Who is doing the donkey work now?

Since Matilde and Ruby are now confined to camp, following yesterday’s Great Escape and being marched back by the Policia Local, it fell to me to go and do the donkey work… I have cycled up the hill with my bicycle trailer and returned with the bale of new straw and the bale of forage. Of course, this did require a halt at the Bar Moli in Finestrat, for refreshment.

The PSOE (the Spanish Socialist Party) were having their annual dinner in the bar, so my bicycle and trailer became a focus of attraction from a socialist perspective. I told them that the industrial revolution had finally reached Finestrat. They seemed reasonably happy with the news.
I stopped on the fast downhill ride home to take this photo of the house, “Elca Seriu” from a distance. It is just above the trailer in the photo.


And then I carried on, with great confidence, at full pelt. With smile on my face and the kind of happiness you have when you are scattering straw around the countryside on a bright sunny day, after a couple of pints. And crashed on the next corner. It looked at first like one of those tragic accidents that occur in Thomas Hardy novels, and a whole community eventually suffers as a result, with people drowning themselves with the guilt and being hanged at the assizes. Fortunately, I just righted the trailer and continued on my way without any of this drama. Sometimes I think Thomas Hardy really didn’t know anything about country life.

But, having righted the bike trailer and pedaled up the last bit of hill, I finally got there and proudly showed the donks that I can be a better donkey than they are, heaving loads around the countryside…

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About Gareth Thomas

A fairly mixed career starting as an aircraft technician and later Franciscan friar eventually led into secondary school teaching. I settled in Spain where I teach Geography part-time and spend the rest of my time looking after the needs of four donkeys in a remote location in the mountains in the Costa Blanca. I have two blogs: a geography blog and a donkey blog.
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4 Responses to Who is doing the donkey work now?

  1. damagedjock says:

    how long will yon’ twa bales last ye?…ken?

  2. Frere Rabit says:

    Well, if I was eating them, they would last me six months, but the donks seem to get through a bale of straw and a bale of feed every week. That’s in addition to grain feed and the green stuff in their pasture. Plus carrots for treats once a day and the occasional Ritz cracker. Which reminds me, I must go in search of a salt block for them.

    How’s Rome treating you? I bet you’re loving the philosophy. Drop in at All Saints Anglican Church some time (Via Babuino, near Piazza Spagna). There’s a lovely 19th c mock Gothic stained glass St Anselm window with a rabbit in it.

  3. damagedjock says:

    mmnn?…interesting??….I shall do old boy. These bloody rabbits get everywhere!!
    I was contemplating your strange and arduous journey to Finestrat quite recently and for some odd reason Finestere popped into my head….Odd because I dont have any space in my head at the moment..but from Finestere to Finestrat is the uninteresting point Im making I guess?……ah well. yeah Rome is good and bad as you know. But Im plodding on. There are daily challenges which I will avoid discussing on here but will hopefully be able to run past you in the not too distant future?
    The phil is all becoming a tad tedious to be honest and compared to last semester this semester is a non event and I thought I’d enjoy it more. Blimey these donks can eat!!
    Hasta luego

  4. steve says:

    That straw. Jesus, you’ve got more patience than me. Why not get 8.2 to follow you and sweep up any bits that get lost. I reckon they’d be good at that. Then get the donks to grade the exams. The mud rolling comes to mind here. And then disguise each memory stick in a carrot and bury it. Deeply. Anyway, here is a little bit of Pinter to drive you forward on days when you have no carrots.

    Is that boy up yet?
    I’ve not seen him down.
    That boy’ll be late for his breakfast.
    But there is no breakfast.
    Yes, but he doesn’t know that.

    Cheers and thanks for saying good morning to me.

    Steve.

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