Yesterday, I arranged to visit Mike and Patricia who live outside Competa, and celebrate a Eucharist with them, as they've been unable to get to church since Palm Sunday. I was bewildered to find that the car wouldn't start, its battery was completely dead, so dead that the digital clock wouldn't display the time. I discovered that I'd left the car lights on, after driving back from Salinas two weeks ago, as it was raining when I got back into the city. The lights on warning buzzer either didn't work, or I ignored it in my rush to leave the car and get ready to go and meet Fr Geoff at the airport later.
Rosella alerted the car insurance emergency response technico, and within an hour a man arrived and quickly got the car going, so that I could get on my way and let the battery recharge itself during the 100km round trip. I drove the car around to the front of the church and get out to lock the door, switching off the engine, as car and church key were on the same ring. The car wouldn't restart. It hadn't been running long enough to accumulate even minimal charge, illustrated by the car clock, which hadn't been reset went from showing 15 minutes run time back to zero.
I tried bump starting it with the aid of two young men who work as cemetery tour guides, and failed, as there was insufficient charge to power up the car's system electronics on which so much depends.
The technico had left, and was on his way to his next assignment. Rosella had to repeat the call out procedure, and this time it took longer. Moreover, a different technico came driving a grua (tow-truck), just in case there was an undiagnosed problem. He couldn't drive into the cemetery, as his vehicle was too big for the narrow entrance and path. It took ages for him to find a temporary legal parking place and then find his way to the car, stalled at the top of the steep slope up to the church.
Once more it started instantly. He looked at the battery specification and declared that as it was a high capacity battery, needing a lot more re-charge time to become minimally functional again, 15-30 minutes, before it could be confidently stopped and re-started. On reflection, when it had been started the first time around, of its 15 minutes running time, ten had been supplemented by the technico's mobile charging pack. The car had only run independently under its own power for five minutes. That was a fatal error.
There was no way that I could risk driving out into traffic, just in case I stalled and couldn't re-start the car in the first crucial 15 minutes of re-charging, so I was obliged to postpone my trip to Competa, and leave the car locked with its engine running to bring it back to safe usability. I went back to the apartment, cooked and ate lunch. When I finally switched the engine off, it had run for over two hours, and re-started normally. I had someone else to check the battery later in the evening with a charge tester, just to make sure it was holding its own, and it was, thankfully.
Late afternoon, I went for my usual paseo and saw that the very large cruise ship MSC Calypso that had arrived overnight had already left, and in its place there was a Dutch registered cruise ship, plus in the port a hundred berth Spanish registered private yacht 'Clio' for hire, berthed at the Palmeria quay, half the size of the millionaire's 165 apartment floating hotel ship 'The World', which left the day before. An amazing amount of cruise ship traffic visits Malaga, although often it seems to be in fits and starts.
Lunchtime today I had a visit from a fontanero (plumber) called Luis, who came to replace the main water valve in the older of the two toilets. He had to give up after an hour's struggle, as the forty year old cistern had seized joints, requiring a hacksaw, and other equipment he didn't have, so he'll return tomorrow morning. So, after lunch, I set off for Mike and Patricia's in Competa.
This is a lovely mountain drive, albeit challenging in places, as the width varies and there are many hairpin bends. I was pleased to have remembered my way quite well since my visit in July last year and arrived in time for tea. We chatted at length and then celebrated Mass at a table on the veranda accompanied by birdsong throughout. Such a pleasure. It's like that in St George's too, despite being right in the middle of town.
As the road is still unfamiliar, I felt cautious enough not to want to drive back in the dark or with sun in my face, so set out for Malaga after a stay of about three hours, while the light was good. Not that it was any insurance against misfortune. As I entered the mediaeval pueblo blanco of Sayalonga, which is blessed or cursed (depending on your point of view) with traffic calming measures (speed humps), I was hit from behind and propelled on to the speed hump I was slowing down for, by a small gold coloured Peugeot. It was quite a low speed collision, so I avoided whiplash. The Golf was undamaged, I don't know about the other car, whose driver pulled alongside and gesticulated, as if he was asking if I was alright, while I was still feeling bewildered trying to work out what had just happened, and then he drove off, at speed.
There were several witnesses who expressed concern for my welfare. I was somewhat lost for words, more puzzled than shocked, relieved that I hadn't made an error while trying to be cautious. So I just shrugged it off and drove on. Then, in El Palo, on the home stretch, a car swerved in my direction as it sought to avoid a vehicle in the opposite lane, causing me to make an instinctual emergency stop and stall the car. Thankfully, traffic behind wasn't close enough to me for this to have consequences, but it did overshadow the conclusion to an otherwise pleasant afternoon outing. You just never know what's going to happen next, do you?
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