(The Lows and there aren't many)
So, we’ve had the highs — and to be honest, there have been lots more of them than I’ve talked about.
But it wouldn’t be fair to Spain to pretend everything is perfect, so let’s talk about some of the lows.
And to be honest, there aren’t many.
Queuing
First up — queuing.
Don't expect to walk into somewhere and immediately see the end of the queue where you think it should be.
At first glance, it can look like nothing more than a jumble of people standing around, chatting loudly and seemingly having absolutely no idea who is actually waiting for what.
Your best chance is to find someone who looks like they know what’s going on and ask:
“¿El último de la fila?”
Who is the last in the queue?
Normally, you’ll discover that the last person is the lady sitting down, nowhere near the group of people milling around the bank cashier or near the butcher’s counter.
I’ve seen people walk into queues totally bewildered, stand there for a couple of minutes, look around, and eventually just wander off.
Luckily, most of the time, if you look sufficiently lost, someone will point you towards the last person in line.
Then you just stand behind them and hope for the best.
Paperwork
Ohhh my God.
The paperwork in Spain.
It is a job.
From the simplest little thing to getting a mortgage signed off, it seems to be the same story.
Everything has to be ticked.
Everything has to be stamped.
Everything has to be in exactly the right order.
And if it isn't?
You're not getting what you came in for.
One of the things that still makes me laugh is trying to pay a bill.
You go in to pay the water or electricity bill and are told:
“Sorry, but this isn't in your name.”
But... I'm paying a bill.
How hard can it be?
Apparently, very hard.
There is a form somewhere that needs filling in first.
Buying a car
Buying a car in Spain is another experience altogether.
Now, I'm not saying it's difficult, but it is very different from Britain.
You walk into a British car showroom expecting the salesmen to jump up immediately and come over to you.
You brace yourself for the sales pitch.
You know the routine.
You’re already preparing your excuses for why you absolutely, definitely, cannot possibly buy the car today.
In Spain?
They don't even get up from their seats.
You have to go over to them.
“Excuse me, can you tell me a bit more about this Ford?”
And they will.
Calmly.
Without chasing you around the showroom.
Without asking what it would take to get you to buy it today.
Without following you out into the car park.
I went to buy a car a few years ago and, having looked at lots of showrooms and different models, I eventually bought the car from the place where they actually gave me some attention.
Because, let's be honest, buying a car is a big purchase for anyone.
It should feel like a special event.
Don't get me wrong — they weren't rude.
Not at all.
They just do things very differently from what I was used to.
You would think this would be a relief.
And strangely enough...
you actually miss the attention.
I mean, I'm not buying a pint of milk here.
I'm buying a car!
And when I finally decided which one I wanted, I proudly announced:
“Right, I can pay for it now. In full. Cash.”
I was expecting that to be the moment when the salesman suddenly discovered his negotiating skills.
So I asked:
“Can I have some sort of deal?”
He looked at me and simply said:
“No.”
????
And that was it.
No negotiation.
No special price.
No dramatic conversation.
Just...
No.
I wasn't expecting that.
But then again, that's Spain.
And after a while, you realise that one of the great things about living here is learning that not everything has to be done the way you were used to doing it back home.