Month: September 2023

I know there are so many things in Spain guaranteed to frustrate and bewilder the average immigrant, mostly the bureaucratic system, or lack of it, and the difficulties in actually getting things done when people don’t actually turn up at all. However, life is generally still full of laughs here, or it’s certainly true if you know my husband!

He’s away at the minute, in Skopje, North Macedonia, for a dental appointment. Yes, you read that correctly, he’s away to our dentist in North Macedonia! Ivica is a first rate dental surgeon, with top quality equipment in his practice, and, after more than a year of research and video calling, that’s where we went to in order to have implants and porcelain and zirconia crowns at rates you simply wouldn’t believe.

Skopje is a beautiful city, in fact the whole country is stunning, divided into the new town and the old bazaar which is reached by crossing the Stone Bridge over the river.

Our friend Boris, in Almeria, comes from Skopje, so we were able to talk with him and his lovely Scottish wife Morag, all about the area, and then get to know his neice, Natasa, who lives in Skopje; we still keep in touch with her.

That huge statue right in the city centre is of Alexander the Great. His father was Philip ll of Macedon, so the Macedonians claim Alexander as one of their own. This doesn’t please the Greeks, who also claim him, and indeed they believe Macedonia is Greek too, which is why they insist on trying to use a more derogatory term for the country, as North Macedonia. There are a couple of things about this. Firstly the Greeks NEVER refer to the statue as Alexander, they simply call it the man, or the warrior, on a horse. Secondly, it seems to be Greece who is blocking North Macedonia’s application to join the EU. All very predictable in the normal way of politics where entrenched views rule the roost. It’s impossible to see a way forward if you are always looking behind you.

Anyhow, we were absolutely delighted with the standard of dentistry we received, and indeed, we have consulted with dentists here in Spain who have all agreed that the work has been top class.

So, recently, when Peter’s upper side bridge came apart, we checked prices here in Spain to repair, and compared them with him actually going back to Skopje, as the bridge was still under guarantee and he could also have a free check up while he was there.

Now, here’s the interesting part. On Monday he flew from Alicante to Copenhagen, and then on to Skopje. Lovely hotel in the city for a week. Impression taken on the Tuesday, new bridge made, to be fitted on Friday, checked on Saturday morning, then he comes home on Sunday. He flies from Skopje to Rome, then on to Alicante.

A fair old bit of travelling but well worth it. The whole trip, including four flights, the hotel and his “keep” for the week, cost about a quarter of what it would have cost to pay for the dental bridge repair here in Spain, so you can also imagine what it would cost in the UK! When he boarded the flight in Alicante he was allocated a window seat – not great fun when you’re 6’3″ and your knees almost come up to your ears in an aircraft seat! Before takeoff a cabin crew member told him she had a seat for him by an emergency exit, with extra legroom…result!

He was walking through the older part of the city yesterday, popped down a wee side streeet to see what was there, and through an open door saw a hairdresser doing a client’s hair. He stopped to say hello, (typical Peter!) then noticed they were both drinking something.The hairdresser gave him a drink too, it was the local rakija, a bit like Irish poitin but stronger! They chatted for a bit and then, as a thank you, he did a magic trick for them with playing cards! I have to say that my husband can travel the world making friends wherever he goes, as any of you who know him will agree!

I was able to very briefly join in for dinner last night by video link, as he went out with Natasa, her son, and his fiancee to one of our favourite restaurants, right in the square, beside the statue of Alexander.

I wish I had been there too but there was no point in spending the extra for me to go – that saving is reserved for a little pre-Christmas trip we have planned!

While still on the subject of laughter, here’s another incident which could very well be classed as a “Tena lady “moment. We always meet up for lunch with our friends David and Violet when they’re over on holiday in Guardamar. We were out with them a couple of weeks ago, and had a lovely catch up on all the family and friends news, as well as enjoying delicious food. Peter did some magic tricks with card for the owner, who had been looking forward to it, and she really enjoyed it – he’s really rather good!

While we were eating I accidentally knocked over my glass of water which spilled onto the table as well as the floor. The glass didn’t break, but there was a pool of water on the floor between us and the next table across. At that table were a grumpy-looking older man and woman, eating in silence. When I spilled my water, a couple of tiny wee drops managed to fly across the gap and the man started furiously wiping his elbow with his napkin, while muttering. I apologised to him in English. No response. I tried again, in Spanish, no response. I apologised again, in both French and German (I am definitely a woman of many talents, not just restricted to knocking things over!), no response. Not much else I could have done, really. Anyhow, no harm done the spilled water was wiped up and replaced. Then, about 15 minutes later, oh joy of joys, the grumpy skitter at the next table knocked his glass of water forward all over the table but, more importantly, ALL OVER HIS WIFE! Well, I just couldn’t look at Violet for fear of laughing out loud, but in fact we did just that, couldn’t help it! Oh my word, talk about instant karma! The wife shot a look in Violet’s direction as we nearly ended up under the table roaring with delighted laughter. Absolutely brilliant result, and it still makes me smile now when I think of it!

In about a week we have rather special guests coming to stay with us, and I’ll tell you all about them next time. Suffice to say it looks as though we might be speaking French all week, we’re looking forward to it. Find out all about it later!

Well, no, actually it’s not! It’s certainly a different life, and one of the things we keep needing to adapt to is the changing of the seasons. Anyone born and brought up in Northern Ireland will be aware that the difference between summer and winter there is that the rain is slightly warmer in the summer. Think I’m joking? I think not – it seems that this summer in NI was one of the wettest on record, very disappointing. However, over here we have had four different “olas de calor”, literally, heatwaves.

We can usually expect one or two, lasting a couple of days,when the temperatures in the shade can easily top 40C, but four heatwaves was too many for most. Unbearably hot, difficult to breathe in such loaded air, and difficult to keep cool either during the day or at night. Thank goodness for aircon in the bedroom – we’d never have been able to sleep otherwise.

I’m currently waiting, with more than a little trepidation, for my appointment with the consultant about my poor wee arthritic knees. Apparently it’s likely I’ll need cortisone injections, I don’t care what they do as long as I’m able to walk, run and cycle again! We are very fortunate with our health service here in Spain, as we can go online and get an appointment with the GP for the next day. Hospital appointments are never too long to wait for either. I know a lot of the Spanish people take out private medical insurance as well as having state healthcare, but I’m really not too sure it’s always worth it. I rememeber when we both had private healthcare, before we were eligible to access the state service, and Peter had some tests done including various X-rays, when he was suffering from dreadful sciatica. We had to go to the consultant in Almeria city, when we were living in that province, and it was a 250km round trip by car.. Same thing when we went to collect the results – except Peter got a message to say he could pick up the results in the bakery shop next door to the consultant’s office, as the consultant himself would not be there that day! And yes, we DID collect the big envelope from the bakery….you couldn’t make it up!

Here’s another thing about the health service in Spain….Peter needed an eye test as he was a bit bothered about his eyesight. An appointment was swiftly arranged with the consultant at the local specialist department in the city, and off we went.

The consultant was a woman about the same age as me, very efficient, if a bit brusque. The whole appointment was, of course, carried out in Spanish, and she obviously preferred her patients to talk in bullet points, if at all, and that’s stictly NOT the husband’s modus operandi!

Anyhow, she was very thorough, and told him he needed glasses for long sight as well as for reading. She said he could get varifocals or two different pairs, the main difference being that varifocals cost considerably more. Then, with Peter’s chin still resting on the ledge thingy of the testing equipment, she looked at me, nodded in his direction and said, in perfect English, “Very handsome man!” Well, I nearly fell off my chair, and she repeated it, and we both couldn’t help laughing! Imagine if that happened in “woke” UK?! I just agreed with her, she was right!

This came up in my memories on Facebook recently, and as I thought it was a perfect example of how random my life is here in Spain, I thought I’d share it with you. Not too long ago I fancied a little something sweet after dinner, as you do. The husband suggested we have a bit of shortbread. “Shortbread? We haven’t got any shortbread”, I told him. “Yes we do”, he said, “it’s in the Biscuit Cabinet”. The BISCUIT CABINET!?!??! WE HAVE A FLIPPING BISCUIT CABINET AND NOBODY TOLD ME?!?!!? Turns out it’s the CUPBOARD  where he keeps his revolting home-made muesli stuff, cardboard flavoured with beetroot, probably, as well as some very strange looking pasta and other healthy stuff like lentils. The shortbread was perfectly safe in there as I would never, ever in a million years have thought there was anything worth eating in that cupboard. Three lessons learned – 1) the husband is very good at hiding stuff, 2) we seem to have a cabinet, not a cupboard. A bit like the Prime Minister really. 3) We ate too much dinner and shortbread and felt a bit sick! I found a tiny wee bit of our friend Anna Bedford’s beautiful homemade frozen flavoured vodka hidden in the freezer that day (I can hide things too!) so we had a wee sip of that before bed. Life is good, amigos, life is good… and also a lot of fun!

I am definitely not too computer savvy and usually I am amazed when I manage to put together one of these blog posts without making too many mistakes, but there are times when I just want to cry and chuck the whole machine out of the window.

Yesterday was one of those days. I have no idea what I did but when deleting some redundant inbox messages I hit something I shouldn’t have, and managed to delete everything that had ever been there. Well, it told me I had deleted 3,743 messages from my inbox. I didn’t even know there were that many there, though it seems they were also from my deleted and junk storage, which I was sure I cleared regularly. I had no idea what to do until I spotted a wee note that said “restore messages”. Hooray! I hit the button, and 4,397 messages appeared?! Oh good grief I had to go through every flipping one and delete what I didn’t want. Managed that with a couple of breaks so my eyesight didn’t end up the same as the husband’s. Then…guess what? Hit the wrong bleeping button again, back to square one. Shoot me now. I’m sure there’s an easier way to sort this stuff but I ploughed on and got the right things back to where they should be. I don’t think I’ve lost anything vital as I keep important stuff in folders, separately from inbox things. Never again, please, never again!

We went to Alcantarilla recently, a town about 10 minutes the other side of Murcia city. We were looking for a particular shop – mission accomplished and bank account considerably lighter! We had a look online for somewhere to have a bite of lunch, and the husband found a restaurant called La Cava de Royan. It opens up from a small street onto a little square, and you’d never guess the quality of food just by looking at the outside! We had a mouthwatering selection of tapas, including little bites of succulent cod, enormous prawns in panko crumbs, skewers of the most tender pulled pork with crispy broccoli, mini pork burgers, and all accompanied by a fabulous variety of sauces like chilli mayonnaise, and honey mustard. The presentation and service were fantastic too!

We ate until we could eat no more, and the bill, including drinks came to under €30, so it’s safe to say we’ll be back.

Finally for now, we have some special guests coming to stay in a couple of weeks, I’ll tell you more about that later!

What’s this about then?! One of the potential downsides of moving abroad, and how to stop it! Jealousy has frequently been referred to as the “green-eyed monster” thanks to quotes from The Merchant of Venice, and Othello.

It’s also said, in the Bible, that the love of money is the root of all evil. I disagree, I think jealousy holds that prize. It seems that all the problems on this planet are a result of jealousy, between countries, teams, individuals or whatever. It’s the latter I’m interested in today, since this is where most of us experience being on the receiving end.

The point of this is that jealousy is something that many ex-pats may have to face at some stage or another. It can really be a major issue for a lot of people, and can make or break your comfort in settling in to a new area where you really don’t know anybody.

I have spoken to plenty of people who have expressed dismay at finding out that some they thought were friends have turned out to be jealous of them, for whatever reason, and who have now turned against them. There’s something rather “school playground” about this, isn’t there?

As I wrote in an earlier post, you can be friendly with people you have only met recently, on moving to another country, but you don’t know their history, their previous experiences, their modus operandi and so on. Thus it is prudent not to ever give too much of yourself all at once. There is a chance that some will spot your vulnerability or weak points and try to use this against you, in an attempt to make themselves feel better about their own situation. This is particularly evident given the rise of social media, the ideal way to spread gossip, rumours and lies about anyone.

There will always be someone taller, shorter, fatter, thinner, richer, poorer than you. There’s no point in envying what someone else has if you’re not prepared to do something about your own situation. We know of people whose houses appear to be illegal, who have ongoing feuds with neighbours, who are under retirement age and possibly resent having to work when others are happily retired early. Oh yes, and then there was the couple we befriended and helped out with things like showing them how to clean their pool. The wife didn’t actually like her husband, and seemed to prefer mine! More than once,while under the influence, she announced to all and sundry that she thought my husband was “drop dead gorgeous” and she really believed she “could have a chance with him”. Not in her wildest dreams, but it gave many of us a good giggle! However she subsequently did her best to malign and libel me on local forums. The answer? Advise her of the law regarding libel and malicious damage to reputation. She gave up after that. Oh yes, and lay very low on local forums, they tend to be a hotbed of nasty gossip!

It’s easy to see where resentment can escalate to dizzying heights, to the extent that nasty and childish comments are made about others who the miserable ones believe to be more fortunate. There’s no point losing sleep over this kind of person, or working yourself into a frenzy wondering what you have “done wrong” to elicit this kind of nasty response. You haven’t done anything, you need to remember that it’s their problem, not yours, and ignore it. We are very lucky as we have a fully legal house owned outright, we have a good income without having to work, we have a strong relationship and we have wonderfully kind and helpful neighbours. And yes, we do count our blessings, every day, while ignoring those who spread silly nonsense. As they say, a lion doesn’t concern itself with the opinion of sheep!

We have also experienced this in the past, and have learned to simply walk away. Happy people don’t treat others badly, so when someone behaves in this way it’s because they are unhappy and jealous, and they seem unable to accept responsibility for themselves.. Remember, whatever they say is a reflection of themselves and has nothing to do with you. We just feel sorry for them and move on. Life is too short to waste time seeking approval from others. Just be aware that, particularly for ex-pats, jealousy tends to rear its ugly head from time to time. Protect yourself by deciding to have no truck with it…but don’t let it stop you from making new friends!

And now for something completely different….food again! One of the best restaurants we’ve been to in Spain is in Elda, and is called Restaurante Magico Campico. It is an amazing experience not to be missed! The owner’s father built the interior by had, wanting to create a very magical, “other world” experience, and he certainly succeeded, as you can see from the photos.

The food is exquisite, everything freshly prepared, imaginative, exciting, beautifully presented, and tastes of heaven…I could go on forever! This restaurant is a real feast for the eyes as well as for the palate, and is less than an hour away from us. I know I might be overloading you with photos but I want you to get a real feel for the place. If you’re looking for a traditional menu del dia then this is not the place, the costs reflect the standard of cuisine so be prepared to dig a little deeper than usual. Let’s be honest – we know people who will travel to historic cities for a couple of day’s break but will choose to eat in fast food places like Burger King, so this restaurant is probably not for them! The basic menu del dia starts at €40 per person and goes up to €60 per person, but oh my word it’s worth every cent!

They cater for special occasions like weddings and family celebrations, and they promise to make your whole dining experience something to remember…and return to again and again! Do yourselves a favour and check out their website at http://www.campico.es for photos, videos and menus. For those of you living anywhere within striking distance of Elda, make a reservation now!

Just to make you laugh, since moving to Spain we’ve come up against a couple of foods we wouldn’t choose to ever eat again. Peter will eat everything except snails and mushrooms. We were at our favourite local restaurant recently and he wasn’t sure what one of the starters was, it was listed as a rustic gazpacho, so he decided to have something different and try it. Yep, you guessed it, snail casserole! He really tried valiently to manage but in the end he had to tell the waiter he couldn’t eat it. To their credit, and because we are regular customers, the snails were removed and he was served something much more palatable – and there was no charge for the extra starter either!

In another place we were sampling the tapas and I asked a passing waiter what was on the plate he was taking to another table. I couldn’t understand a word of what he was saying but it looked like pork pieces so I asked “cerdo?” to which he replied “si”. When it arrived I thought it both looked and tasted a bit gelatinous and after a couple of mouthfuls I had to admit defeat. When I got home I looked up what I’d been eating – pigs’ ears. Good grief, pigs’ ears! Never again – the Spanish are known for eating every part of the pig except the squeal, but the ears, trotters and tails are OFF my menu!

Spain is infamous for its love of bureaucracy, especially where government departments are concerned. You can wait a lifetime waiting for an appointment for some simple task like a change of address, only to find that in spite of bringing every official document with you, something is missing, usually a DNA test, pound of flesh or your first born child. Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration but it’s actually not too far off the mark. I was waiting for a parcel to arrive from the U.S., and I got the registered notice to inform me that the Correos/Aduanas (Post office and Customs) were holding the parcel until I completed the relevant forms – which had to be returned within 5 days.

On receipt, the customs people would send the parcel to the Correos in Fortuna where I could pay the tax and fee, and receive the goods. Not much of a problem, you might think? The first hurdle was trying to get access to the website to provide the information they needed. I tried everything I could think of, including asking a gestor / paralegal, and a lawyer, all of whom were willing but unable to help. When I clicked on the website button to ask for help the website stated “Problemas technicos”. I don’t think I need to translate that one!

Finally, my wonderful friend Clare Shirley* managed to crack the code, complete the forms and get the information away to the customs people. We got an email saying the information had been accepted by the department, followed by an other email saying we had run out of time?! I sent off a swift complaint advising we were well within the time limit and they should forward the parcel to the local Correos office.

Now we wait. I cannot for the life of me understand why these government departments make it so difficult to access what you need. Surely it would make more sense to send the parcels to the local Correos office, only to be released when ID has been provided and the fees paid? Good grief, it’s not exactly rocket science!

I promise, this YouTube video is EXACTLY what it’s like, at least 90% of the time!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2wtbQUaC9mE

Last “B” word today is for the dreaded Brexit. I think it should have been properly called “Ukexit” as it is supposed to be the UK’s withdrawal from the EU. As most people (with one or two exceptions) are aware, Northern Ireland is still part of the UK, so it shouldn’t really be “Britain’s exit from the EU”. However, Northern Ireland is still in the EU single market, which means we can bring goods to and from Spain with no import requirements, and no taxes or fees. So, more importantly, when we go there to see family and friends, we can shop for Marks and Spencer’s foodie goodies, including proper NI butter, and bring it back to Spain with no problems. For smokers and drinkers, the customs limited allowances don’t apply, basically you can bring back as much as you like, and even though customs set guidelines, the onus is on them, not you, to prove the goods are for your personal use.

Many people we have spoken to here have admitted that, in spite of having voted in favour of Brexit, they now wish they had voted against it. It seems we were all, as usual, lied to again and again, so were unable to make a truly informed decision. It is, of course, still possible to emigrate to an EU country, but it is more difficult due to the paperwork/visa requirements, and it is also now far, far more expensive, requiring applicants to have many thousands of euros in the bank. Those UK home countries who voted to remain in the UK remind me of the joke – an English man, a Welsh man, a Scottish man and a Northern Irish man went into a pub. The English man wanted to leave, so they all had to go. Sigh.

A while back I had a wee slip and ended up with a bit of a problem. It was only then that I realised how debilitating it is when part of you stops working, and how creative you have to be to work around it!

I’m not ancient, I’m not decrepit, I wasn’t drinking, and I do generally look where I’m going but occasionally an uneven surface will catch out most of us! When I broke my ankle my lovely neighbour lent me her husband’s zimmer frame (fortunately he didn’t need it at that time) so I could get around the house easier with plaster of paris up to my knee. Getting round the house was easy, especially when Peter pushed me about on the wheelie computer chair. Showering? That was a different matter altogether!

So, in case you might need it in the future, here is my advice on how to have a shower with a broken ankle:
1. Get into shower cubicle.
2. Drag zimmer into shower after you.
3. Realise you’ve been so busy positioning the zimmer that you forgot to take your clothes off.
4. Take off clothes and start again.
5. Hook left leg (with broken ankle) over the top of the zimmer.
6. Realise you look like an advert for Readers’ Wives or Gynaecology magazine, start to cry.
7. Turn on shower, alternatively scalding and freezing your skin.
8. Bend over, balancing carefully, to reach shower gel, realising you look like an advert for an even more specialist magazine. Cry some more.
9. Load sponge with shower gel, slather on body…where you can reach with one leg up and the good leg bent at the knee.
10. Realise that rinsing is going to be no fun at all….keeping left leg hooked over the zimmer in a vain attempt to keep the plaster dry, start to rinse off shower gel.
11. Notice that bandage round plaster of paris is drenched so aim to exit shower as quickly as possible.
12. Fling the zimmer out and hop after it.
13. Give up idea of washing hair in shower and head for the bath to lean over it instead.
WHAT I HAVE LEARNED…….if I lived on my own I’d just stay dirty until the bleeping plaster came off.

Our lovely wee family has now gone home to Northern Ireland and, happily, to some very fine weather indeed. It seems Marshall was a big hit at school, having brought in a mummified corpse of a little gecko he found in our garage, a poor little thing only about two inches long from the tip of its nose to the tip of its tail. He also brought some fossils he found in the garden – our garden is obviously a great place for budding Indiana Joneses! Lucy had a swimming class at school and not impressed as she had forgotten the classes only last 25 minutes – she’d got used to being in the pool with us all day here!

The house is so, so quiet without Laurie and the children here, and I miss them very, very much. However, we are going over in November and probably again in March or thereabouts, so it’s something to really look forward to. There’s no denying that it is difficult living far away from the people you love, but it’s still only a short flight away so we make the most of it.

We’re now starting to think about the slow slide into autumn and winter, and I’m beginning to look forward to it. We have plenty of logs left over from last winter but will order a big load more from Angel and that will last us through until spring. Though we’re looking forward to cosy days and nights with both the big log fires going, we’re not yet quite ready to let go of summer. Plenty of days left for enjoying the sun and spending lazy afternoons in the pool with a nice cold glass or two of cava.

Cheers!

*Clare is fluent in Spanish and is very well versed in the vagaries of Spanish bureaucracy. She knows where and who to contact if you need help with issues such as applying for residencia, visa problems, driving licence requirements, and a host of other problems thrown up by the weirdly outdated systems here. You can contact Clare via her Facebook page which is “Clare’s Solutions”, or message me and I will forward your details to her. You don’t even have to live in the same area, we’re now about 160kms from Clare since we moved to Murcia, but she’s still been able to help me with the hateful customs and correos problem!

I thought the title might grab your attention, more of that later! We are currently being very patient waiting for the rain to move on and away – we have a day or so of it to look forward to, and it’s very welcome. Not always so welcome for holidaymakers though, they need to find other distractions if it’s too wet and a bit on the chilly side. Happily we should be back to normal sunshine and blue skies in a matter of hours, although we have really needed some rain after a very dry and hot few months.

Speaking of holidaymakers, one of the difficulties of moving to another country is leaving family and friends behind, and the feeling is multiplied by squillions when we have children and grandchildren elsewhere.

My daughter and children are over on holiday with us at the minute and our normally quiet and peaceful house is now filled with the laughter and chatter of tiny wee voices, usually all at once! The children have been so excited about coming here again, they have spent almost every waking hour in the pool having a great time, and, as always, it is an utter joy to have them with us.

Spot the difference in the two photos, no prizes for guessing how excited they were to get here to us and the pool!

However, I now feel the strongest pull towards home, to spend far more time with them. That’s why we are lucky to be able to plan ahead to eventually sell this big house and buy two smaller ones, in Spain and in Northern Ireland, so we can hop back and forth as the notion takes us. If you’re thinking of emigrating, be aware that the pull home is strongest when little people are concerned!

We have a rather lovely celebration coming up, it’s our wedding anniversary on 4th September. Since the grandchildren are here they are going to help make a big cake for everyone to share, multi-coloured and with lemon drizzle icing – well that’s their choice!

Our wedding was in Gibraltar, far less paperwork required than holding it in Spain. Our two best friends in Spain were unable to come to be our witnesses, due to illness. We were a bit stuck, and didn’t want to just arrange for people on the street to come in case they forgot – we’d have missed our slot and would have had to start again! So… as I used to write a page for the Local Women monthly magazine I thought the best idea might be to ask fellow writers for help. I emailed the Gibraltar Chronicle, their daily newspaper, explaining our dilemma and asking for suggestions. One of their top journalists volunteered, along with the paper’s award-winning photographer, who kindly provided all our wedding photographs free! What a result, and how lucky were we! We had a lovely lunch at the marina, all in all a few great days away.

After all of that, and the great photos we were given, my favourite is this one, taken by Peter, of the new Mr and Mrs Kopczynski. It was great fun, and now we’re lucky enough to be celebrating our anniversary with Laurie and the children, and a multi-coloured lemon drizzle cake!

Okay, so back to “Who let the dogs out?!” One of the more difficult things about living in Spain is their attitude towards animals, and dogs in particular. You can divide this approach into two main areas – dogs kept as pets, and dogs for hunting and guarding. It is a continual complaint from non-Spanish (and by that I mean mainly English speaking people) that dogs are all too often left alone for long periods, or chained up, or left to bark incessantly. Well I have bad news for all you dog lovers out there, all of the above is true. It is mainly in the campo, or countryside, that you will see dogs mistreated like this. Near us is someone who keeps 11 dogs, yes, ELEVEN. We’re not sure why he thinks he needs so many, but most are let out to run around between the house and the front gates. However, two German Shepherds are chained to a long rope running up a very steep slope of about 30 metres, and they are never, ever let loose. They all also bark at all times of the night, all through the night, setting off every other dog within a 5km radius – thank goodness for efficient double-glazing! One other dog near us is kept in a large cage, permanently, which hangs off the side of the hill. In the almost 5 years we’ve been here that dog has never been out of the cage. Absolutely awful. The government is now bringing in legislation to help protect animals like this, and will be “live” from the end of September. There will be a lot of requirements for the owners, such as neutering, insurance cover etc, so it might mean a glimmer of hope for the dogs. Or, being Spain, it might not. I also simply can’t understand how people can let their dogs bark all through the night without ever going out to see what they’re barking for, and how on earth do they sleep through that racket?! The main offenders are a couple of hundred metres away from us and still manage to wake us!

It’s actually not too dissimilar with dogs kept as pets. So many people seem happy to let their dogs run wild, chew everything in sight, both inside and outside the house, jump up on you and so on. We always had dogs at home, gun dogs and pets, and were always very well trained. Not so here in Spain in many cases! Why they don’t bother to train them properly is anybody’s guess, laziness, perhaps, or a general “don’t care” attitude. I’ve not even touched on the people running the dog rescues – they help out when dogs are abandoned by their owners, but it takes, time, human hours, and a lot of money to keep these places running. It really is a bit of a problem and we’re glad to see the law will now be making owners far more responsible for their animals who have often been condemned to a miserable life.

In spite of it all Spain is a very good place to be and we’re stil glad we’re here!