Searching for Home

It wasn't as easy as we had thought searching for a home. We left Canberra with a vision of something, probably a little utopian, and finding that place wasn't easy - impossible actually. It just didn't exist. We found this out after a lot of driving, searching and 'not quite rights' until we realised that it really didn't matter that much. It was up to us to make a home.

Ideal criteria;

1. Not too cold, not too wet

2. A small town or rural setting near a small town which is not too far away from a big town

3. Near snow covered mountains

4. Near the coast

5. Perfect white houses with bouganvillea cascading from balconies and roof gardens

6. Spotless town with a nice array of shops and 'artesiana'

7. Castillian spanish so we have some chance of communicating

8. Village fountain must sprout wine

9. Muy tranquillo (peaceful)

yeaaaaah right! But you wouldn't believe that all this, yes EVEN number 8, is within 30 minutes of where we are now!

So we settled on Orgiva, completely by accident. We booked a week in a caravan park bungalow just out of town (because it had an internet connection) and drove about. At first we were not really fussed, it wasn't quite perfect....a slightly grubby town with weird traffic lights. One day we just looked at each other, shrugged and decided that 'hey its not so bad here'.

Anyway the place grows on you, there is a definate hippie element - a hint of Mullumbimby. Lots of people escaping real lives which I guess is a bit like us. It is nice and slow, no one seems in a hurry. We left bag in the supermarket and a week later they gave it back when Amber walked in. That's nice.

Our House...

Us...

It was by sheer accident that we ended up in the town from which Chris Stewart described his life in the Alpujarras in 'Driving Over Lemons', a book fortuitously lent to me by my good mate Kate 'Kluggo' Coolston while we were planning the trip. Life has changed here a bit since then but we still have the laden donkeys clip clopping through the town, patatas pobres and oodles of lemons.




Our google maps/earth address is 36.897623,-3.412049 if you want to see exactly where we are.

Madrid...and the Tarjeta de Residencia

IF you are ever in Spain make sure you visit these people...

We had been putting off getting our residency cards because our 6th sense knew that it was going to be a nightmare...and, of course, it was. We were saved only by our friends Jennifer and Agustin who so kindly helped us and had us to stay. Five children under 7 and 4 adults was certainly very brave! - we thank them all...including Heath, Brigit and Ibon who provided much entertainment for Angus and Archie.

Anyway the story goes like this...

Day One. Arrive in taxi at 8am, see a queue, a very long queue. Taxi stops and driver says this is the place. Line up for 4.5 hours and freeze (luckily there was a playground next to the queue)

..."sorry wrong office...this is only for Bulgarians and Romanians today" (after having looked at our documents 4.5 hours before and saying we were in the right place!).

Get told to go to office on the other side of town (thanks for updating the internet you b*st*rds).

Get out of taxi and see a line longer than the first one. Amber talks us into the shorter queue.

Get told to go as office is shutting down for lunch (2 hours) but we stay and resist. By now it was blazing hot and there was one heavily fought for umbrella. Finally get in 2 hours later and find we are at the wrong office again and we need to go somewhere else (all in very rapid spanish). Amber cries (on cue) and the lady looks at two very tired boys, feels sorry for us and arranges an appointment...in 5 DAYS time...aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh.

Thankfully this was the worst day and Jen and Agustin had us for dinner and filled us with food and wine - and things didnt seem as bad.

In the meantime I went for a great walk in the mountains near Madrid with Agustin and his friends. The next day my legs protested strongly about assuming the vertical position...ouch. We also had a great day at a medieval festival in a nearby pueblo. Mabye a sword will help get the residency card...I wonder.....

Then a nice couple of days in Segovia (apart from our car being towed out of town!)

I looked after the boys while Amber faced the police! Paper, scissors, rock and I won!

Then to the stunning medieval walled city of Ainsa and back to Madrid for the next round.

5 Days later... Up early, couldn't find my wallet. Raining, late for taxi. Got into town and guess what...taxi driver drops us off at the end of another queue. Anyway Amber took the boys over the road to a cafe and I waited in the rain for the office to open. One and a half hours later we had our documentation approved and were told that would have to come back to Madrid in 3 months to get the residency cards and under no circumstances were to leave the country. So Portugal -nnnngg Morocco -nnnngg England - nnnngg - (nnnngg is the sound of the buzzer when someone gets a question wrong on Sale of the Century) - but we were here for the duration which was good! ...very good.

So we thought we should get on the road and set about finding our new home! Vamos!