Doing my best to annoy strangers and love donkeys

---

I have discovered the most effective way to get the stranger sitting next to you on a hot bus bothered enough to change seats and move away: start knitting. On the bus to Nerja, I sat next to the window for the nice views- and- although the bus was not by any means full- some older, hairy, sweaty man opted to sit right next to me, despite the vacant seats around me. Usually I have my bag occupying the seat next to me to avoid this annoyance from happening, but on this particular ride it was at my feet. Then the chap puts his sweaty, dirty arm over, and beyond, the arm rest, encroaching on my territory, breathing rather heavily and .. well.. everything about him was unpleasant. Sooo I tried everything i could think of to annoy him enough to move: i squirmed around, hummed to myself, blew my nose, made noises with my mouth (I should have made noises with my butt! 😄), and I kept sneaking my arm on to the arm rest when he was slacking on being possessive.. nothing phased him. Finally, feeling defeated, I pulled out my yarn and knitting needles to pass the time. He immediately made a noise of utter irritation, as if I just sat a screaming child on his lap, and moved to a different seat which he had the row to himself. That was funny and unexpected.

On the way in to Nerja, I had my first paella- local dish of rice and sea food and veg, which i wasn't crazy for as it was less-than-warm and, well, seafood.. which I’m not a fan of. Made it to the donkey rescue centre that evening and was greeted by a friendly volunteer who took me to play pool in town, showing me around, and being very nice getting me settled in. I volunteered there a good 3 weeks and i really enjoyed it! I was only bummed that i couldn't practice much Spanish there.

Most of the volunteers didn't stay on-sight, except me and a very unusual man from Norway (ha!- just kidding, Roger 😄 ) Everyone else had a home nearby or rented apartments, but Roger and I stayed in caravans, which was more 'luxurious' than i expected, all thanks to Roger's handywork. There was electricity, running water, working stove.. he even installed what would pass as a 'shower' .. freezing water that sprays down on you while you stand on a wooden pallet, shivering. But still was more than i expected!

This wasn’t quite like any of the other animal rescue places I worked at, and I really loved it there. All of the horses/mules/donkeys have their own stories of abuse or neglect on why they arrived at the centre. They all have their own interesting personalities and quirks. Everyone’s favourite donkey, Branston, I became familiar with right away as he snuck up behind me, and then tried to bite my neck and mount me! Cheeky little ass (ha, donkey humor). I quite fell for an older donkey called Nando who had a very quiet demeanor, often stood on 3 legs with his eyes closed dozing in the sun, sometimes bullied by the other donkeys, but he loved to let us clean wounds on his leg because he got a treat.

Quick run through of a typical day= wake up, hope animals haven't escaped their pens in the night to greet us, give the dog (Sam) a morning cuddle, eat breakfast while listening to an English radio station based in Spain with (mostly) terrible music and world news. Other volunteers show up and have some more tea/coffee. Move donkeys and horses to their pens for the day, give them food and hay, get angry with the sheep for stealing all the food. Fill water dishes, clean up poop, get annoyed at the sheep for getting in the way, feed all the other critters, chop up veg in buckets for visitors, say hello to visitors and give them buckets of veg to give the animals. Fill in a few breaks, a few more cups of tea, some lunch, some more work, repair stuff, get paint everywhere, cut more veg, talk to more visitors...

Then siesta! no visitors/work for a few hours.. Bask in the sun (well for about 10 minutes until my pasty flesh bursts in to flames and i turn in to one giant freckle), take a nap, watch a movie, go to town, have a beer, (it's hard work at the donkey centre! 😊) .. Then open the gates again, feed everyone again, get angry at the sheep for trying to steal food again, cut more veg, chat with more visitors, open the donkey pens to let them socialise with each other, get angry at the sheep for being so lazy and staring at me with it's creepy eyes, kick the visitors out, lock the gates and enjoy the rest of the night! This usually involves having another beer, a walk to town to a pub for game of pool, cook some delicious dinner, put ointment on my sore back or cream on the flea bites that i somehow procure during the day, wonder how I'm the only one to get so many flea bites, eat dinner, watch a movie, hope all the pens are secure and no donkeys miraculously open the gates with their teeth to greet us in the morning (yes, it HAS happened before!), go to bed... Not a bad life. Although it sounds routine, every day is different and i really enjoy the people and the work and really love the animals there… except that f*king sheep! >😞

Oh, and i was thrown off a horse.

Three weeks of this flies by. Ah yes, i mentioned a bad back- apparently you can not lift a 20kg bail of hay while twisting and shoving it down a pyramid of hay bails that is 3m off the ground... hmm.. This movement causes a bit of muscular pain, but luckily for me, one of the volunteers is experienced with back healing and was able to give me acupuncture outside, where the hay is kept, to relieve the tension that was pressing on my nerve. Hilarious to see a tough Spanish man enter the donkey sanctuary all smiles about to deliver some hay, look over to see a half-naked girl leaning on a chair with needles sticking in her back.. I’ve never seen someone go from ‘tan and smiling’ to ‘white and running away in horror’ so quickly!


I had to leave this life i quite enjoy when my sister and her friend came to visit, which is great because I got to see her again and she had fun in Spain! I can't be bothered to write everything we did, so ask her 😊 .. basically, it was 10days of countless tapas and cañas, unhealthy amounts of coffee, strippers, donkey bites, more tapas and cañas, lots of bus rides, and a few more tapas and cañas.

After my sister left from her 10day visit, I had to decide my next move.. For visa-stay reasons, I had to leave the Schengen countries (i.e. Spain and most of the surrounding countries). As I had originally planned on volunteering in Morocco, but that had fallen through more and more the past 2 weeks and it didn’t feel right to me any more. It’s hard to explain, but it felt too deliberate and rushed to head there, but I’ll go next time 😊 .. and anyway, I can’t fight the current which is now taking me a different direction. Only time will tell what that is... I spent that day online researching where I will go next, where I could volunteer, etc. And made an epic spontaneous decision to flee the country!

Reminding me of one of my favourite quotations:

A Traveller doesn’t know where he is going,
A Tourist doesn’t know where he’s been.

And once again, Ralph and I are off-- In to the Unknown,

^Út Í Óvissuna^

---

Photos

Alahambra
I love the designs of these buildings

Inside Alahambra
one of the buildings

Guinness is good for you
It sure is...