“Oh, yeah, amigdalitis isn’t strep, Cat, it’s tonsilitis.” Immediately visions of guy Rimbey’s tonsil operation in the fourth grade had me queasy again. I asked Kelly what to do.
Taking stock of the appliances and kitchen supplies later, there were: random cutlery, unmatched pots and pans, a paella maker, a low-power microwave, a broken iron and a hot water heater. The TV was a mystery to turn on, but the gas-lit water tank took the cake. Literally, because I had no oven to bake one in.
I came to love that house on C/Numancia, even with all of the broken things and heavy wooden furniture. Our landlords gave us permission to paint, gave us money for new pots and pans and Sanne’s boyfriend brought over a toaster. We even got a sandwich maker, which was used seldomly because it was a PAIN to clean.
Moving into Kike’s house was a treat. He has an oven and an electric water tank heater, so I can take long showers right after he does. But where’s the microwave? And the dryer? I’ve had to make toast in the oven, fry hot dogs and follow the weather forecast in order to have my clothes hang dry on the line outside my fourth-floor apartment.
If you’re thinking of coming to Southern Spain and expect to find everything in condition like your house back home, think again. Here are four things you’d be lucky to find in an older house:
Automatic Stove top
Yeah, that’s the other thing. As I mentioned above, the whole stove thing is tricky. You need to find the nearest dollar store, buy a bit box of matches and turn on the bombona tank. Then, careful enough not to singe your hair or burn off your fingers, turn the stove dials and throw the match on it. At least, that’s how this anti-pyro did it. These oven are practical to save gas, but they sure suck. I am happy to clean and re-clean my vitro ceramica!