I couldn’t sleep all night – not when such a significant arrival was imminent.  Eventually I roused myself at 8am to greet the day.

I opened the curtain.  Oh dear – a cloudy sky for the first time in five days, and most unusual here.  Oncle was coming from France on a last minute whim to escape the rain hail and snow there and I hoped things would improve.  Warmly clothed, I cleaned up the little house, swept away the pine needles from out front,  went to the shop to get water and cereal and picked a few flowers for my guest’s bedroom on the way back.

‘Have you landed yet?’ I texted, followed by instructions to get to me.  No response for a while then the ring of the phone to alert me to a new sms.  ‘On my way’ it read, followed by ‘Here!’ about 30 minutes later.

I walked down to reception breaking into a bit of jog as I spotted the familiar blue shirted sight of my companion for the next five days. We greeted each other, hopped into the hire car and I took him to my abode.

‘Well this is lovely!’ he exclaimed.  ‘So nice, so pretty with everything you need – a kitchen here, the bathroom, a table – and the beds look very comfortable.  I brought some fruit and water – we must keep drinking that , it’s very important you know’.  I got out my new espresso machine to make some coffee whilst Oncle chopped a watermelon up for his breakfast. The familiar percolating sound a few minutes later and some hot milk produced his first Spanish latte a la Bungalow 103.  We caught up.  I introduced him to Mavis (for that is La Bicycletta’s name) and my neighbours;  filled him in on the story so far.

Stepping outside I felt a soft drop of something:  ‘Oh, gosh, I think it’s beginning to rain!’ I said.  ‘For goodness sake!  I didn’t get up at 5am, suffer Ryanair and book all this to get rain and cold – it’s absolutely baltic!’  ‘I know’ I replied, ‘You’ve obviously brought the weather with you – I think I’m going to have to put another sweater on’.  We stood opposite each other drinking water and giggling.  ‘Best to have a nap, I think’.  ‘Yes, and by the time you wake, hopefully the sun will have come out’.

We each retired to our well appointed bedrooms and I lay down with my cosy blue blanket over me, sounds of the birds chirping away outside and that particular stillness that comes with siesta time – and in this case, a light drizzle.

‘Have you got a hot water bottle?!’ Oncle shouted out through the wall.