Kiki’s Spain writings: ‘Okay, this was the scariest night on the mountain so far’
Good morning beauties! How are you? Welcome to a new episode of Kiek-still-lives-on-a-magic-mountain-in-Spain. A magical mountain. Should I occasionally throw in some Spanish words? Then we’ll learn something here too.
I hope you slept better this noche than I did, because here in Mutxamel the roof tiles were flying off the house. No joke. Where I associate an average strong storm from the Netherlands with code red (stay indoors as much as possible, don’t go out, trees can fall, etc.), I experienced something last night that would not be out of place as code black for the first time.
I’m not easily scared by a little wind (un poco de viento), but when you go to sleep with all the windows closed against all your principles while you hear everything flying through the garden, you know it’s serious. The higher you live, the weirder the gusts of wind can be here. In any case, nature here is all about extremes. When it’s windy here, it’s WINDY. So hard that you suddenly think of a hurricane. Moreover: everything you don’t clean up stormproof flies straight into the olive valley.
So I didn’t know what hit me the first time I woke up at night from a loud bang. Until a few seconds later I saw my mother’s partner running in the pitch dark behind the rain pipe, already flying towards the valley again. Not much later, the corrugated roof of the shed flew after it and hey, is that the water tank? Are we going to have fun here or are the pets and cows going to start flying too and have I ended up in fucking Final Destination?
Anyhow, that was last year. In the meantime, a person learns to make a house reasonably windproof quite quickly. With full confidence, my mother lets us take care of her little palace this week while she is on vacation in Madrid. No pasa nada mama, we’ll manage. We thought…
My deep sleep is suddenly interrupted. I am wide awake in one go from a deafening sharp sound. Jesus, San! What IS this??? An alarm is going off in the house. Not just any alarm, this is a kind of air raid siren times TEN combined with a shrill beep that an average smoke detector would be jealous of.
WIEEEHOEEE-IEEHOEEEIEEHOEEHOEE IIIIEE-OEEEE. Iiiiieeeeee!!! Every letter I type does justice to the sharpness of this awful sound.
It’s 01:27 and there is pure panic in the bedroom. The cat is flying through the casita, my hands are frantically searching for the light switch and Sander flies upright out of bed in a stress reaction. This sound can only be tolerated for a moment and we have no idea how to turn off the alarm. Until we are thankfully rescued by a Spanish voice from a little box that interrupts the sound: ‘Esta todo bien? Everything oké?’
Ah okay, this man works for the alarm company. Great. Mi madre has secured her house well.
‘No, we don’t know what’s going on!’ my love shouts. ‘Are you Gary?’ asks the man from the alarm system this time somewhat suspiciously (Gary is my mother’s partner). Oh crap, just our luck, he thinks we are the burglars here. ‘No, no we are not Gary. Uhm. I’m his son!’ It’s the fastest thing that comes out of Sander’s mouth and I can’t help but laugh at his English in this panic reaction. Two minutes later we get a call from my mother. ‘Is everything okay there? We were called by the alarm center. A cat is jumping in the living room in front of the sensor and that’s why the alarm went off.’
‘Of course that cat is jumping around like crazy. Outside, the sister of hurricane Katrina is active, I would be panicked too if I were a cat,’ I shout through the phone.
The next morning we assess the damage. The curtain rails of the outdoor seating area have flown off, Gary’s fish ornament above the pool is smashed, plus some cushions that are wandering in the olive grove and a fallen banana plant. According to my mother, that’s still a pretty decent score for an average storm in this place.
You see: you have no idea what adventures await you when you just step into a new life. What I know after eight weeks in Spain: never a dull moment on this montaña…
Until next week, Amayzers!
PS. Follow me on @kikiduren for more Spanish adventures!
Photography credits: Jade Harms
