Transformers and stamps

Mid May, 2006

So a couple of weeks into our new experience, our electric toothbrushes are running low on juice and need recharging. However, they are American and so need different electricity (see my 'Letter Mr Bush' for my views on that little oddity and several other observations about our North American friends). So off we go to get a transformer. Not too difficult you might think ...

• Store 1 - "Do you have transformers?"; "No, but you can get them anywhere .. except here."
• Store 2 - "Do you have transformers?"; "No, but you can get them in Corte Ingles" (a huge department store chain and the only one in Spain of any significance).
• Corte Ingles - hardware department - "Do you have transformers?"; "No, but you can get them in the lighting department."
• Corte Ingles - lighting department - "Do you have transformers?"; "No, but you can get them in the hardware department."
• Corte Ingles - hardware department - ""Do you have transformers?"; "No, but you can get them in the 'electricidad' store, which is .. [detailed directions to nearest store and several others] .., however, you cannot buy the transformer today because it is Saturday and the store is closed. And of course, you cannot buy it tomorrow as it is Sunday. You certainly can't buy it on Monday because ALL the shops are closed as it is Fiesta [pause for thought] .. hmm ... and, come to think of it, you can’t buy it on Tuesday either as that is the day after Fiesta. So you will have to wait until Wednesday. How's your Mum ... great shoes, where did you get them ... blah blah blah?"

Four days later, when our toothbrushes were gasping their last breath, we found an 'electricidad' store and duly bought what we needed. But then, snapping at the heals of that adventure came the most important day of the year - the day you cannot, MUST not forget or even appear to have forgotten if you value your life in any way whatsoever - MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY!!! Yup, we had to embark upon another retail adventure and buy a birthday card and a stamp. Again, not too difficult you might think ..

.. but I quickly discovered that I am in fact in Spain - and the reason I knew that was because all the cards are in Spanish. Doh! How English of me to think that they would be in English. And since Her Ladyship does not speak this glorious language, in the immortal words of one of my great mentors in life, I had to Improvise, Adapt and Overcome. So, I found a card with a suitable picture and words that I thought I understood, with sufficient space under them to handwrite an English translation - hey presto! Of course, I could have written anything I liked and Birthday Girl would never have known the difference, but it's the thought that counts, right? So, I had Improvised and was Adapting, but now I had to Overcome - I had to buy a stamp and actually post the card. Execution.

It took us a day to figure out that stamps are not in fact sold in stores that also sell postcards, envelopes, touristy things or anything in fact that bears any resemblance to mail. No matter how many such stores we went into, the answer was always the same - the shop assistant just smiled wryly with a knowing 'ha ha ha - got you again' look and said "No, not here. Estanco". It took us another day to figure out that 'Estanco' is in fact the name of a government controlled store, and not local slang for 'you idiot, get out of my store'. It took a further two days to actually buy the damn stamp, by which time we had missed the birthday and were now officially In Trouble! You see, the thing with Estancos is that they are actually tobacconists, which it seems the government has said must also sell stamps. It appears that Estancos may have the monopoly on the stamp selling business as this is the only place we have found them. But in a way, that all makes perfect sense - after all you have to go to the tobacconist everyday to buy your daily supply of tobacco products, so having stamps there too saves you a trip somewhere else. And anyway, it's nice for your stamp to smell and taste of cigars.

But the other thing with Estancos, is that they are only open in the mornings (ie until lunch starts) and do not reopen until the afternoon begins, which is of course after lunch ... at 5 ... at precisely the same time as the one and only collection from Madrid's wonderfully large and bright yellow post boxes. Now, I am a man and so am utterly in-capable of multi-tasking. Consequently, I tend to think and act in a serial fashion and so will spend the morning buying and writing my cards and then, and and ONLY then will I remember that I ALSO need to buy stamps. But by that time, of course, it is too late as all the Estanco staff are tucking into their daily feast and unless I buy my stamp the minute an Estanco opens and am lucky enough to mail my card in a box that is to be emptied by a postman who has had a particularly good lunch, I am stuffed until 5pm the next day!!

Ah well. Once posted, to the Spanish mail system's credit, my card actually arrived within a day and so not that late. And we got away with it because there was funny story behind the delay. But I won't get away with it next year!

I wonder if you can use that excuse to explain why you cheque has not arrived - "the cheque will be in the post when the Estanco opens"?

Hasta luego!