Blogs in this series

Life in Culebrón is a very British view of life in a small village in Alicante province, my experience of Spain, of Spaniards and sometimes of the other Britons who live nearby. The tabs beneath the header photo link to other blogs written whilst I was living in other parts of Spain, to my articles written for the now defunct TIM magazine and to my most recent photo albums.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

The Village Meeting

Along with our next door neighbour, John, I went along to the meeting of the Culebrón Neighbourhood Association yesterday evening. There were two other Britons who turned up for the meeting too. The total meeting attendance was 17 people so we represented a good percentage of the turnout.

The minutes from the last meeting were only available to the top table. They were handwritten in biro. We talked about trying to get a new roundabut to slow down the traffic as it approaches the village but the Town Hall said that was something for the equivalent of the Highways Agency to sort out. We went on to the new drainage and water system being put into the village. Our specific question was about whether our block of three houses would be included. Nobody knew. Though apparently there was an undertaking to include every house in Culebrón so we live in hope.

Up to now the meeting had been reasonably organised. Lots of interjections from the floor but basically following an agenda. Now though we got onto talking about a trip out. At this point there were at least twenty conversations going on in a room with just 17 people. The Chairwoman went for a smoke whilst the good natured argument raged. The original plan of a ride on a train to Altea was fraught with difficulties, there were suggestions of staying local, doing this, doing that; eventully we settled on going to the reservoir at Cenajo but we were unable to decide a date.

The village meal was equally contentious; would we buy in ready cooked, get the food prepared by the local restaurant or would Maribel end up organising the food as usual. She wasn't keen - "All afternoon cooking and all evening washing up" she moaned. Paco jumped to his feet "I'll wash up". How we laughed.

And then it was all over. No mention of plans for the village fiesta at the end of July or of our part in the Pinoso carnival at the beginning of August.

What a hoot. It really cheered me up especially as we'd definitely taken part as well as attended. We were nearly as loud as the quietest Spaniard.

What a brilliant place to live and to be a part of!

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