Mr President. That’s how I’m supposed to address Philip now. In Spain, the person elected to manage a block of apartments is called the President. A grand title for a thankless job. Philip has just been elected as the President of our building and he thinks that makes me the First Lady. Somehow, I doubt Melania would have been pushing a wet mop over a terrace for an hour this morning.
In the three years I’ve been living here in Tenerife I’ve noticed plenty of little differences from the UK. When driving around a roundabout, for example, nobody uses the inside lane. If you’re taking the third exit, you just stay in the outside lane all the time. If you do take the inside lane, you’ll probably hit a car whenever you decide to move over. On the plus side, one thing I love here is that, generally, you can park where you like and nobody cares: in bus lanes, on zebra crossings and in the middle of busy roads (literally).
Shops still close for the siesta and on Sundays. Lunch is usually the main meal of the day while dinner is a bit lighter and eaten at around 10pm. I’m usually stirring my cocoa at that time.
But, the main difference I see here is that life is a little slower. People are kinder, families are closer and communities seem more cohesive. I don’t know why; maybe it’s the climate or the whole Spanish approach to life. I still love visiting London but the calm of Tenerife is always very welcome. I think Melania would like it here.