I met Helen and Theresa in town this morning, to see if there was any progress on sorting out their Spanish driving licences. Nope. The man at the gestoría (paperwork agency) explained that the first thing they do is to contact the UK and see if it’s a real UK driving licence, and he thought they did them in batches. Anyway, they hadn’t done it yet.
Sigh.
But I went looking for some new plates. Now I’m not a great consumer, but we’ve had the same plain white plates since we were married – in fact I had them before we were married. And I was just plain bored with them.
While our son was little I felt that new plates wouldn’t be worth the worry, but he’s 11 now. But somehow most designs here don’t appeal to me.
And I found just what I wanted – very dark brown on the underside and yellow shading to red on the top, and just 22€, so I wouldn’t cry if they smashed anyway.
Now I got Helen and Theresa a set of crockery as a wedding present when they arrived on the island, and I remembered that getting the heavy, heavy box to the car half killed me. So this time I left my friends sitting at a pavement cafe beside the shop, minding the crockery, and I went for the car.
Here’s the surprising bit. I drove through four green traffic lights, and the last one, beside the cafe, turned red as I arrived and stayed red just long enough for Helen to put the crockery in the car.
And after we got home the gestoría phoned to say that the police had confirmed that Helen and Theresa’s UK licenses weren’t fake, and could we come back to sign something.
So it’s back to town on Monday.
And the novel’s up to 62,916 words.
