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Our Andalucian paradise

My husband and I had lived in Mexico City, LA, Paris, Guadalajara, Oslo, Montreal and Vancouver. On a rainy November night we moved to a small town an hour inland from Malaga. 'Our Andalusian paradise' is about the historical town of Ronda, the mountains that surrounds it, the white villages dotted amongst them, of hikes, donkey trails and excursions around Andalucía and journeys further afield.

Here comes the gas man!
Thursday, August 31, 2023


Rafa, el bombonero. Photo © Karethe Linaae

If you believe you have a tough job, think again. One of the most demanding occupations here in Spain must be to deliver the gas bottles to the country’s homes and businesses. I had a chat with our local bombonero and discovered that he lifts close to 10,000 kg – per day! 
 

In almost every Spanish neighbourhood you know when el Repartidor de Butano is on his way. First, you hear the honking or beating on metal when they announce their arrival, and then the rattling from the truck as el butanero or el bombonero as the locals here call them, drive around to deliver the easily recognizable orange gas bottles simultaneously as they pick up the empties that residents leave outside their front doors.

Just like people in other parts of Europe got coal and firewood delivered to their homes in the old days, most of the Spanish population still receive gas on their doors – unless they live in a modern complex where the gas is supplied directly via pipes into the building. For us Scandinavians who associate gas with BBQs, cottages, and camping, it is a bit surprising to realize that gas is still delivered by hand to Spanish households. The tradition started under Franco when a state-owned gas company had a monopoly. And even if the gas companies now have steep competition from other energy sources, los bomboneros are still an important part of the Spanish streetscape.


Deliveries in every street and alley. Photo © Karethe Linaae


45 % of the Spanish population – or more than 8 million households – still used gas for heating and cooking in 2020. The main reason is that gas is cheaper than electricity. Gas prices fluctuate amongst others due to transportation fees, crude oil prices and world events, and in the past decade, the price tag for a bombona has varied from ten to almost twenty euros. Some might have reservations about having something that explosive in our homes, but for people around here, that’s what people are used to.

The approximately 65 million gas bottles the Spaniards consume yearly are filled with liquid petroleum gas (LPG) or natural gas of either butane or propane. Most of the gas comes from the multinational Spanish company Repsol, which is the country’s biggest supplier with more than 2000 employees just delivering gas bottles all over Spain.

This not-very-enviable job is one that most of us simply couldn’t handle, if nothing else, due to the weight. So, who are these tough guys who pick up gas canisters like they were a litre of milk?


Rafael Dominguéz Naranjo. Photo © Karethe Linaae


Meet Rafa, el bombonero

Rafael Dominguéz Naranjo (48) is almost like an institution in the town of Ronda. Everybody knows him and expects his truck to come by every single tiny alley in each neighbourhood three times per week. I always look upon him with a mixture of awe and amazement when he picks up a gas bottle from the open truck, brings it straight up over the guard rail and onto his shoulder – hour after hour, day by day, in the frying Andalusian summer heat and howling winter storms. And if that isn't enough, Rafa is always smiling and friendly and even helps bring the monster inside the house should one need it. Despite the demands of the job, their salary is barely 10 euros per hour (June 2023), so a generous tip is not just good manners, but both well-deserved and should almost be obligatory!

One day I asked Rafa if I could interview him.

-Why on earth would you want to talk to me, he asked surprised, and based on his reaction I can guarantee that not a living soul have shown any kind of interest in his occupation before. I explained to him that his job is quite unique for many foreigners because in some countries (like my native Norway) people generally do not use gas in their homes. So, with a shy smile, he agrees that yes, he will share his story.

Rafa started as a bombonero when he was 19 years old, and besides a few months in construction, he has delivered gas bottles ever since – soon 30 years!

-In the winter I deliver between 180 and 200 bottles per day, but in the summer when we sell less, I only deliver 90-120.

-Only, I exclaim, and he shrugs his shoulders.

The full bottles weigh almost 28 kilos, which includes the metal canister plus 12.5 kg of liquid gas. I do a quick calculation and estimate that he carries between 2500 and 5000 kg every single workday. But that is not all, informs the humble worker. Every bottle is in fact lifted four times. First, when he loads the full tanks onto the open truck in the morning, next, when he delivers them to the homes, then when the empty tanks get picked up and finally when these must be loaded off the truck at the end of the day. At the same time, one must not forget the almost Rubik-cube-like system and the eternal game of musical chairs on the truck bed itself, as Rafa moves the full tanks towards the edge and the empties towards the centre of the truck.


Rafa on an ordinary day. Photo © Karethe Linaae


Then, there are the large industrial gas containers.

-The big tanks which weigh 62 kilos, are sold to restaurants and hotels where there is a need for stronger pressure to push the gas up several stories. I also put those on my shoulder, but my colleagues carry them together.  

The job consists of fetching the gas cylinders at the local depot and delivering them to customers, whether they are businesses or private clients. Rafa almost always works alone. Together with two other bomboneros, the three of them deliver all the Repsol gas bottles in town in addition to supplying a handful of smaller villages in the vicinity. When they deliver to apartment buildings, they still must deliver straight to the client’s door. This means using the elevator when available. If there is none, or it is out of order, they must use the stairs. Rafa will usually take one tank on his shoulder and another one in his spare hand, and if he has more deliveries in one place, he uses a handcart.

-Our obligation is to deliver the gas tanks to the customer's door and not any further. But I always help the elderly customers and bring the bottles to where they store them. I even connect the bottles if they need me to. But not all bomboneros do that.

Rafa admits that it is impossible that the job does not affect one's back after so many years. When it comes to safety, the canisters lacked a safety valve in the past, so they exploded on occasion. But that doesn’t happen anymore, he assures me. Gas bottles in homes are much less common now than in the past, and every year there are more alternative energy sources. I ask Rafa if he believes his occupation will exist in 10 years' time.

- Yes, I believe so. There is gradually less work for us, but in the villages where it is more costly and difficult to lay gas pipes, I believe they still will need bottle deliveries.


Heavy lifting. Photo © Karethe Linaae


According to our almost tireless gas man, the toughest part of the job is when he arrives at an apartment building without an elevator or when it is impossible to find parking in the town centre and he must walk for blocks to deliver the bottles. And the best thing about his occupation is the contact with the customers.

- After all these years I practically know everyone in town, and people almost always take time for a chat. Most people are nice, but of course, there are all kinds...

Just as quickly as it started, our conversation is over. Rafa pops a gas bottle up the street and returns with an empty one. Then he hurries on to some 99 other deliveries before his workday is over.

Gas deliveries are one of those everyday occurrences that one sees here in Spain, but perhaps not often think about. It might be a dying trade as our society moves steadfastly towards full automation and complete digitalization. But in the meantime, we can still enjoy hearing the jolly honking announcing that the gas man is here!


99 deliveries left to go. Photo © Karethe Linaae

 

 



Like 5        Published at 5:27 PM   Comments (3)


Summer sizzle
Friday, August 18, 2023

Sun over Ronda. Photo © Karethe Linaae
Sun over Ronda. Photo © Karethe Linaae

 

We know it is summer in our Andalucian hometown when the only time it is liveable outside is before 9 am in the morning or after 9 pm at night. The hottest we experienced was the day we passed a thermometer outside a pharmacy, measuring 52 degrees. Not to forget that time during our first summer here when we were foolish enough to park right in the sun in August in Jerez de la Frontera and came back to 57 degrees inside the car. Not fun…

Summer fatigue. Photo © Karethe Linaae
Summer fatigue. Photo © Karethe Linaae


Of course, one cannot completely avoid the southern Spanish summer heat, but my husband and I have learned to wake up at dawn, go to our allotment garden by seven and do our shopping as soon as the stores open or just before they close at night. Otherwise, we fight the heat with an endless selection of cold beverages, Spanish hand fans, SPF 50, face spritzers in every handbag, an eternal production of ice cube trays and experiments with cold soups, all windows and doors closed during the day, fully open doors (with mosquito net) and electric fan at night, cooled-off sheets (yes, you can put them in the fridge!) and an emergency sofa bed in the basement should it get particularly intolerable. 

Walk at sunrise 2. Photo © Karethe Linaae
Walk at sunrise. Photo © Karethe Linaae


We know it is summer in Ronda when the fields are dusty gold, and no green straw of grass is in sight. When there hasn’t been raining for months and no prospect of precipitation either. When the town announces water restrictions (that they themselves never comply with) and even the neighbours stop washing their cars with a hose.

Workes searching shade. Photo © Karethe Linaae
Workers searching shade. Photo © Karethe Linaae


We know it is summer when the neighbourhood kids who run around are tanned as nuts and spend most of their waking hours jumping in and out of any pool that comes their way, as here school don’t start until the second week of September. We often hear children’s chatter and laughter long after we have gone to bed. When the toddlers finally get herded inside by their parents, we lay listening to the clicking sound of the geckoes that climb on the exterior walls hunting for mosquitos and other bugs, and as far as I am concerned, they can have the whole lot!

Antón cooling off. Photo © Karethe Linaae
Antón cooling off. Photo © Karethe Linaae

The summer is also the wedding season in Spain. I cannot imagine how the women in the bridal party can stand getting into the rather tight and often synthetic dresses, monumental feather hats and towering stiletto heels to teeter up the cobbled road to the Espiritu Santo church in the height of summer - but what doesn’t one do for love!

Summer also means village fiestas with ceaseless Reggaeton music and piped and live flamenco into the wee hours. 

Night movie. Photo © Karethe Linaae
Night movie. Photo © Karethe Linaae


Most Scandinavians choose to travel north in this part of the year, and who can blame them? I have always had big plans of finding a holiday substitution post on a weather-exposed lighthouse north of the Arctic Circle every August. Oh well, perhaps another year ... 

Reflection. Photo © Karethe Linaae
Reflection. Photo © Karethe Linaae



Like 3        Published at 5:21 PM   Comments (0)


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