Return to base

Monday morning, with departure tasks completed, ready to go, I had a farewell visit from Pam and Alwyn, and with them a tech' team to connect house cabling to a roof dish antenna. Had I requested, this could have been done when I arrived, but I've been content to live without telly here for the past couple of months as I did last year, and during my spells in Malaga. It started with that December I spent in Sicily four years ago, when I realised how much of a time waster telly can be. Choosing to watch programmes via the internet when possible means I'm much more selective and economical with time than I used to be. There's work to be done refitting the apartment kitchen before the new Chaplain arrives in February, and there's another locum between now and then. I wish the Warden well, in getting this done in good time.

I said my Goodbyes at midday and drove to the Antas industrial estate adjacent to the A7 autovia, to meet with Tony and Janice for the trip to the town of El Altet near Alicante Airport, to stay at the Hostal Pensimar on the outskirts, which accommodated me overnight for my early flight home in November last year. I drove all the way there and enjoyed doing so. It's the longest drive I've done in Spain in recent years, 230km, just under two and half hours. I checked in to find my room was the same one I occupied last year, which was vaguely comforting. I told the desk clerk I'd stayed on November 14th last year, and he confirmed in a second that it was in their computer record.

Before parting company, we had a drink and a tapa at a nearby bar, then with a couple of hours of daylight left, due to an earlier arrival than last year, I went for an exploratory walk around town. I could see no evidence that was anything other than a late twentieth century development, established to serve airport workers and associated industries, built on a rectangular grid plan on the east side of the airport, closest to the sea coast, about 5km distant. The parish church had almost no distinguishing features, resembling a warehouse or a basic municipal community centre. I think it may have been built with  multiple uses in mind. It was closed, and  the exterior didn't look nearly as bright as in the web photos Its title written over an east facing facade is 'Temple de Sta Maria del Mar rather than Iglesia. I wonder why? 

On the way back to the hotel, I bought some food to supplement what I had brought with me, for a picnic lunch and supper in my room. Having no interest in going out again at night, I ready to sleep and was in bed by ten. I was up, and breakfasting an hour before the alarm went off, and took a taxi to the airport at a quarter to eight. The airport was still quiet and there were no queues to check in or to clear security, so I had a full two hours to wait in the departure hall.

The boarding process was chaotic. Another flight for Amsterdam was called, due to leave shortly after ours at the gate opposite. Passengers for both were trying to queues at the same time, with the Cardiff flight queue forming ahead of Amsterdam flight, snaking right across the gate used by the latter. There was nothing to partition the queues, no signs forestall confusion, and the Amsterdam ground staff turned up too late to avert ensuing chaos.

Adding to the chaos was the gate digital display panel, advising of the separation of Priority (rows 1-15) from Other passengers. A dozen mobility impaired passengers were queuing there. Some foot passengers occupying rows 1-15 were unsure whether or not 'Priority' meant them too, and didn't hold back. Mobility impaired passengers board first, wherever seated. Foot passengers occupying rows 1-15 sensibly with Vueling board last, but only if an intelligible announcement is made first.

Leaving it to staff inspecting boarding passes at the gate to separate and retain foot passengers for rows 1-15 is time consuming enough, even more so if an explanation is required. It's confusing and distressing if no explanation is offered, given a majority of passengers on this route are elderly occasional flyers. A clear large sized static boarding information panel at the point where passenger queue separation is required, giving the boarding order is all that would be required to eliminate herding chaos and anxiety. Once we were boarded, however, calm and order reigned and the flight was uneventful. I dozed fitfully, waking up just in time to see the Ebro Delta slipping away below, its huge rice paddies no longer a patchwork of greens and gold, but dark grey, hard to recognise in contrast. Memories of happy sojourns down there with the Costa Azahar Chaplaincy.

I was home by five to two, welcomed by Clare with a hot meal. After unpacking my case later, we found the the mains electricity switch had tripped. Nothing we tried could restore it, even with diagnostic help on the phone from our dear Greek electrician who rewired the house eight years ago. Eventually he came around, and methodically went through every appliance in the place narrowing it down to a multi socket board in my study. The most recent thing plugged in there was my laptop charger which normally lives there. Once removed, all was well. Whether it's a dying charger or one faulty socket, I don't know, but we were most relieved he saved the day for us. Funny, the charger was working fine in Spain until Sunday. If it's a problematic socket, has it killed the charger? That's for another day. Another long night's sleep now needed to recover from travel, and the traumas of homecoming, on this occasion.

Leaving Mojacar.

I thought yesterday was busy,but today was busier still. I stayed up late writing and got up late. Then this morning, there was my case to pack, the bed linen and towels to consign to the laundry basket, travel food to put in a bag, rubbish to take to the bin, the kitchen to clean.

There was more writing to do as well, as a handover report for the next locum, and this took me a lot longer than expected. I felt it was important to ensure the wi-fi password was embedded in the report, as I'd been unable to find it, as can be the case, on these assignments, found scribbled on a post-it note on the desk, or in the vicinity of the router. So far in Spain, with rare exception, I needed to look for the wi-fi password on the device itself. It's written in such small print that a magnifying glass is needed. So I take a photo of the identifying label on the underside of the router, and blow it up to read from when identifying each device I log on.

One virtue of BT and TalkTalk wireless internet is that they provide this info in larger print, on a card and with the 'howto' information. Some routers used in Spain have an extra button to push to broadcast the password briefly so wireless devices can pick it up, as in the UK, but not all. Such 'magic' solutions are not good news in the realm of good security, as you don't know what suspicious person or system is sniffing for access. So why Spanish internet service providers seem to relish making it difficult, I don't know, as it's of no benefit to the user.

Anyway, the morning sped by, and my last cooked lunch was rather a rush. I got out of the house on time, then went back because I worried about having left the balcony door unlocked (it wasn't), then I headed for Pam and Alwyn's house outside Vera for the journey to Alicante airport, and was only five minutes late by my timetable, or twenty five minutes early as they were expecting me at two and were still having lunch. It meant that I could enjoy a cup of coffee before we headed north in good weather. The journey passes through some spectacularly beautiful terrain. I didn't take photos for once, as the cameras were packed away in the boot. All I had to do was relax and let myself be driven, and in good company. How lovely.

Booking dot com led to an inexpensive room for one at Hostal Pensimar in El Altet, a well appointed and modern stopover place for the airport. I bade farewell to Pam and Alwyn just after four, happy to know they would be back in Vera before dark. Now with tomorrow's taxi booked for six thirty, all I have to do is relax some more, sleep and wait until the check-in counter makes its sleepy start.

No rising Supermoon for me tonight. On the way here we drove into cloudy weather, and it rained for a while on the airport approach motorway. Early bed for me I think.

        

Home and back to business

Elvis arrived cheerfully bang on quarter to nine to pick us up. He played a CD of a Portuguese fado singer to us on the journey, and when we said how much we'd enjoyed it, he gave us a copy. It had his personal contact details written on it, so that next time we visit, we can arrange for  him to collect us at the airport. There are four or five buses a day between Sta Pola and the airport, only 12km away, but the taxi service is organised and efficient. A great number of holidaymakers arriving will head to Beindorm to the north of Alicante or Torrevieja to the south, so it's good to know that Sta Pola based taxista can be there to meet you in peak periods.

The passage through security to our two hour wait in the departure lounge was smooth and hassle free, as was the flight home which arrived 15 minutes early. This must have thrown the baggage handlers, as our luggage arrived on the Malaga flight arrival belt, due in possibly just before ours, causing some confusion. A few eagle eyed people spotted their distinctive cases appearing on the neighbouring belt and that got the waiting crowd moving smartly, once they realised. Another hour, and we were home having lunch. 

I went into the office for the rest of the afternoon, and marked the resumption of business as usual by paying our first quarter's VAT bill. Motorpoint Arena is hosting a Disney World event this week. I don't really know that this entails, except that it involves lots of Disney merchandising stalls in and around the arena, as well as street traders touting their wares outside. Here and there in the crowd you could see mums with small girls in fairy princess outfits. I've never seen so many magic wands and fancy helium balloon on sale anywhere. Horrendous kitch and tat.

Ashley and I met up for tea at the Louie Restaurant, as he was busy, out and about doing a crucial inventory of radios in use, and was too busy to come in to the office. We're spending more time at the moment going over plans and preparation for a vital system upgrade with potential for the network's future, and we need to review each time we get new information, to ensure all can happen seamlessly, so that users aren't faced with anything unexpected. If a thing's worth doing, it must be done well.

After supper we watched another hard hitting episode of 'Line of Duty', followed by the two final episodes of 'Follow the Money' on catch up. I think there are just enough untied loose ends of story line in the plot to suggest 'Follow the Money II' might be screening in the coming year. An interesting insight into the ephemera of high finance and investment, and none of it too far from the truth, I suspect.

Southbound

It was a pleasure not to rush breakfast and leave by taxi to the city centre to catch the airport bus for a late morning check-in for our afternoon Vueling flight to Alicante. Taxi is obligatory from Alicante airport to Sta Pola as all buses go via the city, not direct. We arrived at seven, did the necessary food shopping, and then listened to The Archers.

A lovely evening with the promise of more blue skies and warm weather to come. I cooked supper while Ann and Clare went to the beach. Anything rather than walk a mile to a restaurant and wait half an hour to be served - not so enjoyable when you're tired and hungry from travelling.

We ate outside on the terrace, as the sun was setting. It's such a relief after such a long overcast winter. Then I went out for a late night walk to the port, to smell the sea and the presence of the town's still lively fishing industry. Happy to be here again.