Last night at the local bar the guys had a conversation with a friend called Antonio. He told us he had a place in the country, and he would sell it to us. He has a thick Andalucian accent and a penchant for sherry, so the conversation to be frank wasn’t that clear.
He said it had three pools and five buildings. Or maybe it was three ponds. Anyway, it has water. There is a big house. He mused on that that and qualified that maybe it needed some work (we discussed quietly that maybe he said there was no roof). I’m quite keen.
Antonio does what the guys do when they keep track of bets on card games – he writes on the counter in chalk. That’s the price he says. PK is looking worried. I think maybe if I spit on my hand and shake with Antonio it will seal the deal. Diego offers helpfully to take photos of the farm and send them. PK is looking sideways at me and pushing me towards the door. But it’s a bargain I say! Come on!!