The phone shows it as a Barcelona number. I very rarely answer those, or the Madrid ones. I don't want a burglar alarm, or solar panels. I'm happy with our electricity provider. But it's the third time today - I crumble under the persistence. I'll do my version of a Woolwich accent. That usually scares them away though it makes Maggie wonder if I'm having a stroke. It turns out to be an Amazon delivery driver. The address they have for a delivery, Maggie's office, doesn't open on Saturday. I realise the driver is having trouble with my Spanish because he isn't. When I see him he looks Dutch or something but he doesn't speak English either - Ukrainian maybe?
On the phone he tells me where he is. I'll be there in five minutes I say. I'm being optimistic, even with a following wind eight might have been closer to the truth, but I'd forgotten the fiesta. Pinoso closes half of its roads at fiesta time. There are four main routes out, or, I suppose, in to Pinoso. None of them is actually closed but three of the four are compromised. It's not a problem for we locals. We can usually find a way around. Sometimes it's simply not possible and close is the best you can do. It's amazing the streets you know after living in a place for 17 years. Dodging around a blocked street, feeling cocky, feeling knowledgeable, Edgeware Road to Astrop Terrace in Shay Boo please cabby, there is a builders merchant's lorry unloading bricks on my route. I don't like going against one way systems but there is no alternative.
I dodge in and out of side streets and park alongside the Amazon van. It must be making your life a nightmare I say to the driver. He knows the Spanish for nightmare.
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