Out and about

This morning, instead of the baying of the dogs, we have the rather more plangent sound of the pool being dredged with the outsized net capturing all the pine debris that accumulates over time.  From the starter chopstick-like needles to the disturbingly larvae-like seeds it is all cleared away and with random handfuls of god-knows-what chemicals the pool is pristine for a few hours until various unsavoury bodies immerse themselves in the limpid waters.

Our visit to Sitges will afford an opportunity for Paul 1 to get himself a pseudo-identity card to replace the need to carry his passport to act as surety for his cards.

One of the few tangible benefits to emerge from my stay in The School That Sacked Me was one of my excellent colleagues telling me that she had an official-looking card made from a colour photocopy of a couple of pages in her passport.  I have used the resulting card to accompany all my bankcard transactions and, generally, it is accepted as proof of identity. 

I do also have a tattered A4 page of Spanish manufacture which gives my Spanish identity number.  This is also accepted, but each time I unfold it, it gets a little nearer to total disintegration – and I have no idea how to replace it.  And, as this is part of the Madrid government’s paper chain I shudder to think of the bureaucracy involved in its replacement.  The only document I have which is in an even worse state than my Spanish identity paper is my driving licence which is in such a poor condition that even the DVLC made an attempt to stick the thing together again on one occasion with official document quality Sellotape!

Sitges seemed to be hotter than Castelldefels, though that might have been because we were on a beach protected from breezes and unwelcome gusts.  The sea was a calm as a swimming pool and the water, therefore, clear.  There is a long walk through shallow water until you are out of your depth – but with such a shallow shelving seabed the water is pleasantly warm.

Lunch was not the disaster of our last foray into restaurant meals.  This was in our sure and dependable restaurant to which we always go in Sitges and for the princely sum of €9 we had an excellent three-course meal.  The wine was red, but in an open bottle without a label and was suspiciously “light” – but at the price who could complain!

Our return home was the excuse for a siesta and our waking was an excuse to indulge in our berating of the excesses of the neighbours!  A summer-long hobby!