UK. There are
many advantages to living in Tenerife. The climate is kinder on arthritic
joints, for one thing – we know of one man who arrived here on crutches and
within months was teaching badminton again. The cost of living is lower, as
long as you go native and don’t do all your shopping in stores that import
everything from the UK. We have fleeces but no winter coats, we don’t even
possess wellies, and the beer and wine is cheap.
The downside is that we
left friends and family behind – it is ironic that the first long word we
learned from out flash cards was desgraciademente = UNFORTUNATELY. The space we
left in the UK has filled up now, of course. Friends are pleased to see us when
we go over, but we don’t have the minutӕ
of daily life in common any more, and those friendships are fading.
We left six children
there too, and four grandchildren. Since then three more grandchildren have
been born and are growing up without us. So when people ask, “Do you regret
moving?” obviously expecting the answer to be “No”, we tell them that.
This photo is of my four children, their other halves and my two grandsons. The OH's family is more scattered but still UK based.
UNSOLD. The old
bull-ring I featured yesterday was full of unsold cars for a couple of years.
In hindsight it was definite proof of the coming crisis. They were parked in
sad rows, their varied colours rapidly fading UNDER a layer of orange dust.
Then one day there was a procession of gruas (tow-trucks) and they all
disappeared. Did someone buy the lot or was the rent, even of an UNUSED
bull-ring, too much for the company that owned them?
There is also a
veritable rash of unsold apartments everywhere we go. “¡Oportunidad!” the posters scream from the balconies.
We know it means another family has lost the battle to pay their mortgage.
UNEMPLOYMENT in
Spain is around 26% - in Tenerife it’s worse, and el paro (dole) doesn’t cover
the mortgage for long. No wonder the camp-sites and caves are filling up. One
of our Columbian neighbours comes round regularly to fill some water bottles –
his has been cut off – and the poor man is so embarrassed. He asked me last
week if I could give him a euro to visit his child – he hadn’t even got one
euro for the bus. Out by the basura at night, it’s not just tramps you see
dumpster-diving for food, or clothes, or anything that might raise a euro or
two at the Sunday flea-market.
UNDERTAKER. Not
a cheerful subject, but moving abroad sharpened our minds. So we paid for our
funerals in advance – you can do it in instalments if you like – and it was at
2001 prices. The kids were shocked when we told them – “Oh Mum, you’re not ill
are you?” – but now we can all relax in the knowledge that arrangements have
been made. The cheapest funeral these days costs about £2500 – could your
family afford that?
U is a bit of an orphan letter – USUALLY the least
USED vowel – which I bear in mind when I do a codeword puzzle to relax before
sleep. It starts so many negative words, as in UNATTRACTIVE or UNWRITTEN, but
where would Q be without it?
UGH! Cucurachas
– I hate them. In England, if something scuttles across the floor just on the
edge of your sight, it’s likely to be a spider. Here it’s a cockroach. We put
stuff down that they are supposed to take back to the nest to kill themselves,
their babies and the eggs, but still they come. We double-wrap our rubbish, but
if we put the kitchen light on in the middle of the night, there’s always one
of the UGLY buggers. They are UNINVITED guests at any evening meal on the
terrace, and we never leave a drink UNCOVERED outside – a mouthful of cockroach
is decidedly UNPLEASANT.
They say cockroaches
can survive a nuclear blast. Maybe so, but they don’t last long after a direct
hit with a flip-flop.
UP is the only
positive word I can think of today that begins with U. Bottoms up. Chin up.
Fill ‘er up. Gee up. Hurry up. Looking up. Mix up. Pop up. Stir up. Wake up.
The only way is up.
Even the word ‘up’
looks odd when you use it too many times, doesn’t it? Cheer up!
.jpg)
.jpg)
+(614x640).jpg)
