Thowback Thursday: The Mystery Caller

A few years ago, we rented a villa near Nerja on Spain's Costa del Sol. The villa was about a kilometer up a country road which petered out to little more than a dirt track. It was a beautifully serene, peaceful and quiet location... most of the time!

Once we were treated to a local farmer moving his flock of goats from one field to another. It seemed so quaintly rural to see a herd of goats, with their bells jangling. Being a townie, I don't get to see that sort of thing often, so I loved hearing the bells from time to time throughout the day and night.

The owner of the villa had a several Yorkshire Terriers, among them a li'l old nearly deaf chap called Lugi (pronounced Loo-ghee). When he walked his dogs, inevitably Lugi would lag behind or wander off and we'd hear the owner calling "Loooooooooo-GHEE! Looooooooo-GHEE!". It was great to hear that those dogs were getting a good amount of exercise, even late into the evening.

There were a disturbing number of sirens, though. We assumed that they were down in Nerja town, but somehow they seemed closer. And Nerja really isn't that big a town, so for the emergency services to be called out so often it must have been quite a lot rougher than it seemed. When we visited the town during the day, and even in the evening for a meal, it really seemed quite sedate, but those sirens were going off at all times of the day and night.

We saw Miguel, the owner of the villa, most days and although he spoke no English, we worked out that his Catalan and Simona's Sicilian were quite similar and by speaking their own dialects, they could easily be understood by each other. He was a generous guy and helpful too. The villa had a huge outdoor barbecue which we were struggling to light one day; not only did he help us to light it but he gave us some beautiful courgettes, corn and aubergines from his smallholding to put on the barbecue.

One day Simona mentioned to him that there seemed to be a disproportionate number of sirens for such a small town. Miguel seemed surprised at first, but then his face was a picture of sudden realisation: there really weren't that many sirens, but Miguel had another pet, a Myna bird, who loved to imitate the sirens which would pass every once in a while on the main road above the property. And the goats bells from their occasional trips down the lane. And, indeed, Miguel himself calling for his poor deaf old dog.