After waking up from an extended siesta from all the shenanigans with the Flamenco, I glanced at my watch, wow, it was 12:49am. I decided to go to a bar not 500metres from where I live called “La Bodeguita Indiana”. Simon had been there last week until 5am. He had shown me the photos of him playing guitar there and having a laugh with the patrons so I decided to check it out, with a view to asking the owner if we could get a gig.

I was the only one in there so I chatted to the owner, Juan Ma, who remembered Simon and said that everyone had enjoyed his Guitar playing. Luis, a friend of Juan Ma’s and owner of a large bar in Jerez, turned up at 1am. Luis’s bar has a big terrraza and he also puts on a lot of gigs. The three of us chatted about Music and food for about an hour, and then the star of the evening turned up. 

Simply known as “Chino”. A big bloke, wearing a fluorescent shirt so I guessed he worked for the council. His front teeth were missing so when he talked his lisp wass even more pronounced. He was good friends with both Juan Ma and Luis. Well I think I laughed more in the hours there with Chino, than I have done in 4 months here. He was hilarious. His job was to tow away cars that have been parked illegally so it’s no wonder he had a light hearted view on the world. 

El Stor Comedia

Juan Ma, the owner of the bar, told us that one day last month when he got back to his car, he found it had gone. He looked on the ground and sure enough there was a fluorescent sticker on the ground from the Local Council indicating that his car had been towed, you know the ones they leave. On closer inspection he noticed that, where normally there would be the hand written details of the car and time and place where it was taken and other official details, all that had been written on it was  “you know where your  f******g car is”. Classic.  

Well Chino didn’t stop talking and telling jokes and we three didn’t stop laughing until 5am. I would have left earlier but I couldn’t because my sides hurt too much.

After one anecdote Chino turned to me and said…

“He Philip, they call me The Rock of Gibraltar……do you want to know why?”

Bone of contention

I nearly wet myself.

The rest of the weekend was quiet although the excitement surrounding the European Football championships has been building with Spanish flags now adorning bars, balconies and buildings in Jerez. I did get ripped off again at another local bar, they are all the same here, charging more for drinks than is actually the real price, because you are a foreigner. I am going to have to start a Black Book of Bars. It will be full up in no time.

"Right..Now onto the B's"

Christine

Well she goes from strength to strength. I had three things left on my list of fourteen to complete. Minor oil leak, Windscreen wiper blades and the hooter.

Can you believe it I have an ‘Advanced’ socket set with over 150 connectors and I didn’t have one for the oil tank retaining nut. It’s a square socket!!!! I managed to bodge it using a star socket with an Allen key inserted. It worked.

One down , two to go

Then I tackled the windscreen wipers. On closer inspection the original windscreen wiper blades were odd and they were held on with tape and what looked like black cotton!!

Off they came and after asking at two car accessory shops I finally found a place that sold replacements. I purchased two new wiper blades and followed the pictorial instructions, carefully, shown on the back of the blister pack. I clicked the first bit together then put it on the wiper stem.  Hold on it’s upside down!!. I looked at the pictorial instructions closely and found that I HAD done it CORRECTLY. Now I had to unclick the plastic bit and I put it back on the other way.

‘SNAP? a bit came flying off. Noooooooooo.

I walked back into the shop and I explained to the guy who sold me the wiper blades, that I had broken the little plastic connector and that it was because the instructions were wrong on the blister pack (which they were) in the hope that he wouldn’t think I was a complete ****.

He just glanced at me, handed over another plastic connector smiled, in way that I could see he was thinking,..What a complete ****.

After receiving the new plasitc connectors

Two down, one to go.

As I lay awake the night before I was thinking that as I know absolutely nothing about car electrics and that there are wires all over the place, I would have no chance of figuring it out what’s wrong with my hooter. I decided that I would have to rig up some sort of button with wires from the battery to the hooter and bypass the claxon stem.

Well lo and behold with the aid of one of the most useful tools I now have (ed..what’s the other one fnar fnar?) I managed to solve the mystery.  The tool is a little pen that lights up when you hit a live wire.

Well I felt a little like Hercule Poirot as I followed the black wire from the hooter all the way back to the original hooter  stem probing with my tool trying to find the problem with my horn (ed…Oi Oi) and unexpectedly all was good on the power wire. After more probing and prodding I deduced it was the ‘masa’ or earth connection that was the guilty party. 

The user manual was clear on the hooter wiring

I unhooked the klaxon completely and rewired the whole thing so I could hold the hooter in my hand with a new earth connection and push the horn stick at the same time to test it.

“BWWWWUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” went the Hooter.

JESUS! I thought, that is the loudest hooter I have ever heard.

I guess back in the day when Christine was new you had to make the Klaxon so loud, as to warn horses and carts and the bloke with the red flag to get out of the bleedin way.

I fixed it all back in place with a new earth lead and now everyone in Spain will hear me coming.(ed…snigger snigger) 

"In your dreams"

Three down, none to go.

I also decided to fabricate a car sun visor. You know the ones that are on sale at motorway service stations on the continent. They are rolled up and you unroll them and put them on the inside of your windscreen and then, when you come back to the car from a 4 hour shopping trip,  the thing has slipped down and rolled itself back up and as now in the foot well keeping the foot pedals nice and cool. 

Well I made mine out of cardboard and kitchen foil. It is made to measure for Christine and this will stop her getting too hot under the collar.

"The chances of anything coming from Mars....".

Huston we are good to go.