OK, so I should be lesson planning but I can't get Word to open (that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it) so it's time to catch up on blogging.
Last weekend saw Louise, one of my Australian friends here, moving out of her little house. The very house that I lived in for a month when I first arrived. She's going back to Australia in a month and for the next 4 weeks, will be variously in Madrid, Santander and Mallorca. So it was time to quit the house.
For days, if not weeks, beforehand, she'd been talking about packing, and the move, and storing stuff elsewhere. I'd already said that she could leave a couple of cases at my place until she leaves.
The day of the move came around and when I texted her at 12 to see how it was going, what came back was "I'm up to my neck in it here. I need a calming influence. Please come." Now, I'm pretty sure I've never been called a calming influence before, but there's a first time for everything so off I trotted, having called in reinforcements in the shape of Debbie.
When I arrived, I could see what she meant! The landlady was coming for the keys at 6pm and the place looked like a bomb had hit it. She'd made a good start but really, 2 years' worth of accumulated stuff is an awful lot when you have it all piled in a tiny room. Wrongly, I assumed upstairs was finished. Not a bit of it. Not least, one of the wardrobes was locked and stuck that way. Various attempts were made by both of us to open it to rescue her work suits but it resisted any and all attempts, nice or otherwise. Still, once I was there, we cracked on with the rest and slowly but surely, it all came together. Or at least, it all came downstairs. Debbie arrived soon after and lo and behold, a bit of Reiki and positive thinking (not to mention a screwdriver and some now missing wood from the lock) resulted in the wardrobe popping open and releasing its contents!
Downstairs, the main focus of attention was the huge wooden cupboard/press/thing! The drawer at the top contained, well, a bit of anything and everything, as drawers like that are wont to do. The main part of the cupboard contained 2 years' worth of teaching materials! So much paper! I believe there may have been an entire Brazilian rainforest in there. Not any more. Now it's mostly in the recycling bin nearby. Debbie and I even found it quite therapeutic taking regular trips to the recycling places, and the bins, so I imagine it was either more so, or very painful, for Louise!!!
Finally, everything was packed up. There were 4 cases, innumerable bags and boxes plus of course the odds and sods that we kept stumbling over that she had forgotten about!
It took a total of 3 taxi journeys (2 to my place and 1 to Debbie's) to shift it all. The corner of my bedroom has now disappeared, and Debbie's flatmates are marvelling at the arrival of actual kitchen equipment (like forks, for instance!), and a working TV and DVD player. In true Louise style, she was determined to pass on/recycle as much of it as possible, so Debbie and I have her to thank for our large bags full of goodies! Debbie was unfeasibly excited by a pot of plastic animals - I'm hoping due to her imminent teaching of children!
It was a fun, but exhausting day, and has served to convince me that I must not accumulate stuff while I'm here if I can possibly help it! I don't want to be faced with that if/when I leave.
Louise, for a nomad, you're a terrible hoarder, love! And we will be very sad to see you go!
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
Sunday, 20 September 2009
Strum strum strum
Finally, after 6 months and 5 days here, I have a guitar! I didn't bring mine with me due to luggage constraints and the fact that I don't have 12 hands!
For the first few months I didn't miss it so much. I had plenty of other things to do, plus I went back to the UK twice and could play mine while I was there.
But my week at Pueblo Inglés was a reminder. Unlike Vaughan Town, there is a guitar at each venue with PI so I got to play. Not as much as I wish I had the nerve to, and probably should have. But in a couple of group activities, quietly in the bar area a couple of times, and then outside on the last morning. And I realised how much I missed it. Not so much the performing, because unlike singing, I haven't really played the guitar in public all that much. Just simply having it there, in reach, to play around with when I'm bored or can't sleep or feeling a bit down.
I have to admit to there being another incentive. A certain rather lovely guy who I met on the program (yes, the one mentioned in a previous blog) picked up the guitar when I put it down on the last day, said he really wanted to learn so I taught him a couple of chords. He's clearly musical so picked it up easily. On his return home, an infuriating 6000 miles away, he bought himself a (very nice) guitar! Which just made me want one more.
So I trawled through strange Spanish eBay, and a couple of second hand websites til I found some. I struck lucky with my 3rd attempt. A 2-year old, good condition, Spanish classical, nylon strung guitar could be mine for the princely sum of €40. All I had to do was meet a complete stranger at an out of the way Metro station. "Just look for the guy carrying the guitar", he said. Well, to be fair, that's exactly what I did.
I gave the guitar a test run, sitting on a bench in the street while I chatted to Mark, the seller, a Brit who's been living in Spain for 2 years variously as an English teacher, a guitarist and a music teacher. He plays amazing flamenco guitar and gave me a little demo, which made my embarrassing little test play even more mortifying.
We ended up chatting for over an hour about all sorts of stuff. That's what I like about this country. In the UK, if I'd bought a guitar of a guy on the internet, I'd have gone to his house, checked it was in one piece, handed over the money and that would have been that. People here have the time and the inclination to chat, are interested in your story and happy to tell their own. He has since sent me info about good guitar shops in Madrid, how not to get ripped off should I decide to take flamenco guitar lessons, and I've sent him info about the whale and dolphin watching company I holidayed with once, and about a garlic restaurant in San Francisco. Weird and wonderful.
So anyway, I'm the proud new owner of a lovely guitar! Now I should really practice more......
For the first few months I didn't miss it so much. I had plenty of other things to do, plus I went back to the UK twice and could play mine while I was there.
But my week at Pueblo Inglés was a reminder. Unlike Vaughan Town, there is a guitar at each venue with PI so I got to play. Not as much as I wish I had the nerve to, and probably should have. But in a couple of group activities, quietly in the bar area a couple of times, and then outside on the last morning. And I realised how much I missed it. Not so much the performing, because unlike singing, I haven't really played the guitar in public all that much. Just simply having it there, in reach, to play around with when I'm bored or can't sleep or feeling a bit down.
I have to admit to there being another incentive. A certain rather lovely guy who I met on the program (yes, the one mentioned in a previous blog) picked up the guitar when I put it down on the last day, said he really wanted to learn so I taught him a couple of chords. He's clearly musical so picked it up easily. On his return home, an infuriating 6000 miles away, he bought himself a (very nice) guitar! Which just made me want one more.
So I trawled through strange Spanish eBay, and a couple of second hand websites til I found some. I struck lucky with my 3rd attempt. A 2-year old, good condition, Spanish classical, nylon strung guitar could be mine for the princely sum of €40. All I had to do was meet a complete stranger at an out of the way Metro station. "Just look for the guy carrying the guitar", he said. Well, to be fair, that's exactly what I did.
I gave the guitar a test run, sitting on a bench in the street while I chatted to Mark, the seller, a Brit who's been living in Spain for 2 years variously as an English teacher, a guitarist and a music teacher. He plays amazing flamenco guitar and gave me a little demo, which made my embarrassing little test play even more mortifying.
We ended up chatting for over an hour about all sorts of stuff. That's what I like about this country. In the UK, if I'd bought a guitar of a guy on the internet, I'd have gone to his house, checked it was in one piece, handed over the money and that would have been that. People here have the time and the inclination to chat, are interested in your story and happy to tell their own. He has since sent me info about good guitar shops in Madrid, how not to get ripped off should I decide to take flamenco guitar lessons, and I've sent him info about the whale and dolphin watching company I holidayed with once, and about a garlic restaurant in San Francisco. Weird and wonderful.
So anyway, I'm the proud new owner of a lovely guitar! Now I should really practice more......
Moroccan munchies
Thursday was Louise's birthday, so a group of us went to Arabia, a very lovely restaurant near Chueca.
I can certainly recommend the ambience of the place - it looked and felt like you'd want it to. Lots of cushions, low seating, carved wood, nice music.
Yet somehow it appears we pissed off the main waitress simply by arriving. Maybe it was the fact there were 7 of us for a booking of 10, but these things happen. Can't be helped.
Because we were a group, we had to have the set menu which basically means not ordering off the menu, you get what you're given. It's a starter, a main and a dessert per person, a glass of cava and a bottle of wine between every 3 people.
A couple of us had ordered a beer at the beginning but confusingly, this resulted in said stroppy waitress immediately starting to collect up all 7 wine glasses and try to take them away. We pointed out that wine came with our set menu and could we please have our glasses back. Cue them being banged back down on the table at each place setting!
7 very delicious all vegetarian starters arrived. No complaints. Divine. All of them.
Then 7 main courses. I'm assured they were lovely, but unfortunately only one was veggie so my main course consisted of 2 spoonfuls of couscous! Partly my fault for not checking, I admit.
7 little baklava style cakes, the little glass of cava and the most sugary mint tea in the world followed.
Really, the only downer was the behaviour of the one waitress who continuously glared at us, banged things on the table, snatched things away and was generally entirely undeserving of a tip. Which is why she didn't get one!
All in all, it was a great evening though, as the company was marvellous. I learnt all kinds of things about wine, courtesy of Rafa.
I'll be going back there again, but to order from the menu next time. And hopefully when the waitress is in a better mood! Or on a day off.
I can certainly recommend the ambience of the place - it looked and felt like you'd want it to. Lots of cushions, low seating, carved wood, nice music.
Yet somehow it appears we pissed off the main waitress simply by arriving. Maybe it was the fact there were 7 of us for a booking of 10, but these things happen. Can't be helped.
Because we were a group, we had to have the set menu which basically means not ordering off the menu, you get what you're given. It's a starter, a main and a dessert per person, a glass of cava and a bottle of wine between every 3 people.
A couple of us had ordered a beer at the beginning but confusingly, this resulted in said stroppy waitress immediately starting to collect up all 7 wine glasses and try to take them away. We pointed out that wine came with our set menu and could we please have our glasses back. Cue them being banged back down on the table at each place setting!
7 very delicious all vegetarian starters arrived. No complaints. Divine. All of them.
Then 7 main courses. I'm assured they were lovely, but unfortunately only one was veggie so my main course consisted of 2 spoonfuls of couscous! Partly my fault for not checking, I admit.
7 little baklava style cakes, the little glass of cava and the most sugary mint tea in the world followed.
Really, the only downer was the behaviour of the one waitress who continuously glared at us, banged things on the table, snatched things away and was generally entirely undeserving of a tip. Which is why she didn't get one!
All in all, it was a great evening though, as the company was marvellous. I learnt all kinds of things about wine, courtesy of Rafa.
I'll be going back there again, but to order from the menu next time. And hopefully when the waitress is in a better mood! Or on a day off.
Friday, 18 September 2009
And the nominations are.....
A couple of days ago, the lovely Dade (http://www.dades-life.blogspot.com/) nominated me for the above. Having been somewhat lax, and in my opinion, not terrible creative with mine, that was a very sweet surprise for which I thank him.
I have no idea, and nor did he, where the idea came from but that doesn't diminish it one bit.
In return, a recipient is asked to share with their readers "7 things that I love", not including people, and then nominate 4 brand new worthy recipients, simple.
So, 7 things I love
1) Playing the guitar. I've been doing it since I was 10, on and off, but in recent years probably more off than on. I've been getting itchy fingers though, in the last few months and having had a couple of opportunities to play, finally bought myself a second hand one here in Madrid!
2) Madrid - what can I say? For someone who doesn't like cities, very much, it's been a revelation. I love the people, the different barrios, the buildings, the sheer chaos of the streets and the tranquility of the Retiro.
3) Marmite. Say no more.
4) Music - after a dry few years in the 90s when there was nothing I liked and I stuck to listening to my 80s classics, I'm pleased to be back interested in music again. My mp3 player comes everywhere with me these days and there is rarely a silent moment.
5) Vaughan Town/Pueblo Inglés - yes, I did actually put them together. I'm aware this is sacrilege, but no matter who runs them, any immersion program in beautiful parts of Spain, where Spaniards can get the equivalent of 6 months' English in a week, is a good thing. They both lead to lasting friendships and experiences that will never be forgotten.
6) Water - OK, not the most scintillating choice. But still. It's what keeps us alive. I am never without a bottle of water, as certain people regularly point out, and possibly make fun of. I don't care. It's good stuff. It lets me eat and drink all the other rubbish, enjoy myself yet not always suffer the after effects!
7) Greece - After Madrid, it's my favourite place. OK, probably higher than Madrid! If I live anywhere else, it will probably be Greece, Crete hopefully. I love everything about it - the food, the lifestyle, the scenery, the beer (Mythos!), the people, the perfect little blue and white houses and churches you stumble across everywhere, the skinny cats, the beaches........ you get the picture.
And so, my 4 nominations for blogs are:
1) More Or Less : http://debralondon-moreorless.blogspot.com/ This is my friend Debbie's blog about her life in Madrid these days.
2) Crystal Jigsaw : http://crystaljigsaw.blogspot.com/ I've been following this for a while. The writer has a great turn of phrase and some of the most moving entries I've seen.
3) A View of Madrid : http://aviewofmadrid.blogspot.com/ - this is Richard's informative, amusing and well-written take on, well, Madrid. Obviously.
4) Rockin' On : http://rockinontheblog.blogspot.com/ - I stumbled across this a while ago, while searching the net about halloumi cheese. Don't ask. It's a random blog, but I just like it!
So there you go, my 7 and my 4. Thanks again Dade, for the nod!
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
Employment!
I guess the bumming around, living off my ever-dwindling savings and generally lazing had to come to an end sometime. And the start of the academic year in Madrid seems like an obvious time for it to happen.
It's been good to be here, experiencing the city and life in a foreign country properly for the first time, but reality sets in eventually, especially when I look at my bank balance. Plus, I'm really not good at doing nothing. No, really, I'm not. Stop laughing.
So work it is. Two interviews in the last week and it appears they were both succesful. For one of them, I start teaching at 8am next Monday morning (ouch!) - in a government dept (not sure which one). The company has a 3 year contract to teach English on site to various government offices all over Madrid, so I'm going to be teaching civil servants. Ironic, really. At least we'll have something in common. My first 2 students are "directors" - not quite clear what that means here other than presumably they're reasonably high up and slightly older. The woman who interviewed me said she thought that would be a good reason to send me because I'm "slightly more mature". Ouch. Backhanded compliments all round.
I'm excited and terrified at the same time. I guess this is the crunch. I find out if I'm actually a good teacher. At least I start from the position of thinking I probably am! Having been on training teams etc for a lot of years, and generally feeling pretty pleased with myself when I have trained/taught someone something, I feel I've got a good base. But can I teach English? We'll see. All I can do is my best, which I will.
The kicker is going to be getting up in the mornings, for the first time in 6 months. It's not like I've been in bed til 12 every day (OK, some days) but I also haven't actually had to set an alarm really for ages. From now on, Monday to Thursday, I'm going to have to be up around 6.45. I just checked online and sunrise here is around 8. Still, at least in the dark I might not look as trashed as I'll actually be! So there will be some early nights coming up, which will be very unusual. My body clock seems to have very happily swung onto Spanish time, and bed at 3 or 4 in the morning is pretty normal. Still, again, years of shiftwork mean I'm fairly flexible and reckon I'll deal with it OK.
The other company hope to have some classes to offer me in October sometime.
2 of my 3 private students want me back too, which is good and they've moved their lessons so that I teach both of them 2 evenings a week at their flat for 2 hours. I'm waiting to hear from the 3rd one as to whether or not he wants to continue. His work is pretty demanding so I think it's the timing that will be the issue.
So there we have it. I'll have an income again. Not a king's ransom but a good start.
Now - the third conditional. What's that again?
It's been good to be here, experiencing the city and life in a foreign country properly for the first time, but reality sets in eventually, especially when I look at my bank balance. Plus, I'm really not good at doing nothing. No, really, I'm not. Stop laughing.
So work it is. Two interviews in the last week and it appears they were both succesful. For one of them, I start teaching at 8am next Monday morning (ouch!) - in a government dept (not sure which one). The company has a 3 year contract to teach English on site to various government offices all over Madrid, so I'm going to be teaching civil servants. Ironic, really. At least we'll have something in common. My first 2 students are "directors" - not quite clear what that means here other than presumably they're reasonably high up and slightly older. The woman who interviewed me said she thought that would be a good reason to send me because I'm "slightly more mature". Ouch. Backhanded compliments all round.
I'm excited and terrified at the same time. I guess this is the crunch. I find out if I'm actually a good teacher. At least I start from the position of thinking I probably am! Having been on training teams etc for a lot of years, and generally feeling pretty pleased with myself when I have trained/taught someone something, I feel I've got a good base. But can I teach English? We'll see. All I can do is my best, which I will.
The kicker is going to be getting up in the mornings, for the first time in 6 months. It's not like I've been in bed til 12 every day (OK, some days) but I also haven't actually had to set an alarm really for ages. From now on, Monday to Thursday, I'm going to have to be up around 6.45. I just checked online and sunrise here is around 8. Still, at least in the dark I might not look as trashed as I'll actually be! So there will be some early nights coming up, which will be very unusual. My body clock seems to have very happily swung onto Spanish time, and bed at 3 or 4 in the morning is pretty normal. Still, again, years of shiftwork mean I'm fairly flexible and reckon I'll deal with it OK.
The other company hope to have some classes to offer me in October sometime.
2 of my 3 private students want me back too, which is good and they've moved their lessons so that I teach both of them 2 evenings a week at their flat for 2 hours. I'm waiting to hear from the 3rd one as to whether or not he wants to continue. His work is pretty demanding so I think it's the timing that will be the issue.
So there we have it. I'll have an income again. Not a king's ransom but a good start.
Now - the third conditional. What's that again?
Saturday, 12 September 2009
Distractions
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.
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.
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
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