Digital Pickpocket?

I woke up just before dawn to the singing of a solitary blackbird, an exquisite start to the day. I dozed for a while longer before listening to the news, then got up, made breakfast and started a load of washing left in the machine from before my trip home. I wrote for the two hours the wash took to finish. It shouldn't take long to dry on such a bright sunny morning. 

Jorge came by, complaining his key didn't work when he arrived earlier to check the pool condition. He wondered if I'd given him the wrong key, but the pair are the only ones of its kind in the house and I hadn't left one on the inside. It seems the lock needed lubrication, except there are no tools oils or glues in the house for minor DIY fixes. Jorge promised to bring some lubricating oil tomorrow, bless him. A house tool kit is needed here.

I composed my big weekly grocery shopping list and was about to go to Lidl's when churchwarden John called to say the car needed to be taken for its bodywork job - replacing one plastic front bumper panel - today, as there was an opportunity to get this done tomorrow. The carroceria however would be closing at two. Finding the place first time would be difficult, so was I free to do it together now? Yes indeed, since the auto-taller we needed wasn't too far from Lidl's anyway. John had an hour's journey to meet me. We arranged to meet at the CEPSA filling station by the Frigiliana Autovia junction. I drove to Lidl' did a half hour's shopping. Again I wrote a shopping list and left it behind, but remembered two thirds of it correctly. Then I drove to meet him John minutes early, and transferred my purchases to his car.

The place we drove to was one roundabout up from the dual supermarket area where Aldi and Lidl are on the same site. Then down a steep hill about a kilometer and into an area of scrubland scattered with industrial buildings of various sizes and states of repair, dedicated to car maintenance. We stopped at one workshop where John spoke with a young woman who gave him directions to the carroceria. She was the niece of the man enlisted to do the job! It wasn't far from where we stopped, around an obscure corner, easy to miss first time. When I handed over the car key we were told it would be ready by lunchtime tomorrow. It's a walkable distance for me, and I'll rely on photographic navigation memory to get me back there to collect it. Just to be on the safe side, I had a look at Google Street view to remind me of the buildings I'll be looking for!

I was late having lunch. After dealing with a few messages, I took a look at my Post Office Money card account and found a £1 deduction had been made from the card at Cardiff Airport the day I arrived. On arrival I went straight through from the 'plane and passport control to the baggage conveyor belt, and then outside to be collected by Ann. Nothing purchased. All I can conclude is that standing among the crowd was someone using a digital card 'skimmer', as they are called. The Post Office Money card is less secure than a debit card. It's possible I inserted it in a pocket in my card wallet which wasn't in the secure area lined with protective material, along with the other cards. Someone passing close enough with a 'skimmer' would be like a pickpocket - the digital equivalent for sure. 

Then went into Nerja on the ten to six bus which was a quarter of an hour late. No surprising really as the one bus covers Line 3 and Line 1 routes in an hour, and accumulates lost time when there's traffic congestion. I walked up to Mercadona to buy stuff I forgot earlier, and top up my Spanish mobile at the shop where I bought it, next to Mercadona. Then I returned to Parada Monica in time to catch the next bus, but it was still fifteen minutes late, with a grumpy driver who refused to stop as she was exiting the bus platform to admit another passenger who appealed to her to let him on. He looked so angry.

Back at the house, more messages to deal with, a chat with Clare, a light supper, a breath of fresh night air, then sleep.