Fresh fields and Internet pastures new!

Now, where was I up to?

We'd got the flat sorted. Now we needed Internet access. It really was tedious having to go to an internet cafe when we were both used to having access 24/7. Besides, we wanted to skype friends and family and, what's more, Phil had a translation deadline looming!

Internet access proved to be another little Spanish mystery. We kept seeing hardware on offer at really good prices but software and systems seemed harder, or at least pricier, to come by. R-Galicia, a local provider recommended by many, including our friendly estate agents was only contactable by Internet or by Spanish phone (uh oh, I see another catch-22 coming up!) so we bought Spanish mobiles: a bargain at two for 39 euros! You see what I mean about the cheap hardware?

Talking to R-Galicia, I discovered that for a largish price they would install cable to the flat, provide us with a phone and a broadband connection. Great, just too costly, too complicated and we would need the landlady's permission. So we began to trawl around Internet and the shops for offers on broadband. (You can become heartily sick of repeating over and over again: Hola, somos ingleses .... etc, etc, explaining just what it was we wanted. And it had to be me with my superior Spanish. My smile was getting a little forced!) Everything came back to the need for a phone in the flat to make the broadband connection work. Surely a refurbished flat MUST have a phone line. Rummaging behind curtains, following odd wires to see where they went, eventually we found what looked remarkably like a phone connection. Hooray! A quick photo so that we had something to show the retailers and back we went to the IT provider outlets.

Yes, that was a phone socket, yes, there was a line to the flat but, what a shame, it needed to be activated by Telefonica, once again at great cost. If we paid out that sum of money, they could offer us wonderful deals on broadband, free calls to all sorts of other phone numbers in Spain and any amount of other stuff as well. Grrrrrr!! We were beginning to get a teensy bit fed up but, always a silver lining, we were getting to know which were the best Internet cafes in our area, including one just around the corner from chez nous but just too far away for us to piggyback onto their network! Pity!

It was at this point, finally that we spoke to Angel in the The Phone House. Angel by name and angel by nature, he told us about Internet Everywhere, a mobile modem provided by Orange. It was still more expensive than the service we had used in the UK but it was a solution.

His little branch of The Phone House, however, was about to be closed down so he sent us to a branch in the Alaxe shopping centre (a large blue building, a veritable temple to consumerism, down by the port, cleverly placed to dominate the area and spoil the view of the islands) where his colleague had obviously been warned to expect two apparently mad, rather aging English people. We signed up and then discovered that if we wanted to take it away there and then and not wait until Monday we needed ID, proof of address and proof of bank details. Aaaargh! We traipsed back from the port to the flat, picked up all the documents, went back to Alaxe, did the deal and headed for home with our modem. By now it was about 9.30 on a Saturday evening and the girl in the shop had not shown any signs of impatience. What a treasure!

We signed up! Phil spent HOURS making it work. We were back online! Since then we have discovered that most of the time it works fine although sometimes it slows down to snail's pace, possibly affected by the number of users at any one time or, since it works on some kind of mobile phone connection, maybe affected by atmospheric conditions. Who am I to understand such things? I just use it and keep my fingers crossed.

Having organised this, the following Monday I took a trip to the bank to sort out a few things: a standing order for the rent, putting the "Aval" (rent guarantee) money onto a high interest account, picking up a debit card (posted to the bank for security reasons - once activated the PIN - numero secreto would also be posted to the bank for security reasons) and setting up Internet banking. All seemed in order and so, about a week later I checked online that our first month's rent had indeed been paid.

Yes, it had but there appeared to be only 135 euros left in the account!!! What was going on? Where was the money which had been transferred from England? What about the piles of 50 euro notes collected with such effort from ATMs, leaving me almost unable to go past a hole-in-the-wall without compulsively withdrawing my daily limit? Orange were soon going to debit the account for a payment on the mobile modem. Were we going to be overdrawn within a few weeks of opening the account? Would we have a bad credit record from the word go?

On closer inspection I discovered that almost all our finds were in the high interest, fixed term account. Back I scurried to the bank once more and learned that the wonderful, helpful Monica had indeed put the bulk of our cash into the high interest account, arranging for a sum to be removed each month to pay the rent. Was that not what I wanted? Er, no! Why, oh why did I never study business and banking Spanish? What use is it to be able to have great political and philosophical debates and know all sorts of things about Spanish literature if I couldn't deal with the bank? Why had I let myself be carried away by Monica's amusing anecdotes instead of concentrating on the nitty-gritty of opening accounts? But in the end it was not a problem. Monica transferred funds across and all was well.

Wow, perhaps now we could just get on with living here!