Chasing the dream in spain

Our house in the UK is now up for rent with a letting agency. They have put a sign up in the front garden. Now the cat really is amongst the pigeons. You see, we live in a quiet crescent where nothing ever happens. We get the police car that crawls past twice a year very slowly, I think it's meant to make us think we are getting value for money with our council tax. And there was that time when the woman across the road in the big house had a blazing row with her ex husband in her front garden about eight years ago (tut tut, dirty laundry in public, not the done thing). Curtains are twitching and tongues are wagging. I've only lived here about sixteen years, but Linda has lived here for well in excess of thirty years, since just after the houses were built. Everyone knew everyone's business, or so they thought. You could see people were desperate to know the gossip. Finally, after about two hours, somebody plucked up the courage to knock on the door and ask. "You're doing what!", "but you didn't tell anyone!". Give it a few days for the shockwaves to work their way round the crescent and get to the corner shop, ( that isn't actually on a corner???), and the gossip machine will really get into full swing! "But Linda will miss the grandchildren!". The way it's looking, we'll be out about three days before we get "invaded", just enough time to unpack and fill the fridge. We went out and bought a new laptop with a camera and microphone on it, so the grandchildren can "see" grandma and grandad. Let's hope the Spanish Internet is up to it, though I think it might be a struggle, even getting a signal for a mobile phone can require some ingenuity.