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The Sound of ‘Tranquility’

I awoke with a start this morning. A strident noise was piercing my eardrums. It was the sound of a car horn, a very loud car horn, blasting up the street. The ‘Bread Lady’ was early today.

The Bread lady drives a smallish white van. Every day except Sundays she arrives at the village some time between 7.30am and noon. There doesn’t appear to be a set time (although I suppose that is it ….). The Bread Lady parks her van at the bottom of each street. Then she blasts the horn continuously for a minute or so. If no one comes to see her she gives the horn a few more long blasts, but they usually do. In fact, even between distributing her bread to customers she still gives the horn the odd blast …… just in case anyone didn’t hear the first time.

I have yet to buy bread from The Bread Lady, being a ’sliced bread person’ myself (and all comments on my favourite Spanish loaf have already been made, thank you…)

But the bread does look nice, and my neighbours have asked me on a couple of occasions “quieres pan?”, but so far I have answered “No, gracias. Ahora no.” Because I have been up to my eyes in decorating at the time. But I must buy some bread from the Bread Lady soon.

Most of the Bread Lady’s customers have set orders which she will deliver daily; selling the odd loaf or two to a passer by is just a bonus to her. So if I like the bread (and I no doubt will) I will be expected to order it. The trouble is, as her ‘delivery time’ is somewhat unpredictable, her customers cannot really wait around by one of her ‘pitches’ until she arrives. Hence the blasting of the horn.

If you are a regular customer and you do not answer the Bread Lady’s ‘call’, then she will give your bread to one of your neighbours, or, if your house is close to one of her ‘pitches’, she will leave your bread outside your door. Now this second option does not really appeal to me: there are too many village dogs wandering around, not to mention the moscas …. The woman in the house at the bottom of our street is often out when the Bread Lady calls, so she has her own solution. She has hung a string bag to the street light fixed to her house. The Bread Lady simply deposits her bread in there. The bread is never wrapped however, and if not collected within a short time must warm up nicely in the sun. Moscas are quite partial to the aroma of warm bread …… I wouldn’t fancy eating it. I haven’t yet taken a photo of the ‘bread bag’, but I found another similar ‘bread holder’ at Flickr. This one was discovered in a street in Barcelona. Seems it’s a pretty common way to collect your daily bread!

The Bread Lady isn’t the only person who delivers her wares to the village on a regular basis. We also have the ‘Frozen Food Man’, who delivers several times a week. The horn on the Frozen Food Man’s van is not quite as loud as the one belonging to the Bread Lady, but it plays a jangly little tune …. over and over again. The Frozen Food Man is more adventerous than the Bread Lady; he drives up and down the village streets, blasting his horn as he goes. It can grate a little after a while ……

There is also the ‘Gas Man’ of course, who delivers bottled gas a couple of times a week. He has a large truck, but he tries to pull in closer up the village streets. Gas bottles can be bloody heavy to carry up hill! The Gas Man has his own way of letting customers (which in this case is almost everyone in the village) know he is around (or will be around ….) First he drives along the road at the bottom of the village, sounding the vehicle’s extremely loud horn. He stops at the side of the road, gives a few more long blasts on the horn …… and drives off towards the next village. No one struggles down the street with gas bottles at this point as they know the routine. After thirty minutes or so, the Gas Man returns (having played out the first part of this routine in the next village on his route). He sounds his horn as he drives along and then drives up the streets as far as he can (in the case of our street, that means that he parks just down the street from our house ……with a truck full of gas bottles ……)

Then the Gas Man sounds his horn again (only a couple of times thank god!) and waits a while …… Gas bottles are very large, so unless you are running hot water and central heating from gas (and it’s not to be advised, as those bottles are so heavy), you won’t need to exchange your gas bottle that often (and everyone has a spare in any case). So often the Gas Man’s sales are few, but, because he provides an essential service, he comes round twice a week, rain or shine …… blasting away at his horn.

As I write this, another delivery man has arrived. His van horn is similar to the Bread Lady’s and he is blasting away with complete abandon. I haven’t looked to see what the man is selling yet, but he is another regular here. And this one is not at all shy. He supplements the horn with dialogue, yelling and almost yodelling at the top of his voice. I must find out what he’s saying one day ……

This cacophony of ‘delivery van noise’ occurs here most days in one form or another and can go on up until about 1pm. If the traders are running late, it will carry on into the siesta period.

The estate agents talk of our village as ‘tranquil’. Obviously they always visit here in the late afternoon ……