Ansó, 29 August
by Isabel Isherwood - 07:25 on 29 August 2016
Our first night in what is to be our home for the year. The girls wildly excited, Jake and I with slightly more misgivings as we’re more aware of the complexity of what we’re embarking on here…….
First impressions: Hot, dry, even parched; there has apparently been no rainfall in two and a half months. Grass is bleached white in places and on the forested hills autumn colours are starting to show. Griffon vultures wheel above the limestone scarps and red kites patrol the valleys. Black redstarts everywhere.
The house is large, stone-built, recently redecorated (although not particularly to our taste….) crammed with furniture (23 chairs in the main livingroom!). Tiny patio/garden – Rowan a little dismayed. Ground floor of the house has a large open-plan kitchen/dining/living room, first floor has a smaller second kitchen/living room. The owner tells us the house will be too cold to use the downstairs in the winter, but Jake and I both take a dislike to the upstairs kitchen which is tacky, painted in puce and hideously furnished. We resolve to make the downstairs work for as long as possible…..
The top floor is airy and bright, with a big room that will work as an office for Jake and a smaller room with a balcony overlooking the street which Rowan falls in love with. Javier, the landlord tells us this is the most important room in the house, from which one can ‘controllar’ the street – I think this is monitor rather than control, but we like the idea nevertheless! Iona also loves the balcony room, but with great maturity offers to let Rowan have it as she will like to play on the balcony to make up for the lack of garden; Iona chooses a room on the middle floor and sets about collecting furniture from around the house to make the room suit her.
Apart from the balcony, the highlight for both girls is that as residents we are entitled to a remote-control clicky-button thing which operates a rising bollard, enabling us to drive through the town’s tiny, crooked cobbled streets. This is clear evidence of our status as Not Tourists.
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