A day of small successes

Waking up to another bright and sunny day certainly infused me with fresh impetus to tackle a few tasks I've left undone from sheer inertia. First, I went and topped up my bus fare card in the estanco down the street. I assumed it was empty, and was surprised to find it still had enough on it for three journeys at €1.30, plus the €10 top up. So why did the card keep throwing up read a read error when I tried to use it on the bus? 

I walked to what I thought was the bus card office on the Alameda, only to learn after queuing for ten minutes that it was only the bus card top up office, and that I needed to visit another office further down the Alameda that deals with card issues. Never mind, I was pleased that I succeeded in explaining the problem and understanding the answer without recourse to a word of English, and the same in the card issue office. Here it was explained (I think) that my 20 month old card still worked and was good for 5 years, but the card issued wasn't was of a slightly different type, and not really what was best suited for city journeys of up to an hour with no change of bus to a different fare zone. Better still, the new card fare simple trip charge is €0.97 instead of €1.30! Ironically, it wasn't the Spanish that gave me problems but actually understanding how the fare structure operates with this technology. I've read it on the EMT website, understand the language but the concepts are a mystery. Never mind, cheaper fares with make up for this.

Mission accomplished, I wandered over into the shopping streets and found a substantial bookshop which would be the equivalent of a UK Waterstone's in terms of variety on offer. I fancied buying a poetry book, to practice reading and decoding an artist's text work. At home I have a book of Pablo Neruda poems, which has given me enjoyment. Up on the third storey, I found several of his works and bought a slim volume of his early love poems, which has become a classic. I also discovered the shop had an extensive section devoted to religious books and scriptural texts, a couple of dozen shelves. The bookstore we'd visited while searching for a Spanish New Testament for my birthday sent us to a specialist religious shop, as nothing of this kind they had in stock. Maybe there's some kind of ideological fault line in the bookselling world, I wondered at the time. Evidently not. It's a matter of getting to know the diversity of the market offers, here as everywhere else.

Then, heading back for the apartment, I stopped at a religious supplies store in an alley near the Cathedral, to get Amanda the rosary she recently asked me to buy for her. The shop had one made from Jerusalem olive wood, which I thought she'd appreciate. Encouraged by today's absence of setbacks, I decided it was time to pluck up my courage and mount the motion sensing light over the apartment doorway. It was somewhat tricky, as the landing lights are on time switches, and I had to stand on a chair and use a screwdriver up over my head, in order to secure it. It's not all that bright, and maybe it could be in a better position, but at least it illuminates the double key hole in the door. 

So now I don't have to walk across the landing in the dark and switch on the light, then return to lock the door - menos mal - as they say. I understand that the antiquated lifts are soon to be replaced, and hopefully with that the apartment block will get motion sensing lights through the stairwell. Present glumness certainly detracts from the attractiveness and value of these prime location properties.

After supper, I walked to the port as the sun was setting. The millionares' residential cruise ship was getting ready for a departure just before midnight. In the sky above, the new moon was descending towards the city skyline with one other brightly shining object nearby. Venus? Or the International Space Station maybe? Amazing either way. 

How the other half lives

It promised to stop raining at the end of the morning, yesterday and slowed to a drizzle, so I went out wearing a raincoat for the first time since I've been here. I went to the local shops, then walked around the Old Town, but it continued drizzling for as long as I was out. I got soaked, and needed a change of clothes. At least I got my daily exercise, though I hate walking in the rain in any climate. 

Then the toilet cistern came out in sympathy, as the valve that controls containment and release of water stuck in the open position. It's not for the first time this has happened to me in Spain as the water deposits large amounts of calcium in kettles, tanks and waterpipes. It's necessary to keep a supply of white vinegar and/or agua fuerte - dilute hydrocholoric acid I believe, and make tank descaling part of one's home maintenance routine. A build-up of limescale causes lightweight modern plastic valve mechanisms to stop working, as on this unlucky day. Still there's a second toilet in the bathroom so I've nothing to complain about. 

Earlier, Clare had bought some white vinegar. I used once I'd got the tank to stop emptying, and the filled it with vinegar and hot water. No result. I tried again with the remains of a bottle of agua fuerte found under the sink. Again no result. So Rosella has been alerted, and the cistern water supply turned off. It's an old toilet, and the mechanism I can't get at to inspect may be broken, so a visit from an expert fontanero is needed after the weekend.

This morning, I awoke to blue skies and a mild fresh breeze. Under the trees on the other side of the Paseo de Reding the monthly Bio-Mercado stall holders were setting up. It seems to me there were more stalls than last time, and more stalls than last summer too. The organic growers' association that organises these Saturday events, takes it to different locations around the greater Malaga area in the intervening weeks. Malaga is notable for the number of shops that sell organic food products, herbal remedies, cosmetics and other health products. I don't think it's simply a reflection of the diversity demand in this cosmopolitan city, but rather a continuing regional tradition of cultivating healing herbs and using traditional 'organic' agricultural methods which have retained as well as gained in market share.

It was such a pleasure to walk out without a jacket or pullover. Just in the course of twenty four hours, there's been a turn around of both cruise ships at the terminals one and two, and at the quay on the Palmeria de las Sorpresas. And talk about surprises, yesterday's MV Corinthian 100 passenger elite luxury vessel was replaced by MV The World. Twice as tall, overshadowing the quayside. This accommodates between a hundred and two hundred permanent residents, I later discovered. Instead of a millionaire having their own exclusive yacht, this ship is a floating village for high net worth residents who enjoy a life on the move, making the World in both senses their home. 

I wonder what kind of millionaires they are, what nationalities they are, whether they are retired, doing no more than oversee the market value of their assets, and what deters them from settling in any given place? I remember reading an article about a wealthy elderly widow with no family who had sold up and vowed to spent her last years cruising the world. 

She reckoned it was the most cost effective way of coping with age and infirmity, as cruise ships alway have plenty of staff, and cater well for people with mobility issues. Plus, there's always company, entertainment, never any worry about meals, and the continuing stimulus of the different ports of call, balanced by the contemplative tranquility of life at sea. Was this her kind of ship? Or would this be possible on a vessel that wasn't quite so opulent? How the other half lives. Intriguing questions.