Simple things in life....

Sometimes the simplest things in life, things we take for granted, are not so simple after all.

In the last few days, I've had some new experiences in Spain.

• I went out for dinner with a friend, had a great time, came home and went to bed. Next morning I woke up as usual but to discover my watch had stopped. Okay, no worries, just get a new battery fitted and all's well. Full of confidence with my new language skills, I asked my Spanish family where I needed to go to get a battery. In Australia, we would go to a jeweller's and it would be done pretty well straight away. However, I have learned that not all things are the same in Spain (eg. you buy postage stamps from a tobacconist booth). So, back to the watch. In Spain you go to a Relojeria to buy watches, get them fixed and buy and get batteries fitted. These shops are much like jewellers, but not all jewellers are relojerias. By the way, the Spanish word for clock is a reloj and a wrist watch is a reloj de pulsera (literally clock of the wrist). So far so good, there is a relojeria close by. However, in Spain, August is holiday time. Therefore, lots of shops are closed for vacation. I eventually found 3 relojerias but all closed. I figured I could do without my watch for a few days and once I got to London, I'd try to find the relevant shop. However, when I mentioned the closed shops to Pepe, he insisted on taking my watch with him on his and Trini's afternoon walk and was lucky enough to find a relojeria open and 4 euros later, I had a functioning watch.  I offered to pay him commission but he wouldn't let me.

• At the post office:- Now this was an interesting experience. I had decided that I wanted to send some miscellaneous items home to Australia rather than keep lugging them around London & Germany. I was also conscious of the weight of my luggage and the need to manoeuvre it through more airports, bus and train stations. So, I found the local post office, worked out their opening times (only in the mornings in August, it's holiday time you know) and ventured in. Hmmm, lots of counters but no envelopes, boxes or the like to send things in. I also hadn't seen any shops selling these types of items so thought best go home and ask the all-knowledgeable Pepe. Armed with the new knowledge from Pepe, I returned to the post office and entered through the other entrance (below ground)  but on locating the counter, was told that I had to go upstairs to buy the boxes and then go to the postal counter. So, back upstairs, discovered you have to push a button to get a number first (after lining up for a few minutes). Okay, easy - got to the counter. No, wrong counter. Need to go to counter 11. So off I go to counter 11, got my box, then had to take it to be weighed, then back to counter 11 to fill in the declaration form, then, get my number and line up again to have it officially weighed and pay my money. Lucky I have enough Spanish to work this all out from what they told me as there was no signage to indicate any of these requirements. We'll find out just how successful this transaction was when my parcel arrives in safely in Australia!!

• I also had to go to the main bus station today to finalise my ticket to Madrid to catch my flight to London. Everywhere else I've been, the bus station is quite central and easy to get to and buying a ticket is very simple. In Granada, the bus stations is several kilometres away from the centre and you basically need to take a bus or taxi. Luckily, there is a bus stop just out the front of the building I've been living in so really simple to get a bus. Approx 30 minutes later I arrived and walked in expecting to be on my way again in 10 - 15 minutes. Don't know what was happening in Granada today, the but line up was very, very long. I stood in line for 40 minutes before I got to the window and I noticed a lot of anxious faces. I discovered the anxious faces belonged to people who had specific buses to catch and they didn't have time to get to the counter before the bus left. I was very happy to let a couple of elderly ladies go in front of me so they could catch their bus on time. Even so, when I left, the line was just as long. Maybe it's just that it's holiday time in Spain or maybe something wasn't working as it should. It appeared that a lot of people in the line already had tickets so maybe there was a major breakdown or something and tickets needed to be changed. It was all very strange.

Spain just keeps handing out different and surprising experiences to compare with life back home in Australia. That's part of the fun of travelling! I've been trying to consider our processes through the eyes of a foreigner. They probably have just as many funny stories to tell about how Australia functions as well. I guess it's all about what you are used to.