We’re standing ankle-deep in water. That wouldn’t be anything unusual on a beach vacation. The problem is that this is happening in our accommodation. More and more water is pouring out of the bathroom drain. A flood. We have a problem.
We call the hostess, who calls the plumbers, who are supposed to come tonight. I go to lie down for a while before they arrive, and wake up in the morning. Apparently, I slept through the sound of the pipes being cleaned, which was about as loud as a jackhammer. Ben then tells me that he acted as a mediator between the hostess, who was having a shout-out-loud argument with the plumbers on the phone about the agreed-upon price. The people of Tenerife are very nice and friendly, but this is probably the other side of their open nature. Apparently, it can be quite like Italy here, too.
We breathed a sigh of relief, but we weren’t out of the woods yet. The next day, the flood returned. We called the hostess, and the plumbers returned as well. I fled to Puerto, where a small restaurant district provided me with refuge. Ben sent me away, saying that it was enough for only one of us to suffer.
The next day – flooding. We call our host. We’ve been here before. Our host asks us to wait for her plumber friend because she doesn’t want to call the ones who were here before. We wait. But her plumber doesn’t show up. Instead, our good old plumbers arrive completely unannounced. They received a complaint about their services, so they returned with a camera, which they inserted into the drain pipes to solve the mystery of our flooded accommodation.
The camera shows that the pipes are narrow, and toilet paper settles on their sides, breaking off from time to time and causing the problems we experienced. The plumbers clean the pipes again. Hallelujah! Finally dry.
The plumber arranged by the hostess does not arrive. He says the camera footage is enough; there is nothing more he can do. Since then, we have been using the toilet the Greek way, just to be on the safe side. All the paper goes in the trash. Even this can be one of the joys of staying with our favorite Airbnb.
To compensate Ben for putting up with all this and taking care of it, I take him to a tiny restaurant district I discovered while fleeing the flood. We want to settle down in the Tropical restaurant, which I was happy with on my previous visit, but it is closed, so we sit down opposite in the Italian restaurant Mamma Rosa. I order pasta stuffed with pears and gorgonzola. It is divine. Yum. At least something good came out of this whole episode.
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