FRANCESCA DE AVALON - Chapter 10

Ben alerted me to the sound of a large vehicle slowly navigating the Camino del Vado. Ahead of it our local policeman, on his motor bike, was leading the way to my gates. I greeted him and he told me that the driver of the huge removal van had stopped in the village to ask for directions. Our policeman assumed that this British vehicle must be for me, the only Brit for miles around. Kindly, he had offered to guide the driver to my finca and we both watched as the expert driver inched his way forward with barely a hair’s breadth of clearance either side.

The local policeman helped us to unload my furniture and household effects. We ferried it all into the house and then shared a coffee before watching in awe as the driver reversed the removal truck all the way back to the main road. I was thrilled to finally have all my possessions together in one place. It did not take long for me to arrange everything because I had already worked out a plan over the previous few weeks.

My new friends agreed to help me move the water tower and that proved to be easier than we anticipated. We placed the fibreglass tank on top and the next task was to bring water from the river to be pumped up to the tank.

That sounds a lot easier than it turned out to be.

I began to dig an irrigation trench along a natural depression in the land. It connected a small stream from the river to a short waterfall which I built to discharge into my land, close to a small gate hidden in the fencing at the utmost tip of my diamond. From there the dogs and I dug a channel about twelve inches deep, racing to keep ahead of the water as it poured over the new waterfall.

We worked as fast as we could and the water showed us which way it wanted to go. From then on, digging new branches to our irrigation system became our daily slog. It was extremely hard work and the dogs wore their claws down to the quick until we had five narrow trenches winding their way between the trees and around the perimeter, feeding the mature trees and bramble on the borders.

We created bridges from planks extracted from the old bird cages and I used granite boulders to open and close the different branches, ensuring that every young tree got a good soaking underground rather than topically.

Resting in the patio, regularly considering the situation, I realised that I needed to bring the irrigation system to a collection pond from which I could pump water up to the water tower and eventually into the swimming pool.

The next major task was to dig out that pond. I selected the lowest point, very close to the stone dyke border wall and began to dig. Just below the surface I unearthed some very large granite boulders, most of which could be rolled up and out of the potential pond space. However, the deeper we dug the bigger the boulders were, until we came across boulders far too big to move. Rasta and Ben tried undermining them, even lying on their sides to dig them out. We puzzled over this problem as our little pond filled with water.

Once the water had settled in the pond, nicely clear, we were able to fill our water tank and connect to the house plumbing for the first time but the pond was not quite big enough for Rasta and Ben to lie in and cool off.

Fuego and his friends turned up for the final weekend of August with a plan. They wanted me to drive them north to Asturias to attend a big music festival. I needed a break from all the hard work and the dogs deserved an adventure, so I happily agreed.

As it turned out, that was a good move. We had a great time at the festival, camped for the night under the stars and went for a long walk on a nearby beach the following morning. I came across a large piece of super strong fishing net washed up high on the sand and realised that I could wrap up my over-sized pond boulders with that and, using the van’s tow bar, I could probably haul them out of the pond and make it more spacious. I gathered it up and carried it back to the van.

I set about this scheme as soon as we got home and literally bounced those huge boulders up and out of the pond! It was very exciting because I had to rev the engine, engage and then brake hard rather than crash the van into my house! Mind you, those stones thereafter became ornamental edges for our newly enlarged pond because I did not want to risk moving them again.

With the land finally cleared and the pond enlarged, there was one more major job to be accomplished. I took a sprig of Laburnum to the paint shop in Candeleda and bought a perfect match in exterior quality paint. I painted the dull concrete grey walls of the house a vibrant yellow just before the Virginia creeper turned its best shade of vermillion red and created a gorgeous contrast for autumn.

I found a lovely piece of oak from which I cut a thick slice and sanded it smooth. I painted “Avalon” onto the wood, varnished and placed it propped up against the trunk of the huge Laburnum tree near to the gates.

The house was now named. I had an address at last.

When I went to the village administration I was able to pay my annual land tax and register the new address with the post office. They did not deliver so far from the village, but they did provide me with a cardboard box in the foyer marked Francesca de Avalon and that was how I acquired my new identity which went on to serve me well for all the years I lived in Madrigal de la Vera.

One of Fuego’s friends, Angel, lived about 60 kilometres south, down on the central plains and his journey home was going to entail two bus rides. One into Madrid and then another back out of Madrid on a different route. This seemed very long and tedious to me so I offered to drive him home on a more direct route at the end of his holiday. He expanded my idea by inviting us to stay at his home to meet his friends and neighbours. Angel was particularly fond of Pearlie for some reason and she, surprisingly, permitted him to touch her. I often saw him feeding her chunks of his ham or tuna.

Angel’s home was a pretty cottage in a pair of twinned tiny villages which had one small shop and one small bar between them. The community was mainly artists who used an abandoned school as a workshop. There was also a wrought iron foundry which produced astonishing intricate and expensive exhibits to order. Many sample sculptures were displayed around the village streets acting as great advertising while simultaneously enhancing the beauty of the twin villages.

Angel worked in Madrid as a security guard at the Italian Embassy and commuted daily by bus. The first time I saw him in his military style uniform complete with a gun on his hip I barely recognised him! I had only seen him in shorts, sandals and colourful tie-dyed t-shirts before that.

One evening we were having a drink in the local bar when a small group of men arrived. They worked on a massive gravel pit nearby and the crew boss was Antonio, a good friend of Angel’s.

Antonio mentioned that he needed a night watchman urgently and he asked Angel if he had a recommendation. Quickly Angel asked me if I wanted the job. “Of course!” I replied without hesitation. Angel set about persuading his friend that I was the ideal candidate because of my two dogs. “That property is far too big for one person to patrol and keep safe!” he said. “You need Francesca and her dogs!”

Antonio looked doubtful but Angel was a consummate salesman. “Give her a try, just a few nights and see if anyone breaks in while her dogs are on site!” Antonio related a few sorry tales about losing a lot of tools and fuel from his tanks. All the while he watched Rasta and Ben who were lying at my feet.

“OK!” he said finally and Angel grinned widely.

“Can you start right now?” Antonio asked, involving me in the conversation for the first time. “Sure!” I replied and asked what he was paying.

Antonio offered me 1,000 Euros a month to be on site from 7pm until 7am every night. We finished our drinks and I drove, following Antonio’s car to the entrance of the gravel pit.

It was getting dark so we didn’t have much time to look around. I parked on the edge of a vast deep pit full of massive machinery and gazed in awe at the mountains of sorted gravel piled all around.

This was a huge operation and the perimeter fence was a very long way from the pit. The land between was wild with high dry yellow grassland and occasional stunted bushes. There were three entrances to keep an eye on, plus several holes in the fence line.

Rasta and Ben were already exploring and Pearlie had disappeared as soon as the van door had opened. Yes, this was the kind of territory they all loved very much.

Antonio gave me a lift back to the main gate and, receiving the keys, I locked it after he left. I walked back to the van, made a coffee, settled down to watch the sunset and enjoyed the peaceful sound of a light breeze through the tall grasses. The dogs raced to the tops of the gravel mountains and gazed around. They understood their new job immediately.

I could hardly believe my luck.
Once again, I had an ideal job falling into my lap.
One that suited us perfectly.

—0—

You can find the previous chapters 1-9 beginning here.

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ONWARDS!
xx

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