An Old Fool in Spain

 Forgive me for talking about the weather, but I’m British so should be excused. 

A few days before Christmas - it started. Rain. Not just rain, but torrents, bucketing out of the sky, hour after hour, day after day. For ten solid weeks it poured. More rain fell in two months than Andalucia normally sees in four whole years.

Now, I know that the UK has really suffered this winter from heavy snow, but that's no consolation for the Spanish skies opening and pouring on us for such a long time. Spanish TV showed the floods that took lives, ruined people’s homes, the impassible roads, the mudslides.

Around our village, waterfalls that had never existed before began to spurt enthusiastically out of the mountains.  Our poor chickens waded around in thick mud, and I was seriously considering making chicken wellies. The sky turned black, the sun trying hard to penetrate but not succeeding. 

Water coursed down the roads and dry stream beds became lively rivers. A brand new river coursed through the village where there's only ever been a dry gully before. I took this photo standing on the little bridge leading into the village. Notice the trees midstream. 

Then we made an important discovery. Our roof leaks. Water ran down our dining room wall. Joe and I rescued the bookcase then rushed around collecting buckets, pots and pans to catch the water. This continued for days. 

When Paco, our next door neighbour came up for the weekend, we showed him. Paco shrugged. “All Spanish roofs leak,” he said, as though that was common knowledge. Do they? We didn’t know that. 

So we carried on mopping and emptying our saucepans. It’s strange how you become accustomed to things; after a few days, the ‘drip...drip’ became just a background sound. In fact the drips were often quite musical... 

When we finally emerged from our house to go shopping, we very nearly didn’t make it. The only road into the village has never been good, but the constant rain had ensured that it became much worse. Massive boulders had broken away from the rock face and rolled down, blocking the road.

Fortunately, someone had pushed them aside into a pile (perhaps Geronimo with Uncle Felix and his mule?) leaving just enough room for a car to pass. A little nerve-racking as there’s a sheer drop on the other side... But we made it safely down the mountain to the shops to get our groceries.

While we were out, a house in our street lost the fight against the deluge, and collapsed. Luckily it was derelict, but it served as a reminder of the power of the elements, and stopped us moaning about our leaky roof.

Victoria