The countdown for my move to Spain has started and I must admit to feeling just a little nervous. I am off for my second attempt at securing somewhere to live. I am focusing on the east of Malaga, inland. I want to experience 'Spanish Spain' rather than 'Ex-Pat Land' in a costa urbanisation. The Axarquia region of Andalucia has a large lake, and lots of pueblos blancos (white villages) dotted amongst them. It is these villages that I am considering - Sedella is the first stop.
The agent's arrival in a battered Ford something-or-the-other with his wife heralded a further ascent up the mountain to the first property outside Sedella. A perilous, and this is not a word I am using lightly considering the already life-affirming journey we'd made so far, track led to a bijou property. The agent described it as an artist's house as a painter and musician had previously rented it. They may well have done but it doesn't look like they cooked much. The kitchen was basic with only a sink, fridge and a tiny work-surface. The main cooking facilities could be found outside in the form of a fixed barbeque - ideal for summer living, not something I could envisage doing in the darkness of a winter evening. A friend had told me that hunger would focus the mind when we considered my meagre budget. This may be taking it a step too far in pursuit of literary success though; it's all very well not being able to afford food but there can be nothing worse than having a bird in the hand and no means of cooking the blasted thing!
The bonus of a pool was countered by the impending landslip that would fill it in and probably provide external insulation to one side of the house. This was a no-go, so we set off for house number 2 a little closer to Sedella.
What a contrast! It was the ridiculous to the sublime.
We were accompanied by the landlord to the second house down a 2km track, which did not drop away to oblivion but bumped along quite nicely. A drive-in, drive-out driveway formed an arc around the property which was modern and totally fenced in. Fencing for the entire plot would be an added bonus as it would mean less time spent trying to find Charlie when he takes himself off hunting. A 3 bed, 2 bath house, a complete kitchen, good condition furniture, a log-burner and a lovely seating area outside the front door under the porch. Ideal.
And then there is the view. I don't think I would ever tire of that view. The peak of Malaga district's highest mountain filled the skyline; as the landlord said a 'buena vista'. I was smitten (with the view not the landlord!). The landlord was very amenable - the mention of the possibility of garden furniture and BBQ were met in the affirmative. Looking good, but as my voice of reason said (and Jan is not often called that!) it was remote. Remote to me is pleasurable, but one must consider the practicalities...possibly...maybe...
And onward to house 3, a mere two minute amble into the village of Sedella from its front door and the municipal pool and, lo and behold - a fully equipped modern, astro-turfed, flood-lit football pitch! One can only deduce that there is either a healthy, money-spinning football league played in earnest by these villages or some sort of funding has come their way. Back to the house, and back to the ridiculous. A 3 bed, 1 bath house slightly smaller than house 2 but in no other way comparable. The beds looked like they had seen some serious action - they certainly wouldn't be taking any strain I put on them! The sofas were tired and grubby. I wanted house number 2.
Into the village with the agent and the landlord for a well-earned soft drink. The sun was high and the morning's comfort was replaced by a tremendous heat which sapped the energy, the bar thankfully was cool.
And so negotiations began. It's a good thing Jan was there, I would have just said 'I want house 2, where do I sign?', paid the full monthly asking price and walked away happy. I have been known to haggle in a Tunisian souk for 20 minutes over the British equivalent of 10p off the price of an 'authentic Tunisian birdcage', but I would have foregone all compomise to obtain that house. As it was, with talk of the possibility of taking the third house if the furniture was updated (it was owned by the landlord's brother-in-law), all sorts of incentives were offered. Logs in the winter, a SKY box for British freeview and the piece de resistance, 25 euros per month off the rent! Oh- praise be! To top it all there was no agent's finder fee either. God looks down upon the virtuous; he was obviously feeling especially generous that day as he counted me in their number.
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