The washing line is where now?

The idea of how the Spanish wash their clothes, particularly in the cities, was quite a new concept to me. Yes, most apartments had washing machines as part of the furnishings when looking for a rental, some even had driers. This was a handy feature so that I didn’t have the faff of going to the laundrette each week! However, the idea of having the washing line outside your kitchen window when you’re four floors up was quite a bizarre, scary even, prospect to me! Although, totally practical of course! How else are you going to dry your smalls? Even if it also means half the city can see them! Saying that I don’t think, or at least I don’t remember, taking a blind bit of notice of washing hanging out of windows or crisscrossing between apartment blocks.

I first discovered this somewhat strange, but practical idea the first weekend in my new apartment. My load had just finished its last spin followed by the lock on the door clicking. ‘Where can I put them to dry?’ I asked one of my housemates. To which, she looked at me rather bemused with one eyebrow raised, opened the kitchen window and pointed ‘Cuerda de tender, here!’ I peered out looking at the three green rows of washing lines. ‘But, what if my washing falls?’ I asked in quite a concerned voice. The majority of this slightly odd conversation took place with the aid of Google Translate on our phones of course! Thank goodness for modern technology ay!

To which she types back her response, ‘Then you go downstairs to the neighbour and they will give it back to you!’ With that, and still feeling nervous and uncertain, I reached for the small red tin that contained the pegs and began pegging out my washing praying that each garment didn’t slip from my fingers and using double the amount of pegs I would usually use in an attempt to make each piece of clothing extra secure! Being four floors up and having to lean out over, I’m amazed that I managed to keep a steady hand! But as the weeks went on I just got used to it. I was actually able to look down after a little while too!

However, I did have to replenish the little red tin as I managed to drop a peg or ten. Thankfully, my smalls didn’t slip from my fingers! But I soon discovered that some of the neighbours upstairs had butter fingers. A grey jacket, fine not so embarrassing to hand back. But a pair of green budgie smugglers! Fortunately for me, they came flying down during my housemate’s turn to hang her washing out. Given that I hadn’t learnt the Spanish words for budgie smugglers I was quite thankful! I mean, one of the phrases I didn’t anticipate having to learn in Spanish was, ‘Can I have my pants back please?!’