Tuesday 30 September 2008

Tito's plan

Tito is our architect. Well, not really: we've never paid him, yet we've spent hours in his office over the last year or so, and since moving here in August, we see him all the time to ask stuff. This time we got him over to the house in Troporiz, Happy's house, yes, to talk about what we can do with the old buildings. We didn't really know what we wanted to talk about, it was awkward initially, we just kind of pointed at things and said silly tings like, that's a roof, it's broken, we should repair it, is that easy enough ? and so on.
Then he changed the subject and wanted to talk about coffee and cakes in Scotland. How people live there. The cost of living (after the latte is gone) and the salary of a teacher - he's also a part time secondary school teacher.

After that we flowed much better. It was hard to find the words in his language. He wants to know english, he insists, but like many people here they just can't face trying, so they let us massacre their language and seem quite happy participants in the dialogue. Well, I massacre it, Monica seems to have mastered it, including their mannerisms, already.

Anyway, afterwards, we realised we knew what we wanted to design, and went on our own to the drawing board and pretty much laid out the whole house plan. Wierd, he had no part in it, yet his being there kind of sparked us off to get going and thinking, and drawing and planning.

Another guy I met the next day, Victor, is a landscape gardner type. His english is OK but again he seems to decide not to speak it. It seems to be becoming easier to understand everything so that's fine, every day it's a thrill to learn a new word, or a way of saying things. Like 'pingi' is small coffee with a dash of milk. Where did THAT come from? Victor told me what "terrace" was, but now i've forgottern again. That's another problem.

Anyway, we walked the land and he told me about all the plants, the value on the market. We have a few old overgrown olive trees that provide no olives. Some shade I suppose. He said they were worth a couple of grand (!!). Their roots and small and in a ball below the tree, so they're easy to uproot and transplant. How bizarre. We talked about chippers behind minitractors, to mince our broom and brambles. About pigs and their fancy for eating roots - he's never heard of this crazy idea. Doesnt' mean it can't be true or done, no, he agreed, it doesn't.

He said there was masses of work to do (everyone tells us that). And that it could cost a lot. True, it could, but then i suggested that loads of people come out to help and work, and live in roundhouses or huts, shower in a simple solar shower outfit, make food in a semi outdoor kitchen. Yes he said, this would make it way cheaper. Do that and it would be good. He seemed to like the idea. I liked that.

I need to tell people about this idea. I guess i should use this blog for that purpose. Hmm, lots to do. Need to figure out how to post a picture....

Thursday 18 September 2008

The House of Mr Happy

I met the "Presidente de Junta" - the mayor, basically. We went to the municipality and talked about mills and stuff. Then he took me for coffee, where he invited a couple of older gents. Turned out one of them was the godson of the former owner of our place. The history flowed: the owner was a Senor Felix. So the house is known in the village as that "A casa de Senor Felix" (the house of Mr Happy) !

Our new connection to the history of the land went on to regale us with tales of scrumptious strawberries grown behind the kitchen. Of the chicken run. Hoards of fruit trees and vines.

They are delighted that finally someone's come along to renovate the old place. Was / is falling to pieces.

Photos soon...