Well after all that, having been up to Reception to enquire, I was told that today, 'Columbus Day' is nothing more than a Bank Holiday, just like back home, and just another excuse for the Spaniards to do nothing.
This morning started off cloudy and breezy but by the afternoon had brightened up and it became a lovely warm sunny day, which was just as well as The Chef did the remainder of her hand washing. Tomorrow we tackle the bedding again, though this time we don't have access to two suitable trees between which to hang a clothes line, which is rather annoying given the number of trees there are here.
The boiler continues to show a normal reading on the control panel when I flick it on, suggesting that the problem stems from the overfilling of the gas cylinders at the Autogas pumps, and as we've now used up some gas from each cylinder has decided to grace us with its services again, though I can't be certain. I have yet to hear back from Truma (who make the boiler) Support Team, but I'm not now as desperate as I was a few days ago.
I need to sit down with The Chef this evening and work out a modified itinerary to account for the possibility that the boiler may let us down again without warning.
During the day yet more Brits have arrived, and they all seem to know one another, so I guess this is the start of the 'Snow Birds' season (they fly south for the winter). Pre Brexit many Brits came down to Spain, often from October through to the end of March to escape the UK winters, and who can blame them, especially right now as Boris the Clown and his troupe of incompetents have emptied the supermarket shelves, caused a fuel shortage, and will create an enormous fuel poverty crisis this winter caused by the lack of our gas storage capacity, thus leaving the UK to the mercy of Russia's richest gangster, Vladimir Putin, who unsurprisingly won yet another election recently. I suppose it's easy to do when you ban or imprison all your competitors and employ your very own ballot box stuffers.
Heading south for the winter was something we had planned to do when I retired, but had to concede it just wasn't for us. Some people like to try and get brown over winter whilst lying and sitting around doing not very much at all for much of the time, but we got bored with it. I always joke that I'll have a lie down when I die, and hope that by then I've done enough to earn the rest. But each to their own.
Having studied the campsite map I realised that there is no proper dump station on site. Instead you dump your grey water on your pitch down a drain also used by the fresh water tap. Luckily I had just enough waste pipe to reach the drain from the vehicle, otherwise I'd have had to use my old faithful folding buckets.
So that's it, a nothing day I'm afraid. Oh no I nearly forgot - I did a bodge repair on the ladder leading up to the bedroom which The Chef had managed to break again back at the beginning of the trip. I don't think it will hold, in fact looking at it now as it sits in position, I hope it doesn't, well not for three weeks as least, as I see I've put it on back to front.