I am convinced I live there. Reasons why?
1. We live directly above the Post Office. This means that exactly at 8:00am (7:55, actually), the big yellow truck roars up right under our bedroom window and loads up. Directly under us sits the warehouse, so for about 15 minutes each morning (and each afternoon at 2:30pm) there is all sorts of screeching, dragging, stacking, and general noisiness happening. However, it is important to note that the truck used to roar up at 5:55am until we learned that it was illegal to make such noise before 8am and we filed a complaint with the town hall. Amazingly, no one had done this before us as it took just one complaint for the truck to change its hours.
2. The obnoxious granddaughter. Our building is filled with old people. Directly above us live a set of grandparents (who ironically have complained about our dryer running too often). They happen to be grandparents to a third-grade girl who finds it entirely appropriate to scream 'Iaia (pronounced Ya-Ya!)' repeatedly from the street instead of ringing her buzzer from downstairs. Her parents apparently approve of this behavior, as they are often found standing next to their daughter as she bellows for her grandmother from the sidewalk. When this lovely child does enter the building, she can be heard shouting and yelling up and down the stairs, and through our ceiling as she gallops around her grandparents' apartment. Three years has done little to help her calm down, and she is just as noisy today as she was the day we moved in here.
3. The yappy dog across the street. There is a little white puff ball that inhabits the apartment directly across from us. He likes to show his dominance from two floors up by barking at every dog that happens to cross the street below him. The other dogs rarely respond in kind, as mentioned before, this dog is no more threatening to them than a marshmallow.
4. Carpentry shop below and to the right. Sawing. Cutting. Noisy truck to transport things.
5. Scrap metal shop across the street. Big noisy truck unloading noisy things.
6. Bar down and to the left. It is a bar. Enough said.
7. Moto and Motorcycle repair shop across the street. Lots of motos roaring up and down our street all day (and all night) long. I am not sure why so many motos feel the need to have engines that roar louder than jet planes. I imagine their drivers will have serious hearing problems someday. The motos seem to have a knack to tear down the street exactly when I have just gotten Keane or Mati to sleep. It's awesome. And illegal, not that anything will be done about it. After all, this is Spain. Which brings me to my final point....
8. This is Spain. The general population is LOUD. And seem to have a complete lack of respect for those around them that might be bothered by their prattling on at three in the morning on the street. Teenagers, children, old people...they're all the same. Noisy folk.
Maybe I am just grumpy because I have a headache.
Maybe I have a headache because it is too noisy on this street.
Chicken or egg, it is always so much more pleasant here when I can keep the windows shut. Then I can hide in my apartment and pretend I am back in Germany where people are quiet and respectful.
Of course, there I would be getting complaints left and right about being too loud myself with my noisy dryer and whiny kids...
1. We live directly above the Post Office. This means that exactly at 8:00am (7:55, actually), the big yellow truck roars up right under our bedroom window and loads up. Directly under us sits the warehouse, so for about 15 minutes each morning (and each afternoon at 2:30pm) there is all sorts of screeching, dragging, stacking, and general noisiness happening. However, it is important to note that the truck used to roar up at 5:55am until we learned that it was illegal to make such noise before 8am and we filed a complaint with the town hall. Amazingly, no one had done this before us as it took just one complaint for the truck to change its hours.
2. The obnoxious granddaughter. Our building is filled with old people. Directly above us live a set of grandparents (who ironically have complained about our dryer running too often). They happen to be grandparents to a third-grade girl who finds it entirely appropriate to scream 'Iaia (pronounced Ya-Ya!)' repeatedly from the street instead of ringing her buzzer from downstairs. Her parents apparently approve of this behavior, as they are often found standing next to their daughter as she bellows for her grandmother from the sidewalk. When this lovely child does enter the building, she can be heard shouting and yelling up and down the stairs, and through our ceiling as she gallops around her grandparents' apartment. Three years has done little to help her calm down, and she is just as noisy today as she was the day we moved in here.
3. The yappy dog across the street. There is a little white puff ball that inhabits the apartment directly across from us. He likes to show his dominance from two floors up by barking at every dog that happens to cross the street below him. The other dogs rarely respond in kind, as mentioned before, this dog is no more threatening to them than a marshmallow.
4. Carpentry shop below and to the right. Sawing. Cutting. Noisy truck to transport things.
5. Scrap metal shop across the street. Big noisy truck unloading noisy things.
6. Bar down and to the left. It is a bar. Enough said.
7. Moto and Motorcycle repair shop across the street. Lots of motos roaring up and down our street all day (and all night) long. I am not sure why so many motos feel the need to have engines that roar louder than jet planes. I imagine their drivers will have serious hearing problems someday. The motos seem to have a knack to tear down the street exactly when I have just gotten Keane or Mati to sleep. It's awesome. And illegal, not that anything will be done about it. After all, this is Spain. Which brings me to my final point....
8. This is Spain. The general population is LOUD. And seem to have a complete lack of respect for those around them that might be bothered by their prattling on at three in the morning on the street. Teenagers, children, old people...they're all the same. Noisy folk.
Maybe I am just grumpy because I have a headache.
Maybe I have a headache because it is too noisy on this street.
Chicken or egg, it is always so much more pleasant here when I can keep the windows shut. Then I can hide in my apartment and pretend I am back in Germany where people are quiet and respectful.
Of course, there I would be getting complaints left and right about being too loud myself with my noisy dryer and whiny kids...
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