Torremolinos
I rented a house for a month on the coast of Torremolinos in Malaga, Spain.
The house had a big yard. Of course, I had not been expected such a luxurious
accommodation. I was looking for the minimum room for the one month stay.
However, things go sometimes much better than expected. We usually call
it "LUCKY" Finally I got was the house which had a lawn yard,
a living room with chimney and roomy glass windows, 4 bed rooms and 2 bath
rooms. Guessing from the structure, the house would be separated in high
season. Each BR had beds actually. So I changed sleeping room day by day.
Inevitably, I came back to the first room on the 5th day.
After bringing in my baggage, I went to Adela's house next to me for paying
rent. The madam was the owner of the vacation house.
She was out. So, her son, Francisco, came up. "How much she said?"
He asked me. "40,000Pst ($300) "I answered. Then he shook his
head. I read his look. It said "Come on, maaam. it's too cheap the
40,000Pst. for whole house a month even considering here is a local town
of Spain and now is the low season"
200m walk brought me to the sandy beach of Costa del Sol. Flat coast line
was interrupted by rocks in some parts. I didn't see so many people on
the winter beach. Food stalls on the beach were half open and half closed.
There were high story apartments under construction here and there. Perhaps,
the landscape would be dramatically changed in a couple of years.
There were many non Spanish residents in Torremolinos. I noticed it when
I actually lived there. The English were majority. It's because Gibraltar
was relatively close, I guessed. The retired European elders yearning all
year sunshine were buying real estate in Costa del Sol.
In 1970's, Adela's family came to Torremolinos from Venezuela. There were
almost nothing there. It was the real Andalusian country side. So Francisco's
friends of elementary school in Caracas had said to him "Why do you
move to such inconvenient country side?"
From time to time, Francisco came by my house. He was unemployed. But he
had yacht at the harbor near by. Getting unemployment insurance, he lived
in the yacht with his girl friend.
In the day time he cruised the Mediterranean Sea alone. He came back when
the girl friend called him with a radio(no cell. phone those days) after
finish her university class.
"With wrong wind direction, it could be drifted to Morocco. But usually
no problem. So Fumi, why don't you come to yacht?" He had asked me
once. However when he made sure to me "You don't get a sick, do you?",
I answered "It's possible". Since then he had never mentioned
about yacht again.
When I saw white sails of the yacht under the deep blue sky of Andalucia,
I had a little question in my mind. "Working is really virtue? "
Jan. 2006
Today's piece
"Torremolinos " Torremolinos, Spain 1993
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