Sh** Happens…

In true ‘no me lo puedo creer’ style, we have had another ‘little emergency’ which could have turned into a catastrophe if not for the help of a spanish plumber!

A few days ago I noticed strange ‘gurgling sounds’ emerging as the shower drained. Having heard these sounds before, when the plumbing in our RV backed up, I feared the worse. But my husband came to the rescue with the spanish version of ‘Mr Muscle’, liberally poured down the drain, and all seemed fine … for a day anyway.

The next day, however, the ‘gurgling’ was louder. The sinks were draining very slowly, but at least the toilet was flushing ok … that is until we realised that the drained water from the loo was backing up into the bath! We needed plumbing help, and quick!

Now, when this house was renovated, plans were supposed to have been drawn up. They were certainly approved on inspection, so we assumed anyway that they were in existence. As we had no idea where our trap (or rodding point for the drains) was, we needed those plans, so that we could tell a plumber where to put his rods, so to speak! There had been a trap before the house was renovated, but it appears that this has been covered up… and no other point installed. A bit of a problem when it comes to getting at the drains!

Since the work has never been officially completed on our house, we do not have the plans; they should still be in the hands of our project manager. Therefore, despite already guessing what kind of response we would get, my husband sent him a text.

As suspected, his response was not helpful. Just a suggestion that we would have to take out the toilet and call a plumber … oh yes, and he likes this blog! Well, thank you Mr Project Manager, I’m glad you like my little blog. It’s a shame, this being a blog about the ‘trials and tribulations’ of moving to Spain, that so many of the entries are related to you in some way. I would much rather write about something else!

Anyway, my husband’s second thought was to contact the guys who worked on the house. Some of them had remained in touch, and they should know the plumbing system. After all, they had installed it. But no reply, despite phone calls and texts requesting them to call us back urgently. Now, they could be away and unable to respond … makes me wonder though ….

My husband then called an English plumber who had worked on our house before (to help get it finished when the original builders left…), but he was unavailable until Monday. With overflowing sinks and a loo that worked … but not in a good way, we needed help sooner than that.

As luck would have it, the local ferreteria gave us a card for a plumber who lives in a nearby village. He was only too willing to come out right then. But by this time it was getting late, and we guessed that there would be little he could do that evening.

A few minutes later the guy arrived, complete with all kinds of dastardly things to put down the pipes to attack the blockage (he had already been told that there was no easy access point for rods). Added to the fact that we needed boiling water to flush the stuff away, our kitchen took on the image of ‘hell’s kitchen’, with bubbling cauldrons and the pungent aroma of sulpher. But nothing worked… except that we now had an acrid bubbling mixture arising out of the plughole in the bath. The toilet had to come out! But not that night.

So we got by, aided by frequent visits to the neighbours to use their loo and washing facilities… and the washing up bowl in the kitchen was filled with used plates and greasy water and no where to drain it. So any more cooking was out of the question too. We just hoped the guy could work his magic in the morning!

True to his promise, the plumber turned up bright and early, with his teenage daughter in tow (she is learning the business – a lucrative one too it seems …). Taking out the loo was a bit of a problem for him . The builders had not bolted the loo to the floor – they had stuck it hard with sealant (I guess they hadn’t realised what the bolt holes were for…. ). But he struggled gainly and sweated profusely and at last the loo came out, and, surprise, surprise, he was so good he managed to get the loo out without breaking it or ruining any of the tiles it was stuck to. I’m not sure many others would have managed that …

With lots of use of rods and water and goodness knows what else plumbers use (I kept out of the way at that point) and a constant supply of Cokes for his thirst, the guy fixed the problem. We can now shower again and flush the loo without warily looking at the bath…. It’s surprising how much these ‘little things’ matter.

He wasn’t cheap, and he may have overcharged us. Although, from the hard work he put in and the speed he carried it out, including clearing up after his work so well that the bathroom was almost spotless, we considered it a fair deal.

The moral of this story, well, see the title… and use a Spanish workman to put things right when it does!