Losing power in every sense

Most of this would have appeared yesterday if I hadn’t been hit by a power cut which wiped out most of what I’d written. Electricity – another thing I can no longer take for granted living on this island.

I was railing about our local estate agents who seem to come up with ever more inventive ways of cocking things up. The day before, Barbara and I had been to see Annette, a somewhat dizzy Swede. As you may remember from my last posting, she’d phoned to say she’d got an apartment to show us which was good quality and at the right price. Unfortunately, she wasn’t in her office so couldn’t tell us any more than that.

We set off with a feeling of optimism. The sun was shining and although the flat wasn’t exactly what we were looking for, it sounded a possibility. Annette was in a colleague’s car in front, a relief to us as it meant we didn’t have to do the usual forced conversation. Mind you, it would have been even worse if we’d had to share a car with her dour colleague. There had never been any danger of a smile crossing her face.

We followed the red Volkswagen through the security gates and turned left, away from the sea. The view’s still beautiful, forested hills with a golf course at the bottom. But as we drove along the narrow road an awful realisation began to dawn on us. The reason Annette couldn’t accurately describe the apartment was because the block hadn’t actually been built yet. I’m sure the apartments will look lovely in June 2006, which is when they’re due for completion, but we’ve got to find somewhere by the end of next month. Annette knows that and even told her colleague who, for the first time, smiled when she was told. (They don’t realise how much Spanish we can understand.)

It should be said that they also offer some text book examples of how not to behave when you’re trying to sell a property. When we arrived at the show flat there were two parking spaces, using one of which meant negotiating piles of rubble, the other was simple and straight in. Guess which one our dynamic duo from the agency used? Then, when showing a property, is it really the best idea to always make sure that you enter a room first so the potential customers have to peer over your shoulder? And finally, they were really good at preventing the customers feeling self-important. They simply ignored us and talked amongst themselves. But, being British, we responded in the only way we could. We apologised.

Then we went back to what we currently call home. I was hardly cheered up by an email from my accountants telling me I’d be pleased to know that the Inland Revenue wouldn’t be asking for any more money from last year’s return. I’d asked them to apply for a rebate.

Yesterday didn’t get any better. We headed off to meet another estate agent, German this time. This time we knew the apartment was old and therefore, at least, was not a figment of the imagination. But my mobile rang and it seems the people currently renting the apartment had changed the locks or something. Anyway, we couldn’t get in. An email from the estate agent later said she didn’t like the building very much anyway.

By the way, we still haven’t heard anything from the English couple who own the flat we’re living in now. The home phone number we have for them doesn’t work and neither do the mobile numbers. Will we be homeless in five weeks?

Today, Thursday, and tomorrow are fiesta days for Easter so we won’t hear any more from estate agents. But, this is Ibiza. We’ve been invited to a party tonight for the re-opening of one of the island’s trendiest bar- restaurant-nightclubs. House hunting can wait.