoes to fall off a truck and block the track a few kilometres away, shortly after which the Civil Guard arrived and ordered him to go immediately and sort the situation out. It was several days later that he reappeared and for over an hour he regaled us with tales of the great tomato saga, and the water continued to flow from our front door. However, eventually, all ended well and within four or five days, we had a large gap between our house and the bank and the house began to dry out. Now we were able to really get to grips with the plumbing and continue with the bees. 

 so does everyone else. We were advised to leave a message at the bar Ortega in a nearby hamlet and wait.

Everything started out as it should have done. Antonio and Carlos picked me up an hour late and we went immediately to a bar for some fortification. Had I known how the rest of the night was going to pan out, I’d have had ten more and [...]]]> Diary of a Downshifter – Part 6 Downshifting to Spain

Everything started out as it should have done. Antonio and Carlos picked me up an hour late and we went immediately to a bar for some fortification. Had I known how the rest of the night was going to pan out, I’d have had ten more and stayed there.

To cut a long and painful story short, it soon became obvious that my colleagues were both theoretical beekeepers and knew nothing about any of the practical issues. They loaded the hives up without strapping them so that bees leaked in all directions; they didn’t do their protective clothing up and so were stung constantly; they used their smokers so frantically that blasts of flame were coming out of them which set fire to one of the hives and finally, the site which Antonio had chosen was on a near vertical slope down which we slipped, beehives and all. Finally Antonio decided on a new site which he reckoned would be perfect. It involved a stiff climb up rocks carrying the by now really angry bees in their leaky hives and finally, as dawn broke, we placed the hives on a rocky ledge sticking out from the side of a cliff. We sat down exhausted and looked at the sun rising over the sea in the distance. I said to Antonio that this was probably the worst site ever known for bees and his reply was, “yes David but just think of how much they will enjoy the view”! He had a point.

Life settled down after that into more of a routine and we began our dip into the world of DIY which lasted non stop for the next 13 years – and in fact still hasn’t stopped. The small house we lived in was very old and was once a typical Andalucian peasant’s cottage with all of the features that made them so pretty such as beams and alcoves. Ours however had been turned into a Costa del Sol villa with false arches and all of the nice beams and features covered with plaster board. The existing fireplace had been stripped out so there was no heating and the part of the roof that was flat had battlements put on it making it resemble  miniature castle. The drains from the bath required water to flow uphill and the septic arrangements were very septic. All had to change but firstly we had to find out how. The answer came in the form of ‘The Readers Digest Book of DIY’ which had been given to me by my father. It saved us and putting all our doubts aside, we started off wrecking the house. Annabel started it off. I was away beekeeping for the day and when I returned, it was to see the bath tub lying outside on the ground with a hole in the wall of the house where it had come out! No bath tonight I thought and I knew from then on that things would only become more painful. Our main requirement actually wasn’t the bath, but was to have the house dug out of the bank that it was set into so that water didn’t flow through the house when it rained. For this we needed the help of a digger and this in itself in that part of Spain where there were so many JCB diggers rumbling around is a story in itself.