In December we initially had one housesit organised which was repeated a few times throughout the winter months. Then closer to Christmas came the opportunity to care for the neighbour’s cat and how could we resist caring for a cat especially one who goes by the name of “Junky”.
Our main housesit for the month was a resit. The main character was Fudge and his family who we now call friends. Surely you remember Fudge? He used to walk around the streets of Aubonne, check those moments out by reading: Neighbourhood Walks – Aubonne.
With Africa as his birthplace, a few abodes around Europe you could say he is one well-travelled dog. This makes him a very adaptable and agreeable chap to look after, and, we are very fond of him, to the point that we shall miss him.
Our time here has been what we would describe as very much “relaxed”, we enjoyed our walks around the neighbourhood, with daily strolls to the beach. It had been an ideal time to spend organising future travel. As we have a roadtrip with five days up our sleeve to get to our next housesit in France and a return one on a different road in the coming weeks.
Back to Marbella, well we are not quite in Marbella, appropriately 8 km away, which is a good thing. As precisely, where we are there are no highrise buildings and the universal language, isn’t English, with tourists, not being a regular sight.
Many of the houses are build quite similar, with other streets having traditional Spanish houses. What is common here, is the use of locked gates and high fences. Which is surprising for a country that has a low crime rate. Most I would say are to keep their dogs from wandering.
Fudge has a dislike for some small noisy four-legged varieties. Especially those that wait until he is near their fences. Sniffing his way, minding his own business relaxed as any dog could be, then comes that unexpected yelping, a groan is returned and we move on. By the time our equilibrium is restored, we are back to square one! Oh, those annoying yelpers say Fudge. One day, we met those yelpers on a walk, they didn’t look so scary or noisy when Fudge growled at them as we passed them by.
Every dog has its day.
In the middle of the housesit, we had our first Spanish Christmas, read more about that in this post Our first Spanish Christmas. Well, the big fat jolly man didn’t make much of an impact on this household and in fact not for many Spanish as the Feast of Epiphany is traditionally Spain’s main festive holiday, when children receive their presents brought not by Santa Claus, but by the Three Kings. While in other countries, Christmas decorations have been packed away and normal working life has resumed, in Spain the holiday spirit continues until January 6th.
On that the day we were heading on a roadtrip to France, while Spaniards are more likely to be tucking into a Roscón de Reyes, a Three Kings cake baked in a ring and decorated with candied fruit and hiding a, sometimes lucrative, surprise.
A small figurine of the baby Jesus, or a little toy for children, is typically hidden inside the dough, as is a dry fava bean. Whoever finds the trinket is crowned king or queen of the celebration, while the one who sees the bean has to buy the Roscón the following year.
We did spot one random King hightailing his way down an escalator while we were in search of a hairdresser on one of our rare “malling” days. The Squire eventually got his haircut, and we never saw that King or his cohorts again.
As both Fudge’s and Junky’s families are now home, the time has come for us to leave just as the Three Kings arrive, you know, the real ones like Santa.