So since the tearful goodbye at the airport on Thursday morning, I've been in serious need of distraction from heartbreak, not to mention sleep.
Thursday at least involved lots of sleep, eventually. Though first I finally sorted out my Social Security number and went for a chat and a drink in a tiny weird Ecuadorian coffee shop with Debbie.
Yesterday turned into a packed day. First I had what appears to have been a pretty successful job interview. Then I met the lovely Richi for a chat and a drink and dog-walking. Then, and try not to be too jealous, I hit Ikea with Richi and Julie! OK, so I don't actually have a property to furnish or anything but since when did that stop anyone wandering round the Marketplace? In very restrained, and broke, fashion I managed to spend just under €15. I'm now the proud owner of a small lime green stool/table to rest my drinks on in the living room, a strange silicon ice cube tray, vanilla ice cream tea lights and....there must be something else. Other than a big Ikea paper bag!
Amusingly, I spent the trip feeling like a kid in a big shop with their parents. Julie's 6ft 2 and Richi's about 6ft 4. Consequently, I felt like a midget trailing round between them!
Excitement of the visit came when Richi dumped an entire cup of coffee over me and, more importantly, my mobile phone! Cue panic, swearing and much crossing of fingers. Seems to have survived the experience though it now smells funny!
Then I had a fleeting meetup with the lovely Lizzie from my recent Pueblo experience. She was on her way to Dublin. I was lending her a pair of shoes. Random.
Knackered, I then headed home via Hannah's for a "quick drink". That was at 8.3o. I got home at 2.30 am. Time warp. Again.
So thanks to my friends for doing their very best to distract me and keep me sane for the last 48 hours. Has it really only been 48 hours since the airport? I guess so. Feels like a lifetime.
Saturday, 12 September 2009
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Unexpected surprise
There is far too much I could say about the last 11 days but I can't begin to express it, nor would you all have the patience to read it, I dare say.
Suffice to say, my experience in Valdelavilla was unforgettable and I have taken away (and I hope, given) more than I could have expected. The immersion English programs, no matter which company they are with, are the most rewarding, intense and frankly, tiring, weeks in the world. Everyone should do one.
However, on this occasion, and more importantly, I met the most beautiful, inspiring and loving person of my entire life. What happens next is out of my hands but if anything I believe in cares to conspire in my favour, I will be eternally grateful.
As per the statue's head - "E 4 G" (private joke!)
Suffice to say, my experience in Valdelavilla was unforgettable and I have taken away (and I hope, given) more than I could have expected. The immersion English programs, no matter which company they are with, are the most rewarding, intense and frankly, tiring, weeks in the world. Everyone should do one.
However, on this occasion, and more importantly, I met the most beautiful, inspiring and loving person of my entire life. What happens next is out of my hands but if anything I believe in cares to conspire in my favour, I will be eternally grateful.
As per the statue's head - "E 4 G" (private joke!)
Thursday, 27 August 2009
Another trip coming up
Having spent most of my week back here faffing about with job applications, fighting with the dust from the roadworks, and socialising, I decided to reward myself with another week away!
I was asked at very short notice if I wanted to go and do another English immersion program (mentioning no company names!) so I'm off Friday morning, til next Friday. It'll be interesting!
No idea what the net/mobile access is like, so if I disappear til next Friday night, you'll know why.
Hasta luego.
I was asked at very short notice if I wanted to go and do another English immersion program (mentioning no company names!) so I'm off Friday morning, til next Friday. It'll be interesting!
No idea what the net/mobile access is like, so if I disappear til next Friday night, you'll know why.
Hasta luego.
Tuesday, 25 August 2009
No joke
Well, it appears I've finally found out what's wrong with my foot. The GP in the UK seems to have given me the absolute basics but it might have been nice if she'd told me the long-term news. Instead of which, I have to get my info from Google.
Using a phrase that the GP mentioned while I was there, I've done some research. And I can confidently say that I have PTS - Post Thrombotic Syndrome. Every single thing I found on the net today fits perfectly. Thanks to the multiple blood clots on my lungs that I had in 2003, which it seems came from an undiagnosed DVT in my calf, I am now joining the high percentage of post-DVT PTS sufferers. Ah, so many acronyms!
There are 2 annoying things : 1) it appears that my chances of getting it COULD have been lowered if I'd been given certain advice/treatment immediately after my 6 months on blood thinners following the pulmonary embolii and 2) there is now nothing that can be done for it and I can look forward to years of foot/leg pain, swelling, discolouration and if I'm really lucky in the end, open ulcers. Referred to on most websites as leading to chronic morbidity.
Oh goody. Bit pissed off, frankly.
Using a phrase that the GP mentioned while I was there, I've done some research. And I can confidently say that I have PTS - Post Thrombotic Syndrome. Every single thing I found on the net today fits perfectly. Thanks to the multiple blood clots on my lungs that I had in 2003, which it seems came from an undiagnosed DVT in my calf, I am now joining the high percentage of post-DVT PTS sufferers. Ah, so many acronyms!
There are 2 annoying things : 1) it appears that my chances of getting it COULD have been lowered if I'd been given certain advice/treatment immediately after my 6 months on blood thinners following the pulmonary embolii and 2) there is now nothing that can be done for it and I can look forward to years of foot/leg pain, swelling, discolouration and if I'm really lucky in the end, open ulcers. Referred to on most websites as leading to chronic morbidity.
Oh goody. Bit pissed off, frankly.
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
What I did in my summer holidays!
After the gloriousness of Vaughan Town, I packed myself off to the UK for 11 days. That may seem a strange place to go in the height of summer when you live in Spain, but....! Those of you in Spain will know that August in Madrid is 2 things: dead and HOT! Not just a bit hot, not just pretty warm, but hotter than hell. 40-45 degrees. So despite the fact that it's lovely that it's so quiet, it's kind of wasted cos you just don't want to go out! I realise that complaining about the weather may seem like rubbing salt in the wound of those of you living with grey, cloudy skies but really - try living day to day in over 40 degrees. Not as fun as you might think!!
Be warned - this is a bit long. Sorry.
So - anyway, August in the UK. I'll get the weather out the way first. Changeable. Predictably changeable - if that's not a contradiction in terms. I had rain, cloud, sun, wind, heat, you name it. Well, apart from snow. Though it wouldn't have surprised me if that had put in an appearance too.
After my previously detailed delayed arrival, I launched into my social whirl on the Sunday with an afternoon BBQ for the 60th birthday celebrations of an old family friend. It was a lovely, chilled afternoon in their garden, with a fantastic spread of "normal" and veggie BBQ stuff with very tasty accompaniments (including beer of course!). Followed by no less than 8 cakes! Most people were settled in around 4 big tables and there wasn't much mingling so I chatted most of the afternoon to the birthday celebrant, his son, my mum, dad and stepmum (always an interesting fly-on-the-wall experience to have the 3 of them sitting together!!! :-)
Be warned - this is a bit long. Sorry.
So - anyway, August in the UK. I'll get the weather out the way first. Changeable. Predictably changeable - if that's not a contradiction in terms. I had rain, cloud, sun, wind, heat, you name it. Well, apart from snow. Though it wouldn't have surprised me if that had put in an appearance too.
After my previously detailed delayed arrival, I launched into my social whirl on the Sunday with an afternoon BBQ for the 60th birthday celebrations of an old family friend. It was a lovely, chilled afternoon in their garden, with a fantastic spread of "normal" and veggie BBQ stuff with very tasty accompaniments (including beer of course!). Followed by no less than 8 cakes! Most people were settled in around 4 big tables and there wasn't much mingling so I chatted most of the afternoon to the birthday celebrant, his son, my mum, dad and stepmum (always an interesting fly-on-the-wall experience to have the 3 of them sitting together!!! :-)
Monday was spent ferrying the slightly damaged cat backwards and forwards to the vet for stitches in her inexplicable wound! One VERY grumpy moggy finally came back home at 6, complete with pretty purple soluble stitches, but a look on her face that said she'd be taking a long time to forgive me. Pushover that she is, some chicken and tuna seemed to change her mind quite fast and she's now healing well!
In the evening, I went out with Andy (in case anyone doesn't know - he is now ex-boyfriend, formerly known as boyfriend). For the duration of my trip to the flat, he was away house-sitting for a friend so any awkwardness there might have been trying to share with a recent ex was avoided. So we met for beer, pizza and chatting. And it was really nice. Really, properly, nice. Think we've found we get on much better as mates than as a couple. Yay.
Tuesday was a mishmash of sorting out my storage lockup in a hunt for things to sell (got to pay my rent in Madrid somehow), then 6 hours trying to fix my mum's laptop. Fairly successfully, if I may say so. Then she took me out for curry at the yummy Blue India in Haywards Heath.
Wednesday I spent the day blitzing the murder mystery that Cathy and I are desperately trying to get ready for the beginning of September, then Ange treated me to food and drinks at The Open House and we chatted. A lot. (And I made her cry. Accidentally!)
Thursday was my only day to myself so it was more murder mystery prep, a trip into town to try and flog some jewellery (total failure!), caught up with some random TV and listened to Spanish radio! Oh, and at the back of a drawer I had found an old SLR camera - with film, not digital! Worked out I probably last used it in about 2001 and it still had film in it, with 13 photos taken. Curiosity got the better of the me and despite the fact I thought the film would be knackered, I used up the rest of the pictures and took it off to Boots for developing! And in the evening, I learnt to play the ukulele that I got for my birthday!
Julia and Mike, more longstanding friends, came down for the weekend. Friday night we went out for a gorgeous Sri Lankan curry (if you're in Hove, go to Moonstone in Church Road), with Cathy, Ed, Andrea and Carol. Another good, fun, chatty evening accompanied by great food. I nearly missed the last bus home but was very glad that I didn't as I would have missed the spectacularly impressive transvestite bus driver.
Saturday I collected the photos from Boots, expecting little, but getting 36 perfectly good photos! The first 13 were indeed a blast from the past - a weekend away with mates in, we think, North Devon and some shots of a very bizarre girly pampering night for me and Cathy at my flat. Facepacks galore! I met Cathy, Julia and Mike again and we went for lunch at The George (vegetarian pub). We got over the disappointment of them not having any veggie sausages available and scoffed tasty halloumi baguettes, baked goats cheese and vegetable soup. Then we went to Devil's Dyke on the open top bus. Breezy. Bracing. OK, probably cold! By the time we got to the top, there were very threatening grey clouds, strong winds and we had to admit that our planned beach BBQ might not be the best idea ! We walked on the Dyke for a while then headed back on the bus. We stopped at a pub near my flat then Sarah joined us for takeaway pizza at mine. I wish they'd open a branch of Oregano's in Madrid!
Sunday was Ed's birthday so brunch on the seafront called. Summer had returned and it was lovely to sit out with our veggie sausage sandwiches and cheesy chips in the sun and the sea breeze. Cathy and Ed headed off for a birthday surprise night away, and Julia and Mike had to go home so I met up with Sarah and Sid for a late afternoon laze in the park, with ice cream.
On Monday, I spent the day with my dad. Lunch at Tosca's in Shoreham was tasty as ever (though disappointingly the very gorgeous Italian waiter wasn't working!). I played about with his computer too, installing his webcam and Skype so we can have strange disjointed conversations in future, and getting rid of IE8 which they'd downloaded but hated! In the evening, Ange came round for food, chat and a jam session. We've been singing and playing the guitar together since we were about 13 - to be fair, on that basis, you'd think we'd be better by now! But it's always amusing to us even if the neighbours don't agree. The video evidence, which some of you will have been unfortunate enough to see, says it all.
Tuesday was packing and saying goodbye to the cat day. A long walk on the seafront with Andy was relaxing and refreshing. Then for my final evening, I went to Misty's for cocktails with Cathy, Sid, Deb and Carol. A rather drunken evening, I have to admit. Doing 2 for 1 offers on cocktails til 9 is very nice of them, but does rather encourage binge ordering. We'd already had 2 each when we realised it was 8.50 and we'd better get to the bar. Ordered another 2 each plus somehow an extra communal one for the table! Still, I can't complain about an evening that starts with a Sicilian Kiss, goes through Purple Rain, Brandy Alexander, another Sicilian Kiss and ends up in an Orgasm. Slightly the worse for wear, I climbed into our "taxi" (thanks, Andy!) and Sid and I went to her place so that I could wake up far too early this morning, only 10 minutes from the airport.
So that's my last 11 days. What have you all been doing?!
Photos of my trip can be found here: http://picasaweb.google.es/emsr2d2/UKTripAug09?authkey=Gv1sRgCITC3YrjoqG01gE&feat=directlink
Monday, 17 August 2009
Am I home yet?
My time back in the UK was weird. Good but weird. As future blog will show!
I had some great fun meetups with my mates and family, and I definitely should have put the cat in my suitcase and smuggled her back to Madrid, but still somehow it was odd. The flat felt strange for the first few days though it didn't by the end.
But the couple of times I referred to going back to Madrid as "going home", I was met with slight surprise by the person I said it to, yet it felt totally normal to me. But is it home? Kind of. It's where I spend the majority of my time. Yet I don't have a "real" job, I'm renting a room in a shared flat, I still get lost (a lot!). I've got friends here, but I've known all of them less than 2 years, and in most cases, only since March. Having said that, they're fast becoming very good friends.
With the other Anglos (or should that just be non-Spaniards?), maybe it's the shared experience of living abroad that kind of throws us together. Someone said to me today though that it's a perfect opportunity to meet people that probably you wouldn't meet under any other circumstances. They're right - the majority of my mates in the UK are either school or work related. Common ground, of course. And without exception, they're great and I wouldn't be without them. But I guess it's another comfort zone thing - there's no impetus to find/need other people there!
So maybe I have 2 homes. Or none. Maybe I'm just learning to enjoy wherever I am.
I had some great fun meetups with my mates and family, and I definitely should have put the cat in my suitcase and smuggled her back to Madrid, but still somehow it was odd. The flat felt strange for the first few days though it didn't by the end.
But the couple of times I referred to going back to Madrid as "going home", I was met with slight surprise by the person I said it to, yet it felt totally normal to me. But is it home? Kind of. It's where I spend the majority of my time. Yet I don't have a "real" job, I'm renting a room in a shared flat, I still get lost (a lot!). I've got friends here, but I've known all of them less than 2 years, and in most cases, only since March. Having said that, they're fast becoming very good friends.
With the other Anglos (or should that just be non-Spaniards?), maybe it's the shared experience of living abroad that kind of throws us together. Someone said to me today though that it's a perfect opportunity to meet people that probably you wouldn't meet under any other circumstances. They're right - the majority of my mates in the UK are either school or work related. Common ground, of course. And without exception, they're great and I wouldn't be without them. But I guess it's another comfort zone thing - there's no impetus to find/need other people there!
So maybe I have 2 homes. Or none. Maybe I'm just learning to enjoy wherever I am.
Tuesday, 11 August 2009
Being home - but is it home?
I flew back to the UK on Saturday evening, for the first time since May. It's only been 3 months but they've been a very eventful 3 months.
I felt strangely nervous as I headed to the airport (partly cos I'd been very disorganised and thought I was going to be horribly late!) - I was wondering how I'd feel to be back.
Ryanair did their best to change my nerves to anger by being delayed by half an hour, then letting us board the plane but then sitting on the tarmac for nearly another hour. Finally we left and the wheels hit Gatwick at 10pm (after an exciting descent through some great turbulence - yes, I'm one of those odd people that actually enjoys that!)
As we'd landed at a gate somewhere in Scotland as far as I could tell, it was 20 minutes before I found myself heading down the ramp towards the arrivals hall. Having spent so much of my life working at airports, they're not my favourite places anyway, but Gatwick South, particularly, fills me with abject horror these days. It's not improved by the fact that they're removing asbestos from the ceiling so there is now a false ceiling up, barely a couple of feet above our heads. It's very claustrophobic! So I joined the throngs of Brits and queued for immigration, hoping not to see anyone I knew. No such luck - but at least it was someone I liked! I got to giggle at the new uniform but as I left the hall, I realised that I absolutely can't ever imagine going back to the job, no matter where.
The delights of the British public transport system were my next challenge. Having spent nearly £9 on a one-way ticket to Brighton, I then found there wasn't a train for nearly 40 minutes and that was going to be the slow train. A dull wander around the terminal ensued to kill some time - at least it involved an M&S giant vegetable samosa - then off I went back to the station. The next stage of my journey was then thwarted by one of those announcement that you know isn't going to go well when it starts "Ladies and gentlemen, we are sorry to announce......." This time it was that everything was delayed because a train had hit a shopping trolley which had been thrown onto the line from a bridge. So vile British youth were already affecting my trip!
I finally got on a train and spent most of the journey being appalled at how the big group of chavs sitting behind me were massacring the English language. It struck me just how different it sounded to the English I hear in Madrid, from both Anglos and Spaniards (yes Debbie and Louise, of course you both know you speak the most AMAAAAZING English :-) )
At midnight, 3 hours later than expected I fell out of a taxi to my front door. It felt very strange to be back - it's my flat, it's my stuff (well, most of it at least!) but somehow it's not mine. At least Messy (the cat) recognised me this time! Last time I was back she spent 2 days skulking around, looking at me sideways and refusing to sit on my lap. This time, she was all over me in minutes, sniffing, head butting and washing me! Come to think of it, there was a lot of sniffing and washing. Maybe I didn't smell too good! :-)
After my day of travel, I was too awake to go to bed so I stayed up til 4am just faffing on the net and waiting to see if it would feel like home.
It didn't.
I felt strangely nervous as I headed to the airport (partly cos I'd been very disorganised and thought I was going to be horribly late!) - I was wondering how I'd feel to be back.
Ryanair did their best to change my nerves to anger by being delayed by half an hour, then letting us board the plane but then sitting on the tarmac for nearly another hour. Finally we left and the wheels hit Gatwick at 10pm (after an exciting descent through some great turbulence - yes, I'm one of those odd people that actually enjoys that!)
As we'd landed at a gate somewhere in Scotland as far as I could tell, it was 20 minutes before I found myself heading down the ramp towards the arrivals hall. Having spent so much of my life working at airports, they're not my favourite places anyway, but Gatwick South, particularly, fills me with abject horror these days. It's not improved by the fact that they're removing asbestos from the ceiling so there is now a false ceiling up, barely a couple of feet above our heads. It's very claustrophobic! So I joined the throngs of Brits and queued for immigration, hoping not to see anyone I knew. No such luck - but at least it was someone I liked! I got to giggle at the new uniform but as I left the hall, I realised that I absolutely can't ever imagine going back to the job, no matter where.
The delights of the British public transport system were my next challenge. Having spent nearly £9 on a one-way ticket to Brighton, I then found there wasn't a train for nearly 40 minutes and that was going to be the slow train. A dull wander around the terminal ensued to kill some time - at least it involved an M&S giant vegetable samosa - then off I went back to the station. The next stage of my journey was then thwarted by one of those announcement that you know isn't going to go well when it starts "Ladies and gentlemen, we are sorry to announce......." This time it was that everything was delayed because a train had hit a shopping trolley which had been thrown onto the line from a bridge. So vile British youth were already affecting my trip!
I finally got on a train and spent most of the journey being appalled at how the big group of chavs sitting behind me were massacring the English language. It struck me just how different it sounded to the English I hear in Madrid, from both Anglos and Spaniards (yes Debbie and Louise, of course you both know you speak the most AMAAAAZING English :-) )
At midnight, 3 hours later than expected I fell out of a taxi to my front door. It felt very strange to be back - it's my flat, it's my stuff (well, most of it at least!) but somehow it's not mine. At least Messy (the cat) recognised me this time! Last time I was back she spent 2 days skulking around, looking at me sideways and refusing to sit on my lap. This time, she was all over me in minutes, sniffing, head butting and washing me! Come to think of it, there was a lot of sniffing and washing. Maybe I didn't smell too good! :-)
After my day of travel, I was too awake to go to bed so I stayed up til 4am just faffing on the net and waiting to see if it would feel like home.
It didn't.
Sunday, 9 August 2009
What a week!
I could go on for hours and bore you rigid with all the details, but won't. In short (well, relatively short):
My sixth Vaughan Town (my third at beautiful Gredos) turned out to be as close to perfect as I can imagine. With the exception of the crappy veggie food (really, overcooked spaghetti with watered down tomato ketchup 3 times in one week?), which I was expecting anyway, everything else was fantastic.
The Anglos bonded really fast, in some cases within minutes of meeting for the first time at the tapas night (eh, Kim?!).
The Spaniards were an astonishingly lovely group - a pretty good starting level of English which probably helped but really just the best people. As usual, there was a good mix of ages, genders (well, OK, there are only 2 but....!), occupations, interests and talents.
Over the course of the week, I had silly, deep, ridiculous, interesting, moving, honest, educational and indescribable (or at least unrepeatable) conversations.
The group activities and entertainment hours were filled with laughs, audience participation and occasional bafflement. I enjoyed being in my own (tweaked!) murder mystery but the less said about my part in the dead parrot sketch, the better!
Queimada and karaoke night was fun, though as usual by the time karaoke really got going and people were getting enthusiastic, it was nearly time for it to be over! Too much time spent fighting over the 2 songbooks, trying to read them in the dark, deciding who to sing with and supping the requisite amount of Dutch courage!!
Party night rocked. Probably the first time I've known absolutely everyone stay til the end and of course, still not want to stop! The bleary eyes and sheepish looks the next morning indicated that not everyone did stop!
As ever, Friday rolled around far too fast and before we knew it, we were packing up, doing group photos and heading off for the certificate ceremony. Several of us were swallowing back tears before it even started, but by the end (despite the VERY inappropriate interruption of Dade's moving sentiment), open sobbing was the order of the day.
The palpable sense of achievement, accomplishment and friendship in the room is something I've never experienced anywhere else. That, along with the ludicrous amount of fun to be had, is what keeps me coming back. Time to look at dates for my next one, I reckon!
Here are my photos, though they're few and far between as I was generally having far too much fun to think about my camera: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/emsr2d2/GredosAug09?authkey=Gv1sRgCOv-rdqH1d-wHQ&feat=directlink
My sixth Vaughan Town (my third at beautiful Gredos) turned out to be as close to perfect as I can imagine. With the exception of the crappy veggie food (really, overcooked spaghetti with watered down tomato ketchup 3 times in one week?), which I was expecting anyway, everything else was fantastic.
The Anglos bonded really fast, in some cases within minutes of meeting for the first time at the tapas night (eh, Kim?!).
The Spaniards were an astonishingly lovely group - a pretty good starting level of English which probably helped but really just the best people. As usual, there was a good mix of ages, genders (well, OK, there are only 2 but....!), occupations, interests and talents.
Over the course of the week, I had silly, deep, ridiculous, interesting, moving, honest, educational and indescribable (or at least unrepeatable) conversations.
The group activities and entertainment hours were filled with laughs, audience participation and occasional bafflement. I enjoyed being in my own (tweaked!) murder mystery but the less said about my part in the dead parrot sketch, the better!
Queimada and karaoke night was fun, though as usual by the time karaoke really got going and people were getting enthusiastic, it was nearly time for it to be over! Too much time spent fighting over the 2 songbooks, trying to read them in the dark, deciding who to sing with and supping the requisite amount of Dutch courage!!
Party night rocked. Probably the first time I've known absolutely everyone stay til the end and of course, still not want to stop! The bleary eyes and sheepish looks the next morning indicated that not everyone did stop!
As ever, Friday rolled around far too fast and before we knew it, we were packing up, doing group photos and heading off for the certificate ceremony. Several of us were swallowing back tears before it even started, but by the end (despite the VERY inappropriate interruption of Dade's moving sentiment), open sobbing was the order of the day.
The palpable sense of achievement, accomplishment and friendship in the room is something I've never experienced anywhere else. That, along with the ludicrous amount of fun to be had, is what keeps me coming back. Time to look at dates for my next one, I reckon!
Here are my photos, though they're few and far between as I was generally having far too much fun to think about my camera: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/emsr2d2/GredosAug09?authkey=Gv1sRgCOv-rdqH1d-wHQ&feat=directlink
Tuesday, 28 July 2009
Unexpected intercambio
Tonight's lesson didn't start well. I turned up at Jaime's garage, as every other Tuesday evening, at 8.30. The look on his face followed by his exclamation of "Mierda" should have been a clue!
Oh yes, he'd forgotten all about our lesson and was just closing up the garage and heading off for drinks with a mate.
Magnanimously (I thought, having walked all the way there in 32 degrees with a heavy bag!) I said never mind, why don't we do it tomorrow evening instead?! Oh no, he said, I can't, I'm going out for dinner with 6 friends. We'd already established that we were cancelling Thursday's lesson, so it was looking like it was all over til September.
Until his mate, who was loitering around, asked why I didn't go with them for drinks! Jaime said yes as long as we had the class at the bar. Though he made me promise to let him speak quietly as he said he'd be embarrassed speaking English in public.
What the hell!
I can't pretend it was a roaring success. We probably did about half an hour of the class, regularly interrupted by the mate, who spoke no English but was very funny. In the end, Jaime gave up and said no more, please!
I let him off (the customer is always right), and we got more beer and more tapas.
Of course, once the class was over it was a free-for-all language-wise. It was pointless for me to keep plugging away in English so I took the opportunity for my first proper Spanish conversation! Went quite well, if you ask me! I understood pretty much everything they said and they were very patient while I looked odd words up in the dictionary. They politely ignored the fact that I can still only do the present tense!
What had started as a bit of a disaster turned into a very entertaining evening, all in all, and a very enjoyable learning curve!
Oh yes, he'd forgotten all about our lesson and was just closing up the garage and heading off for drinks with a mate.
Magnanimously (I thought, having walked all the way there in 32 degrees with a heavy bag!) I said never mind, why don't we do it tomorrow evening instead?! Oh no, he said, I can't, I'm going out for dinner with 6 friends. We'd already established that we were cancelling Thursday's lesson, so it was looking like it was all over til September.
Until his mate, who was loitering around, asked why I didn't go with them for drinks! Jaime said yes as long as we had the class at the bar. Though he made me promise to let him speak quietly as he said he'd be embarrassed speaking English in public.
What the hell!
I can't pretend it was a roaring success. We probably did about half an hour of the class, regularly interrupted by the mate, who spoke no English but was very funny. In the end, Jaime gave up and said no more, please!
I let him off (the customer is always right), and we got more beer and more tapas.
Of course, once the class was over it was a free-for-all language-wise. It was pointless for me to keep plugging away in English so I took the opportunity for my first proper Spanish conversation! Went quite well, if you ask me! I understood pretty much everything they said and they were very patient while I looked odd words up in the dictionary. They politely ignored the fact that I can still only do the present tense!
What had started as a bit of a disaster turned into a very entertaining evening, all in all, and a very enjoyable learning curve!
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