Living in Spain as an Expat

We have a type of 'promenade' at the bottom of our little Spanish village.  It runs from far beyond the south of the village to the pine trees in the north.  On first view, it makes the village look a little like a seaside town.  However, in this case, standing on 'the prom' and looking down you do not see the sea, but a valley full of olive trees and farm land, with the mountains beyond.

The prom glows white in the sunshine.  It is swept regularly by the village 'maintenance crew', who have recently planted young trees at the prom's northern end, possibly to separate it from the road which runs alongside.

The prom gives our little Spanish village a unique charm and provides the ideal location for a village 'meeting place'.  Every evening, except for when it's raining, many of the locals gather in groups on the prom.  They sit with their legs dangling over the edge onto the road while sharing a joke or two and the latest village gossip.

Teenagers use the prom to meet and put the world to rights.  Mothers sit with their chidren, carefully watching to make sure they do not  fall over the edge into the valley below.  And dog walkers and ramblers begin their treck on the prom before they take a more energetic path up and down the undulating fields beyond the village.

As well as sitting and chatting, many of the locals take an evening stroll along the prom.  If the weather is hot, they will rest a while in the shade of the pines at the northern end, before making their way back again, stopping and chatting to new groups of 'promenaders' as they go.

A visitor to our little Spanish village will probably remark that the promenade adds great charm to the place.  Many stop and take pictures of 'this charming rural Spanish scene'.  Perhaps they will wonder why more villages in Spain do not have a promendade of this nature...

Truth be told, the prom is actually a safety measure, set up to protect unsuspecting walkers and car drivers from falling into the canal which flows beneath, making its way from a large lake 30 or so kilometres south, to a filtration plant in the north.

The white 'walkway' is built from concrete slabs, many of which have handles built in for engineer's cranes to grasp if they need to remove a slab to do major work on the canal below.  It was never designed to be a walkway, although its structure makes it ideal for that.

When you walk along the prom you will find the occasional small hole, where the concrete has crumbled away.  One hole is so large you can see the canal water far below.  When you see this, you just hope that the slabs you are walking on are well-inspected and are not going to crumble the same way any time soon!

The 'prom', like so many other things about life in Spain, is there for a purpose, pure and simple.  It may look charming to travellers searching for 'the real Spain'.  To expat eyes, it may even remind them of the seaside towns of their youth.

But like so many aspects of living in Spain as an expat, if you look deeper you will find something else...

Living in Spain as an expat can be tough if you are a dog lover.  As you drive through Spain you can see dogs wandering the streets.  Many will be well cared for pets, just 'let outside for the day', but there are also an awful lot of stray dogs in Spain.

When we moved to Spain we brought our two hounds with us.  Our Spanish village house is quite small and two large dogs in the place was quite enough.  We didn't bargain for taking in any more.

On our travels we saw many stray Spanish dogs and we felt sorry for them, particularly the ones who looked ill and underfed.  We have even taken to carrying a tin of dog food in our car in case this helps.  But we also knew that once we gave in and took in one of these Spanish strays, it could be like opening the floodgates to every stray dog in Spain.

And we kept our resolve... until one dark and stormy night...

Spanish 'tormentas' are well named.  Until we lived in Spain we had never exerienced quite the same fury that storms reach here, especially when you live in a fully exposed Spanish mountain village.

On the night in question, the wind howled, rain lashed down flooding the village streets, lightning flashed and thunder roared.  But something howled even louder than the noise of that Spanish tormenta; it was the pitiful cry of a little stray dog.

This little Spanish stray had been following my husband around for a while.  Each time he took our hounds for a walk she was there, padding along as if she was part of the pack.  But once back at our house, my husband had shooed her away (although sometimes he had given her a drink of water...), knowing the repercussions of inviting her in.

But on that particular night, in the midst of a full blown Spanish tormenta, what else could he do?  He opened the door and in dashed the little Spanish stray, soaked to the skin and shivering with cold and fear.  Needless to say, after a good rub down with a warm towell, she soon made herself at home.

Over a year has passed since we took in our little Spanish stray.  She has made herself an integral part of the pack and made it clear that this is her home.  In that time, she has cost us mucho dinero in vets bills because, being a stray for so long, she had quite a few health problems which had to be cleared up.

Nowadays our little Spanish stray is a little bit the plump side because she wolfs down every meal (and anything else she can find to eat) as if it will be her last.  I guess this is part of her heritage as a stray.

Life without our littleSpanish stray would be dull now.  Even our other two hounds miss her when she has to make one of her visits to the vet.

The neighbours in our Spanish village obviously think we are mad taking in a stray, but when there are other strays in the villlage, the local children often knock on our door and ask if we would like to take them in.  We politely decline and try to avert our eyes from the appealing little dogs they place in front of us.  It's hard, but our tiny Spanish house is simply not big enough to become a refuge for stray pets.

Living in Spain as an expat means being part of the village culture, but when it comes to stray dogs it can tug at your heart...