Yup, stairs, not stars!
Really, I should have the tightest buns and the most toned thighs ever (sadly, most of you know that I don't). And why should this be the case? The Madrid Metro, mainly.
Here's why, using today's excursions as an example:
7.30 - leave flat, go down 8 flights of stairs (4th floor flat, no lift). Walk to Metro.
7.40 - Enter Valdeacederas Metro: descend 4 flights of stairs
8.00 - Exit Rios Rosas Metro: ascend 4 flights of stairs
9.30 - Enter Nuevos Ministerios Metro: descend 3 flights of stairs (and 3 escalators)
09.50 - Exit Sainz de Baranda Metro: ascend 5 long escalators, but walking cos I was late, then 2 flights of stairs to street.
12.10 - Enter Sainz de Baranda Metro: descend 2 flights of stairs
12.20 - Change at Manuel Becerra - 2 flights of stairs
12.30 - Change at Ventas - 2 flights of stairs and a long walk
12.40 - Exit Pueblo Nuevo Metro: 4 flights of stairs
12.45 - 10 minute fast walk to academy to get paid (that's why I was walking fast!)
13.00 - 10 minute walk to Pueblo Nuevo Metro
13.10 - Enter Metro : descend 4 flights of stairs
13.20 - Change at Diego de Leon - long walk and 2 flights of stairs
13.30 - Change at Cuatro Caminos - 1 escalator (ok, I stood on this one!)
13.40 - Exit Valdeacederas - ascend 4 flights of stairs
13.50 - Get home - ascend 8 flights of stairs
18.50 - Leave flat : descend 8 flights of stairs, then 10 minute walk
19.00 - Arrive at student's flat : ascend 6 flights (has lift, never uses it)
20.00 - Leave student : descend 6 flights then 10 minute walk
20.10 - Arrive home: ascend 8 flights.
Tired yet? Cos I bloody well am!
Monday, 1 March 2010
Sunday, 14 February 2010
Is it art?
Or is it just a bunch of crap hanging on walls, that inexplicably people will pay good money for?
Last Saturday, my flatmate and I decided it was time to get some "culture". Neither of us, by our own admission, are that interested in art, but we live in a city with allegedly 3 of the best art galleries ever! The Prado, the Thyssen and the Reina Sofia. We plumped for the Reina Sofia cos it was free on a Saturday afternoon.
Having stuffed ourselves full of patatas bravas, huevos y fritos and, in Nat's case, calamares, along with a large beer, we joined the other freebie-seekers at the gallery.
4 floors. 4 floors of.......? Well, excuse me for appearing un-cultured, but in my opinion, 4 floors of shite. In the entire place, I found around 10 paintings I actually liked - 7 by Dali who I already knew I was a fan of, and 3 previously unseen. They were: Procesion de la Muerte by José Gutierra Solana, Un Mundo by Angeles Santos Torroella and a pencil drawing of a Basque Cemetery by Dario de Regoyos (can't find that one on the net).
As for Guernica by Picasso, supposedly the piéce de resistance and the gallery's pride and joy - all I can say is I have absolutely no idea what all the fuss is about. I've heard people going on about this painting ever since I arrived. "Oh you must go to the Reina Sofia, at least to see Guernica" etc etc. Well, now I have. And I wish I hadn't bothered. It's smaller than I expected and to me, just looks like another Picasso except it's black and white.
Maybe we were unlucky. Maybe sometimes the temporary exhibitions are better and we just picked the wrong week. There was a lot of modern and cubist art on show, neither of which do anything for me at all. And I'm afraid that the signs above some of the rooms proclaiming "Experimental, neo-modern" etc (isn't neo-modern some kind of tautology?) put us off even sticking our heads round the door.
After about 2 hours we were done, somewhat disillusioned and consoled ourselves with a glass of red at a local bar and headed home! Not a total waste of an afternoon as at least we can now say we've been there, but I won't be going back any time soon.
Last Saturday, my flatmate and I decided it was time to get some "culture". Neither of us, by our own admission, are that interested in art, but we live in a city with allegedly 3 of the best art galleries ever! The Prado, the Thyssen and the Reina Sofia. We plumped for the Reina Sofia cos it was free on a Saturday afternoon.
Having stuffed ourselves full of patatas bravas, huevos y fritos and, in Nat's case, calamares, along with a large beer, we joined the other freebie-seekers at the gallery.
4 floors. 4 floors of.......? Well, excuse me for appearing un-cultured, but in my opinion, 4 floors of shite. In the entire place, I found around 10 paintings I actually liked - 7 by Dali who I already knew I was a fan of, and 3 previously unseen. They were: Procesion de la Muerte by José Gutierra Solana, Un Mundo by Angeles Santos Torroella and a pencil drawing of a Basque Cemetery by Dario de Regoyos (can't find that one on the net).
As for Guernica by Picasso, supposedly the piéce de resistance and the gallery's pride and joy - all I can say is I have absolutely no idea what all the fuss is about. I've heard people going on about this painting ever since I arrived. "Oh you must go to the Reina Sofia, at least to see Guernica" etc etc. Well, now I have. And I wish I hadn't bothered. It's smaller than I expected and to me, just looks like another Picasso except it's black and white.
Maybe we were unlucky. Maybe sometimes the temporary exhibitions are better and we just picked the wrong week. There was a lot of modern and cubist art on show, neither of which do anything for me at all. And I'm afraid that the signs above some of the rooms proclaiming "Experimental, neo-modern" etc (isn't neo-modern some kind of tautology?) put us off even sticking our heads round the door.
After about 2 hours we were done, somewhat disillusioned and consoled ourselves with a glass of red at a local bar and headed home! Not a total waste of an afternoon as at least we can now say we've been there, but I won't be going back any time soon.
Birthday weekend 2010
I know it's nearly 2 weeks since my birthday but I've been, you know, busy!
It barely feels like a year since my last birthday, spent in the UK having a blast with my friends, but yet the next one rolled around and crept up on me, as they do.
On Thursday evening my ex-flatmate, Eve, arrived in town from Dublin so we met up and went to the mad, packed sidreria near Sol with Julie, Jorge, Louise, Susan, Philip, and Debbie. We quaffed sangria and beer, and were regularly disturbed by a big group of lads next to us who, depending on which one of them you talked to, were either from Asturias, Romania or various other global origins. Wherever it was, one of them decided that what we needed to experience was him projectile vomiting all over the floor of the bar, wiping his mouth and then grabbing the rest of his group to move on somewhere else. We weren't sorry to see them go but were sorry that the staff made no attempt to clean the floor before we left, carefully stepping round the offending puddle!
On Friday afternoon, Kim arrived from Alcoy and joined in the fun. We headed to Bar Ave Fenix where the regular Friday evening meetup happens, though we stayed in the upstairs bar and let the language practice happen downstairs without us (much to Julie's annoyance when she found us skiving!) Having hung around there for a while, a group of us headed off to yet another sidreria down the road for late night nosh. After rather too many beers, there's nothing like a table groaning with carbs - bread, patatas bravas, tortilla and some very good pimientos al padron. We unexpectedly made the last Metro, or at least some of us did, saving ourselves for the Saturday!
Saturday (my actual birthday) lunchtime saw 5 of us finally making it to the Retiro (Madrid's main park) to go boating on the lake. I'd been meaning to do it since I arrived but Eve was absolutely desperate, having failed to take the plunge (not literally, fortunately) despite living here nearly a year, and coming back for a visit. So 1pm, hangovers aside, found the 5 of us split over 2 boats, Debbie and I in one, and Eve, Kim and Louise in the other. Louise was entirely unsure of the wisdom of this, not being the biggest fan of water or boats (not sure which) but we basically bullied her into getting in. Debbie and I, if I say so myself, made a damn good show of rowing ourselves round the lake though the strong wind that picked up at the end threatened to spin us round in circles rather a lot. The other boat turned out to be a fantastic lesson in how to row backwards. I never quite worked out how they did it, but somehow Kim and Eve, with an oar each, kept the boat going with the flat end (yes, I'm sure it has a name) forwards, instead of the pointy end!
45 minutes later and we were back on dry ground, and heading off to find lunch. Nat came to join us at Cafe El Espéjo on Recoletos for some very good bocadillos. I was alarmed to find myself the only person who ordered an alcoholic drink - but it was my birthday, after all!
Then it was time to head back to the flat and prepare for the "get-together". Drinks and nibbles were laid out beautifully by Kim, things were shifted round a little so that people could actually sit down and then I waited for the doorbell to ring. I'd told people to come from 8, which seemed ridiculously early for the Spanish, yet by about 9.30 almost everyone had arrived. I may have slightly underestimated the number of people who would actually show up, and consequently was having a slight panic around 11pm when there appeared to be somewhere in the region of 21 people here! At least I did actually know them all. There were old faces and new (some older than others!) and everyone seemed to have fun chatting, catching up with unexpected friends, demolishing the crisps, bread, pizza, houmous etc and making serious inroads into the bottles. Richi had been making his famous Cosmopolitans which kept everyone going, then Jorge arrived clutching the ingredients for 10 litres of sangria, including a gigantic purple plastic tub to make it in! It was damn good sangria too, although certain people who shall remain nameless saw fit to spike it a bit later in the evening with rum and Cointreau!
I was entirely embarrassed by the number of presents people brought - thank you all! In no particular order I was lucky enough to receive: 7 bottles of very good red wine, cider, Ferrero Rocher, Swiss chocolate, hot chocolate mix (plus miniature whisk), an Irish art calendar, special bread from Jaen, an olive-wood belt, a beautiful mounted print, a photo frame, a beer cooler, a scarf, a top, a silver necklace, 3 CDs, more chocolate, handmade soap, a very amusing book, a bracelet, beer, and probably some things I have failed to list (apologies!). And 2 jars of Marmite - yay! My friends in the UK who sadly weren't able to come sent money with strict instructions to spend it on sangria and beer (not a problem!) and I received some more dosh that I have yet to spend!
Roz, a friend I met last summer, arrived at nearly 1am, having flown in from Cambridge late after work so it was lovely of her to come, albeit briefly. By around 1.30am there were about 9 people left so we retired to the living room, put on some background music and just chatted and laughed til the early hours.
I finally disappeared under the duvet at 6 but was back up at 10 tidying up and getting ready to go out and meet Kim again. She treated me to lunch at my favourite vegetarian restaurant, La Isla del Tesoro before we wandered around the shops in Fuencarral then she had to head to the airport. Eve came round in the evening for more chatting, reminiscing about her time living at the flat and plotting her return to Madrid!
Exhausted but very happy, my birthday weekend came to an end and life returned to some semblance of normality. But huge thanks to: Eve, Kim, Roz, Julie (& 3 friends!), Nat, Jorge, the other Jorge, Debbie, Louise, Pedro, Moira, Philip, Mariano, Richi, Richard, Nacho, Almu, Javi, Carmen, Rafa and Celia for making my first birthday in Madrid so memorable.
Random photos by me, and stolen from friends can be found here
It barely feels like a year since my last birthday, spent in the UK having a blast with my friends, but yet the next one rolled around and crept up on me, as they do.
On Thursday evening my ex-flatmate, Eve, arrived in town from Dublin so we met up and went to the mad, packed sidreria near Sol with Julie, Jorge, Louise, Susan, Philip, and Debbie. We quaffed sangria and beer, and were regularly disturbed by a big group of lads next to us who, depending on which one of them you talked to, were either from Asturias, Romania or various other global origins. Wherever it was, one of them decided that what we needed to experience was him projectile vomiting all over the floor of the bar, wiping his mouth and then grabbing the rest of his group to move on somewhere else. We weren't sorry to see them go but were sorry that the staff made no attempt to clean the floor before we left, carefully stepping round the offending puddle!
On Friday afternoon, Kim arrived from Alcoy and joined in the fun. We headed to Bar Ave Fenix where the regular Friday evening meetup happens, though we stayed in the upstairs bar and let the language practice happen downstairs without us (much to Julie's annoyance when she found us skiving!) Having hung around there for a while, a group of us headed off to yet another sidreria down the road for late night nosh. After rather too many beers, there's nothing like a table groaning with carbs - bread, patatas bravas, tortilla and some very good pimientos al padron. We unexpectedly made the last Metro, or at least some of us did, saving ourselves for the Saturday!
Saturday (my actual birthday) lunchtime saw 5 of us finally making it to the Retiro (Madrid's main park) to go boating on the lake. I'd been meaning to do it since I arrived but Eve was absolutely desperate, having failed to take the plunge (not literally, fortunately) despite living here nearly a year, and coming back for a visit. So 1pm, hangovers aside, found the 5 of us split over 2 boats, Debbie and I in one, and Eve, Kim and Louise in the other. Louise was entirely unsure of the wisdom of this, not being the biggest fan of water or boats (not sure which) but we basically bullied her into getting in. Debbie and I, if I say so myself, made a damn good show of rowing ourselves round the lake though the strong wind that picked up at the end threatened to spin us round in circles rather a lot. The other boat turned out to be a fantastic lesson in how to row backwards. I never quite worked out how they did it, but somehow Kim and Eve, with an oar each, kept the boat going with the flat end (yes, I'm sure it has a name) forwards, instead of the pointy end!
45 minutes later and we were back on dry ground, and heading off to find lunch. Nat came to join us at Cafe El Espéjo on Recoletos for some very good bocadillos. I was alarmed to find myself the only person who ordered an alcoholic drink - but it was my birthday, after all!
Then it was time to head back to the flat and prepare for the "get-together". Drinks and nibbles were laid out beautifully by Kim, things were shifted round a little so that people could actually sit down and then I waited for the doorbell to ring. I'd told people to come from 8, which seemed ridiculously early for the Spanish, yet by about 9.30 almost everyone had arrived. I may have slightly underestimated the number of people who would actually show up, and consequently was having a slight panic around 11pm when there appeared to be somewhere in the region of 21 people here! At least I did actually know them all. There were old faces and new (some older than others!) and everyone seemed to have fun chatting, catching up with unexpected friends, demolishing the crisps, bread, pizza, houmous etc and making serious inroads into the bottles. Richi had been making his famous Cosmopolitans which kept everyone going, then Jorge arrived clutching the ingredients for 10 litres of sangria, including a gigantic purple plastic tub to make it in! It was damn good sangria too, although certain people who shall remain nameless saw fit to spike it a bit later in the evening with rum and Cointreau!
I was entirely embarrassed by the number of presents people brought - thank you all! In no particular order I was lucky enough to receive: 7 bottles of very good red wine, cider, Ferrero Rocher, Swiss chocolate, hot chocolate mix (plus miniature whisk), an Irish art calendar, special bread from Jaen, an olive-wood belt, a beautiful mounted print, a photo frame, a beer cooler, a scarf, a top, a silver necklace, 3 CDs, more chocolate, handmade soap, a very amusing book, a bracelet, beer, and probably some things I have failed to list (apologies!). And 2 jars of Marmite - yay! My friends in the UK who sadly weren't able to come sent money with strict instructions to spend it on sangria and beer (not a problem!) and I received some more dosh that I have yet to spend!
Roz, a friend I met last summer, arrived at nearly 1am, having flown in from Cambridge late after work so it was lovely of her to come, albeit briefly. By around 1.30am there were about 9 people left so we retired to the living room, put on some background music and just chatted and laughed til the early hours.
I finally disappeared under the duvet at 6 but was back up at 10 tidying up and getting ready to go out and meet Kim again. She treated me to lunch at my favourite vegetarian restaurant, La Isla del Tesoro before we wandered around the shops in Fuencarral then she had to head to the airport. Eve came round in the evening for more chatting, reminiscing about her time living at the flat and plotting her return to Madrid!
Exhausted but very happy, my birthday weekend came to an end and life returned to some semblance of normality. But huge thanks to: Eve, Kim, Roz, Julie (& 3 friends!), Nat, Jorge, the other Jorge, Debbie, Louise, Pedro, Moira, Philip, Mariano, Richi, Richard, Nacho, Almu, Javi, Carmen, Rafa and Celia for making my first birthday in Madrid so memorable.
Random photos by me, and stolen from friends can be found here
Saturday, 30 January 2010
A dead nice Saturday afternoon!
A gloriously sunny Saturday afternoon in Madrid seemed like the perfect opportunity to head out to the Cementerio de Neustra Senora de la Almudena (link in Spanish), in the east of the city. Debbie had been meaning to go for ages and hadn't quite made it, despite it being walking distance from her flat, so along with Krisztina, we had a lazy hot chocolate and cake then headed down there, via an impromptu street market where the pirate DVD merchants vied with the old ladies selling lemons, in amongst the actual stalls of clothes.
It's apparently 160 times the size of a football pitch (that doesn't help me at all with my girly spatial awareness problem) - but needless to say, it's HUGE! It covers about 120 hectares and there are approximately 5 million people buried there, not including those in the civil/Jewish cemetery across the road. It was founded in 1884 and was the principal cemetery for the city until 1973 when the Cementerio del Sur in Carabanchel started to be used.
The main entrance is very imposing, which is appropriate given the size of the place. Having seen no warning signs, we were a bit surprised when a guard came over to tell us that we couldn't take photos in the cemetery unless we'd got a permit from the office in advance. Suitably chastened, we apologised, kept walking and as soon as we were out of his sight, started snapping!
The first area is laid out like a Greek cross, with a mix of old and new necropoleis (yes, I checked, that's the plural of necropolis!) and more modern tombs, but no mausolea. However, the further we walked, the older it got until we made it to the much older areas with a Gothic feel. That's what I'd been expecting. Having been to La Cimetiére de Pére Lachaise in Paris, I was looking forward to lots of gloomy stone angels etc, and the older area didn't disappoint. We barely saw anyone else all afternoon and the whole place was very peaceful and relaxing, with a pervading smell of pine trees. On the far side, there's a memorial to "Las Trece Rosas" - dedicated to the 13 young women (7 of them children), members of the Unified Socialist Youth, who were executed there (along with 43 men) on 5th August 1939 by a Francoist firing squad as part of a massive execution campaign.
Once we'd spent about 4 hours wandering around the main part, we headed across the road to the civil/Jewish section where there was a real mixture of graves. Many of them were people who had been born outside Spain, but had died in Madrid, but there were also a large number of historical figures, literary, musical and artistic. The main thing we noticed in this section was the prevalence of Socialist symbolism (hammers and sickles, red flowers) and a lot of Freemasons. A magazine article explained that many of those buried there had been deemed unworthy of a place in the main cemetery due to religious or political reasons.
The day had been kind - bright blue skies, warm sun, none of us got arrested for taking photos, but finally it started to get chilly and we left the peace and quiet to head back towards town for a well-earned beer and then home.
My photos are HERE
Friday, 29 January 2010
Age of consent
While trawling the net this morning for something completely unrelated, I stumbled across this:
http://www.avert.org/age-of-consent.htm?12
Now I know that all parts of the world have different views on morality and acceptable behaviour etc, but some of this is just shocking, given that it's the 21st century and this is supposed to be a civilised world.
Have we really learnt nothing over the years about the unacceptability of certain types of discrimination? Many of these countries practice religions where tolerance is meant to be one of the main tenets. Yeah, right! Not that I believe that religion should come into this particular equation at all.
I'm all for negating the risk of the corruption of minors, but we have brains and common sense and by a certain age (no, I'm not giving my opinion on what that age should be), surely it should be taken as read that we know our own minds, preferences, proclivities and can be trusted to do what we feel is right and natural.
I can't decide what was more surprising:
- the number of countries in which same-sex relations are still completely illegal
- the number where a couple has to be married before having sex
- the places where F/F sex is fine, but not M/M
Though I think first place in the surprise competition (though maybe it shouldn't!) has to go to the age of consent in Vatican City. Really - well done there, guys! Let people get together at a really young age, but whatever you do, don't let them use contraception!
OK, back to what I was meant to be doing before I get started on the global overpopulation problem.....
http://www.avert.org/age-of-consent.htm?12
Now I know that all parts of the world have different views on morality and acceptable behaviour etc, but some of this is just shocking, given that it's the 21st century and this is supposed to be a civilised world.
Have we really learnt nothing over the years about the unacceptability of certain types of discrimination? Many of these countries practice religions where tolerance is meant to be one of the main tenets. Yeah, right! Not that I believe that religion should come into this particular equation at all.
I'm all for negating the risk of the corruption of minors, but we have brains and common sense and by a certain age (no, I'm not giving my opinion on what that age should be), surely it should be taken as read that we know our own minds, preferences, proclivities and can be trusted to do what we feel is right and natural.
I can't decide what was more surprising:
- the number of countries in which same-sex relations are still completely illegal
- the number where a couple has to be married before having sex
- the places where F/F sex is fine, but not M/M
Though I think first place in the surprise competition (though maybe it shouldn't!) has to go to the age of consent in Vatican City. Really - well done there, guys! Let people get together at a really young age, but whatever you do, don't let them use contraception!
OK, back to what I was meant to be doing before I get started on the global overpopulation problem.....
Thursday, 28 January 2010
Neglected blog, I know!
OK, I haven't updated since New Year's Day. Bad Emma!
What can I say? It's been an up and down month. I was ill for the first 6 days of it, recovered just in time to lose a brand new student before she'd even started, and then go back to classes.
Feeling distinctly sorry for myself, I jumped at the chance of a very short-notice Vaughan Town cos they were desperate for Anglos. I can't quite understand the logic of them booking so many Spaniards onto a program if they're then going to have start frantically looking for Anglos at 3 days notice. The MC and PD had to be Anglos as well as doing their actual jobs, which is ridiculous. Still, I had the usual great time, with lovely people even if I did give up a week's teaching (or rather the money) to do it.
Then I went straight back to teaching again and it's been a busy week with planning, and fitting some extra lessons in to cover the ones I missed. One potential job opportunity passed on by a good mate in France unfortunately came to nothing in the end, but there are a couple of other irons in the fire at the moment. Fingers crossed.
Cathy and I are in the middle of a murder mystery for the beginning of March so that's keeping me busy too. Lots of plotting and silliness.
It appears to have stopped raining/snowing permanently so I'm determined to get out and get some exercise too. I've turned into a flat-bound blob recently!! Living on toast, cheesy pooofs and red wine isn't exactly a healthy lifestyle.
Being completely broke has gone, if I'm honest, from being a bit of an amusing novelty, to being downright annoying. I can't afford to go out and be sociable or buy anything but the absolute basics. I just waited nearly a week before I could get a new battery for my watch, for crying out loud! One of my flatmates is moving out in a couple of weeks, so the bills/internet costs at the flat will go up accordingly, and it looks like I might be looking for a new occupant for my flat (and more importantly, a new cat-sitter) in Brighton sooner than I expected.
Still, I keep reminding myself that this was meant to be an adventure and so far it is. Just not quite how I envisaged it!
I'm at least consoled by the fact that everyone has been VERY supportive over the last 10 months, and they continue to be so. I'm lucky to have lovely people in my life at the moment!
OK, soppiness over. Back to the third person singular and how to murder a male stripper.
Hasta luego.....
What can I say? It's been an up and down month. I was ill for the first 6 days of it, recovered just in time to lose a brand new student before she'd even started, and then go back to classes.
Feeling distinctly sorry for myself, I jumped at the chance of a very short-notice Vaughan Town cos they were desperate for Anglos. I can't quite understand the logic of them booking so many Spaniards onto a program if they're then going to have start frantically looking for Anglos at 3 days notice. The MC and PD had to be Anglos as well as doing their actual jobs, which is ridiculous. Still, I had the usual great time, with lovely people even if I did give up a week's teaching (or rather the money) to do it.
Then I went straight back to teaching again and it's been a busy week with planning, and fitting some extra lessons in to cover the ones I missed. One potential job opportunity passed on by a good mate in France unfortunately came to nothing in the end, but there are a couple of other irons in the fire at the moment. Fingers crossed.
Cathy and I are in the middle of a murder mystery for the beginning of March so that's keeping me busy too. Lots of plotting and silliness.
It appears to have stopped raining/snowing permanently so I'm determined to get out and get some exercise too. I've turned into a flat-bound blob recently!! Living on toast, cheesy pooofs and red wine isn't exactly a healthy lifestyle.
Being completely broke has gone, if I'm honest, from being a bit of an amusing novelty, to being downright annoying. I can't afford to go out and be sociable or buy anything but the absolute basics. I just waited nearly a week before I could get a new battery for my watch, for crying out loud! One of my flatmates is moving out in a couple of weeks, so the bills/internet costs at the flat will go up accordingly, and it looks like I might be looking for a new occupant for my flat (and more importantly, a new cat-sitter) in Brighton sooner than I expected.
Still, I keep reminding myself that this was meant to be an adventure and so far it is. Just not quite how I envisaged it!
I'm at least consoled by the fact that everyone has been VERY supportive over the last 10 months, and they continue to be so. I'm lucky to have lovely people in my life at the moment!
OK, soppiness over. Back to the third person singular and how to murder a male stripper.
Hasta luego.....
Friday, 1 January 2010
New Year in Madrid
And so the last day of 2009 rolled on, as last days of a year are wont to do.
Most of the day passed with lots of global online chatting, listening to fireworks being set off pointlessly in broad daylight, and much staring from the balcony at the sheets of torrential rain which obscured the other side of the road, and didn't bode well for a terribly welcoming midnight in Sol.
However, the skies were kind and by the time I left to go to Richi's place for his party (sorry, NOT party, I keep forgetting - little gathering), it was dry. I travelled on a near-deserted Metro down to Atocha where I met Debbie who was still in search of cava for later. Thanks to the convenient opening hours of the Chinos, she was soon to be cavaed up!
And off to Richi's we went. The little gathering was in full swing with a flat full of people I'd never met, but who all turned out to be lovely, friendly and a lot of fun. Of course, I should have realised that - they're Richi's friends, after all! Several hours of chat, drinking and nibbles followed. My beer, which I'd carted halfway across Madrid, didn't even get a look in due to the lethal Cosmopolitans he insisted on plying us all with all evening. Really, Richi? You're absolutely sure you had the recipe right? 2 parts vodka, 1 part Cointreau and a splash of cranberry juice? Not that I'm complaining but I hadn't planned to be quite so smashed by 9.30pm!
11pm arrived and we donned coats, hats, scarves, gloves, grabbed cava, plastic cups and way too many grapes and headed for Sol. The closer we got, the busier the streets became until we finally hit what appeared to be an impassable logjam, just in sight of the square. Undaunted, we formed a human chain and dragged eachother through the crowds, only to find that once we actually made it to Sol, there was plenty of room. Weird. Perfect timing - we arrived at 11.45 and formed a terribly English circle (a la 1980s dancing but without the obligatory handbag in the middle), and set about dishing out the cava and the grapes. Hands duly filled with the requisite comestibles, we waited for the hands of the clock to click over to midnight. I hadn't realised that there aren't actually any chiming bells to time the grape-eating to, so once the big hand had hit 12 we were reduced to simply stuffing 12 grapes into our mouths and washing them down as quickly as possible with the cava. I think Richi and I tied for first place on getting all 12 down! Wish I'd gone for the seedless variety though!
Something approaching a firework display ensued - London and Sydney have nothing to worry about though! There was a lot of clinking of glasses (or whatever noise it is that plastic glasses make), wishing of Feliz Ano Nuevo to all and sundry and more photo taking. I've never been to Trafalgar Square for New Year but I have a feeling that Sol was a damn sight friendlier, with complete strangers hugging and "Salud"-ing all over the place.
Debbie decided she needed someone to kiss, and I was tasked with finding a suitable participant. The first victim was a guy in a group next to us, who was only too happy to be dragged over and worked his way round us all. Victim number 2 I don't really remember, mainly because number 3 was my piéce de resistance! See the final photo to see what I'm talking about! Yum.
So 2009 was officially over, and I'd survived the best part of 9 months in Madrid. And what a 9 months they've been! Fingers crossed, there'll be many more.
So Happy New Year, everyone, and here's to you all getting everything you hope for in 2010.
Saturday, 26 December 2009
A different Christmas
This Christmas Day I did something I'd been meaning to do for years, but various things had always got in the way - usually the simple pressure to spend the day with one relative or another.
But 2009 was my year for changing things so I started making enquiries in October into volunteering opportunities in Brighton for Xmas Day. Information was few and far between, but via the Brighton Volunteer Centre I got in contact with Brighthelm Community Centre. They run a community Christmas on 25th and 26th every year and needed around 20 volunteers each day. So I got in touch with the organiser and was welcomed as a volunteer, then I met up with them on the 22nd for a little planning meeting. They were a diverse bunch, which I guess was only to be expected. I didn't really learn much about what to expect on the day, other than the fact that the guy who normally does the entertainment had unfortunately died a few weeks ago, so they were asking all the volunteers to pitch in and help out. Eek.
So 9am Christmas morning found me walking the half hour to the centre, through a deserted Brighton, wearing my most cheerful clothes, Xmas baubles in my ears and carrying my guitar.
When I arrived, the kitchen was a hive of activity with 5 volunteers having got there early to attack 25lbs of sprouts, hundreds of potatoes and the usual trimmings. There was a huge nut roast parcel waiting to be cooked, 3 gigantic turkeys, 2 huge hams, bread sauce, cheese sauce and gravy, someone making custard from scratch, and a gigantic Christmas cake.
The kitchen appeared to be under control so I set to work helping to lay the tables and working on teas and coffees. Which turned out to be my job for most of the day, by default. People started to arrive around 10.30, and having walked there in the freezing cold, were in need of a hot drink. And of course some of them were homeless so had actually spent all night outside.
At 11am there was a mini service because the community centre is also a church - however, most of the guests were sitting in the eating area and chatting and the volunteers were busy, so most of us just vaguely hummed along with the carols!
At 12 we started to serve up hot soup from a tureen the size of a small house. The soup turned out to be WAY too popular and it ran out before everyone had had a cup. Cue frantic searching through the cupboards where we finally tracked down 5 boxes of tomato cup-a-soup and everyone was happy.
At 1, it was time for the mammoth task of dishing up a full Xmas dinner to the 65-odd guests. Each volunteer chose a table to serve and went backwards and forwards between the table and the hatch, collecting steaming hot plates of turkey, roasties, mash, sprouts, carrots, bread sauce, cranberry sauce and gravy. Once everyone else was served, we got to eat too! The veggie nut roast was lovely and as not quite as many veggies had turned up as expected, I got 2 helpings. With extra sprouts! The guests were all offered seconds too, and most accepted though strangely enough, the second time around most of them said they'd have everything except the sprouts! Can't understand it.
Before dessert, it was time to dole out the presents, all of which had been donated to the group over the preceding weeks and wrapped by the organiser and her family. Unfortunately, having carefully originally separated the presents out into male, female and unisex, the parcels had all got mixed up on the way to the centre so it was a case of waiting until everyone had opened their present, and then swapping if they wanted to. Christmas pudding and custard followed, though there was way too much. Then more tea and coffee! I think over the course of the day, I made about 30 large pots of tea, 15 pots of fresh coffee and we cleared about 25 pints of milk.
The group started to thin out after that, but probably half of them stayed on for "entertainment"! Several of the older guys took their turn on the mike, with rousing choruses of What Shall We Do with the Drunken Sailor, My Way, Side by Side, Pack up your Troubles etc, complete with a can-can dancing pensioner and much use of a tambourine. A couple of people read poems. The minister and his family had made a somewhat bizarre home video version of the nativity story, which was shown on a big screen. I didn't escape, so my guitar and I made it to the front for just one song, thankfully. An attempt was made to feed the Queen's speech through onto the big screen via the net but it was not to be! Oh dear. What a shame. Never mind. I've made it this many years without ever having seen the damn thing, don't see why I should start now!
Over the course of the day, I'd chatted to a good number of both volunteers and guests. I met Annie, a volunteer who's a jazz singer and medium; Suzanna who has the smiliest face I've ever seen; Michael, a guest (who'd come to the centre via a mental health charity) who knew everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) there is to know about the life, works and death of Bruce Lee and was determined to make sure that everyone else knew it all by the end of the day too. The 50 out of focus photos of various BL-related places in Hong Kong were a bit of a trial, to be honest! I talked to a lovely guy who for reasons I didn't get to the bottom of, is currently living at a homeless hostel where he can enter at midnight but has to be out by 6am, so for 18 hours a day he's on the streets. If he hadn't told me that, I'd never have known. He was eloquent, intelligent, reasonably nicely turned out (!) Yet he came back for food and drinks over and over, pointing out that he hadn't eaten since the 23rd so was stocking up. He needed to phone the hostel to make sure he could get a place that night, but didn't have 20p for the phone either, so he borrowed my mobile then constantly thanked me and apologised for the next hour! I had random, brief and bizarre conversations with many people, but they all had one thing in common - if it weren't for the community Christmas, they would either be alone at home, or simply have absolutely nowhere to go. It was an eye-opener, made me feel very privileged but also made me realise even more what an obscenely over-commercial, expensive and wasteful time Christmas is for most of us.
I finally made it home at about 5.30, tired and desperately in need of a drink (no alcohol allowed during the day!) but very, very glad I'd done it. And I'll do it again. I can recommend it!
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
Universal balance
On my return from my evening at Cathy's I found 2 messages waiting for me, both of which reduced me to tears - both from really good friends. One simply very lovely and heartfelt and the other to say that her mum had passed away the day before. Life is regularly tinged with sadness, but at this time of year it's always worse. So to all the people I know who are having a really hard time at the moment - you know who you are - I'm thinking of you lots.
The silliness begins...
Having been the only person I know to have actually made it back to their "home" country without hideous delays, here I am! In my flat (weird), with the cat (cute) and preparing for 9 days of Christmas socialising.
My flight from Barajas was only an hour late so I was back here just after midnight on Sunday night, or rather Monday morning. Having unpacked my very tiny amount of clothing, I set to work behaving exactly like I do in Madrid - ie I got a glass of red wine and spent til 3am on the internet!
On Monday, I stocked up with the necessities from my much-missed local greengrocer/deli, had an unexpected afternoon tea with Cathy and looked forward to an evening catching up with my ex over pizza and beer. But it was not to be. The vagaries of the British public transport system, combined with the half an inch of snow and a bit of ice, meant that he couldn't make it down to Brighton. Ah well.
Things fell into place more on Tuesday. I went to a meeting with the other volunteers that I'll be spending Christmas Day with (weird bunch, but I guess that's only to be expected!) then it was off to Cathy's for an evening of Christmas silliness! She'd laid on a really good spread, practically all homemade, and must have been slaving over the proverbial hot stove pretty much all day. There was homemade houmous, carrot and beetroot cakes, chickpea flour fairy cakes, steaming hot potato croquettes, fried cheese balls, spring rolls, crisps, cranberry Bellinis and most importantly, mulled wine and mince pies. Yum.
She'd gone all out on the games front too. A frustrating, and potentially argument-inducing "Christmas Number 1 in which year?" game which caused much scratching of heads and a lot of nostalgia, Family Fortunes and a quiz. Crackers, da-dos, stickers, paper hats and exploding streamers. And the obligatory Christmas CD playing in the background. All the requirements for a lovely, festive evening with friends.
It was really good to see everyone, and I haven't laughed so much in a while! Despite my pauper status having caused me to knock any chance of present buying on the head, I should know my friends better, and I came away with 3 bags of pressies. Naughty people, but THANK YOU! I'll have some serious catching up to do if I ever have any money!
I got home very full of food, and possibly slightly too much alcohol (so what's new?), ready to crash and prepare for the next round!
So thanks Cathy, Sid, Ed, Sarah, Carol, Anne, Andrea (and 2 unnamed friends!) for a fun evening!
The photos are here: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/emsr2d2/Christmas2009AtCathyS?authkey=Gv1sRgCIDzm5mVv9zaDg&feat=directlink
Now if I could just get Stop the Cavalry out of my head.....
My flight from Barajas was only an hour late so I was back here just after midnight on Sunday night, or rather Monday morning. Having unpacked my very tiny amount of clothing, I set to work behaving exactly like I do in Madrid - ie I got a glass of red wine and spent til 3am on the internet!
On Monday, I stocked up with the necessities from my much-missed local greengrocer/deli, had an unexpected afternoon tea with Cathy and looked forward to an evening catching up with my ex over pizza and beer. But it was not to be. The vagaries of the British public transport system, combined with the half an inch of snow and a bit of ice, meant that he couldn't make it down to Brighton. Ah well.
Things fell into place more on Tuesday. I went to a meeting with the other volunteers that I'll be spending Christmas Day with (weird bunch, but I guess that's only to be expected!) then it was off to Cathy's for an evening of Christmas silliness! She'd laid on a really good spread, practically all homemade, and must have been slaving over the proverbial hot stove pretty much all day. There was homemade houmous, carrot and beetroot cakes, chickpea flour fairy cakes, steaming hot potato croquettes, fried cheese balls, spring rolls, crisps, cranberry Bellinis and most importantly, mulled wine and mince pies. Yum.
She'd gone all out on the games front too. A frustrating, and potentially argument-inducing "Christmas Number 1 in which year?" game which caused much scratching of heads and a lot of nostalgia, Family Fortunes and a quiz. Crackers, da-dos, stickers, paper hats and exploding streamers. And the obligatory Christmas CD playing in the background. All the requirements for a lovely, festive evening with friends.
It was really good to see everyone, and I haven't laughed so much in a while! Despite my pauper status having caused me to knock any chance of present buying on the head, I should know my friends better, and I came away with 3 bags of pressies. Naughty people, but THANK YOU! I'll have some serious catching up to do if I ever have any money!
I got home very full of food, and possibly slightly too much alcohol (so what's new?), ready to crash and prepare for the next round!
So thanks Cathy, Sid, Ed, Sarah, Carol, Anne, Andrea (and 2 unnamed friends!) for a fun evening!
The photos are here: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/emsr2d2/Christmas2009AtCathyS?authkey=Gv1sRgCIDzm5mVv9zaDg&feat=directlink
Now if I could just get Stop the Cavalry out of my head.....
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