Teulada and beyond
I’ve had a blog-free few days. No great adventures to recount. I’d been mired for a while anyway in Ray and Edith’s affairs.
Oddly, although I won’t go into great detail now, the day after I’d learnt the truth about Ray’s intent, he and Edith vanished, presumably back to Essex. There was no trace of them at the hotel. Management said that they’d checked out in a hurry and, save for a note under my door that read “I’ll find you”, that was it. Even the Los Olivillos had sailed.
The next day we didn’t go back to Javea, as planned. Instead we sampled the delights of a newly-opened train service between Alicante and Benidorm. It’s a route for which parts were apparently established decades ago but had been shut for several years. It reopened just a few days ago thanks to a cocktail of new funding, a large slug of which came from the EU. There are constant reminders here of the folly of us taking back control and I was reminded again, as I was on Crete, repeated here, of a piece by the late AA Gill, an arch lefty baiter who had a way with words:
“We all know what ‘getting our country back’ means. It’s snorting a line of the most pernicious and debilitating Little English drug, nostalgia. The warm, crumbly, honey-coloured, collective “yesterday” with its fond belief that everything was better back then, that Britain (England, really) is a worse place now than it was at some foggy point in the past where we achieved peak Blighty”.
I’d read online that Teulada was by the sea but after a scenic ride through the mountains and along the coast, it turned out not to be. The route from the station took us to an uninteresting highway of traffic and businesses, four miles from the coast, but we escaped for a nice walk along a lane that reminded me of Cornwall. From there we eventually spotted the church of Santa Caterina on the top of a hill in the old town we’d missed.
It was a familiar scene. A grand fortified church to protect the town’s citizens from attacks by Berber pirates, surrounded by a warren of ancient streets. The place was vaguely eery with fine houses that had seen better days, many in states of disrepair, for sale or actually falling down. Beside a sunny harbour things might have been different but, up there, under an occasionally overcast sky, there were few signs of life.
Altea
The next day we took the train to Altea, further down the line. It was a much better day. The sun shone and, with the now familiar pattern of a hilltop fortified church and an old town on a hill, this time with a beautiful bay below. In warm sunshine we had a lunch of grilled sardines in a nice restaurant with none of the gloomy air of Teulada. It was January and, as we read of -5° back in Blighty, we wore sunglasses and T-shirts beside a shimmering sea.
As we left for the train ride home we passed a south-facing plot of land for sale, pictured above, and imagined what you could do with it if you had a few million to play with.
Update
Further to a post in the comments below by Elizabeth, the Coordinator at Exeter Food Action, where I volunteer back in Exeter, I’m delighted to announce some fantastic news. Today I contacted the agents acting for the owner of the site pictured above and a sale has been agreed.
Elizabeth – don’t worry. We can sort out all the financials when I get back. I managed to scrape together a loan from my bank for the deposit of €20,000. They’re now contractually obliged to sell to us, as we are to buying, so we definitely won’t lose to another buyer. We just need to deposit the balance of €2m by the end of the month, which we can sort out when I get back. Alternatively, I can stay on and you can send the cheque to me and I’ll fix everything at this end.
I’ve just been down to the site with the agent and put up this sign. A really great idea of yours! I can’t wait to get started!
PS I didn’t ask about mentioning EFA on here, or using the logo on the sign. I hope that’s ok. Let me know if not and I’ll remove it. I’m sure you’ll be as happy as I am about the contract of sale.
Well, that looks like the perfect spot for an EFA outpost by the sea. That would be my suggestion. I’m game to try some expansion on the continent. Surplus Spanish food would probably be a bit more exciting too… I’m belatedly catching up with your adventures. Looks amazing! But don’t forget to come back. We miss you. And not just because it makes my Wednesdays busier!
Crying with laughter now as I hunt for my passport and suitcase. Wait till I tell Wendy. I’ll bring the cheque in person!
Miguel, the agent, who I met in a nearby bar, said he’d prefer cash in a bag if that’s ok. He seems ok and very kind; he bought me drinks all night. He thinks the best thing is to swap the bag for the keys and deeds to the plot, and he’ll text me a place to meet when you land, rather than meet at his office, which would apparently avoid paperwork and taxes. Sounds like a win win!
Miguel sounds like the perfect gentleman. Booking a flight right away
Excellent. Let me know what time you land. By chance Miguel is going to South America on business so is happy to meet you at the airport to complete everything.
Clever clogs.. very good. I remember when you sent me that picture of a doctored poster on the London tube with ‘Chas and Lisa welcome you to Portsmouth’ .. keep it up..
Now Edith and Ray – are you sure you didn’t just make it up? 😂
Of course A A Gill was so right. – what a mess we are in.
Nice plot – do we get an invite – look forward to that……..
Ray, Edith, Brexit – perhaps it’s all a dream ….