A few weeks ago I wrote about our area having been ‘discovered’ by one of the big estate agencies, catering to foreign buyers and rashly assumed that we would not probably be affected.
Famous last words!
Not that we are now besieged by frantic buyers waving cheque books….though the view from the balcony this morning would be worth any amount….
No, local enterprise has struck!
I thought that the small fincas downhill of us would be too small to interest a developer and clearly their owners thought so too as they had joined together in a scheme, which would, I was assured, interest us.
The oleaginous Don Luis outlined the project over the ‘phone.
The three properties are on the other side of the stream from ours and are reached by a road, which while legally classed as a ‘calle publica’ – public road – would more accurately be described as a series of potholes divided by rocks. Our finca lies on one side, the finca owned by The Neighbour on the other.
According to Don Luis, the council is preparing to upgrade the back road into town – a vertiginous three kilometres closely resembling a river bed – and he asked if the road to the three properties could be included, as it is classed as ‘calle publica’ and leads off the back road. No, it could not. The council did not recognise it as ‘calle publica’ thus could not spend public money on it.
The council is adept at not recognising inconveniences.
However, the council could lend its roadbuilding equipment and lorries to assist on the weekends if the people concerned would find the materials and labour themselves. How this squares with the council’s insurance goodness only knows, but what the insurance eye does not see the council’s heart does not grieve over.
Accordingly, Don Luis was sure that we would like to help out- as our finca bordered the road. He would send over the details.
The details arrived, with an estimate of the number of lorry loads of lastre required and the names of those promising to buy one or two of the loads….there was, of course, a shortfall, which he hoped we would like to make up.
Now I trust Don Luis no further than I can throw him and The Neighbour even less, so there must be a catch somewhere.
As always, if in doubt, consult Don Freddy.
There were certain factors to bear in mind, he said. Did we remember that, when we had just moved in, Don Luis had approached us to contribute to making up the road and installing electricity for a tourist project he had, namely putting up wooden cabins staffed by women who would provide massages.
Indeed we did remember and also his chagrin at our refusal. In any rural area, foreigners are regarded as stupid enough to come up for anything, so we had failed at the first hurdle.
Further, did we remember that The Neighbour has a source of lastre on his land, conveniently close to the road.
Given this, it is unlikely that he would be contributing to buy lastre from another source.
Looking at the estimate for the amount of lastre needed, Don Freddy reckoned that that would be more then three times what would be needed for the job, so his conclusion was that Don Luis and his associates planned to obtain the lastre from The Neighbour with the money we would be coughing up.
Win win all round – except for us.
I called Don Luis to explain that we would not be contributing and that his best bet was to ask his lawyer to oblige the council to recognise the road as ‘calle publica’.
He was disappointed at our lack of solidarity – so highly prized in Costa Rica – and indicated that the mayoress would be somewhat offended at having her offer of help rejected…it might even affect the works on the back road….
I communicated his disappointment to Don Freddy.
‘I wouldn’t worry about the mayoress. I’m her husband’s cousin.’