I forgot to write about Friday night. Unusually for us we went to bed very late - 12.30 and as we turned out the light we congratulated ourselves on how 'Spanish' we were getting.
Until that is about 10 minutes later when a car pulled up and a banging on our front door was accompanied by the cry of Eeeeaaan, it is I, Barreeee. Barry was on his way out and inviting Ian up to the bar where there was kareoki (how is it spelt?) which was soon to be starting at around 1 o'clock! We hid under the bedclothes until he went away. Perhaps we've still got a way to go before we get truely into the Spanish way of life!
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Last night we went out for a drink. We are getting brave and are visiting different bars, so we went to Bar Extremadura for the first time and to Pepes on the way back. The total cost of our night out was 1 euro!!!! On Saturday night we went to 'Disco Tony's' - a late night bar, in the uk the sort of place where you would pay an entrance fee and a lot for your drinks. Our bar bill came to 60 cents!!!!!!!! for two glasses of red wine! Now we are getting a little more confident we are happy to go into the bars, there are more faces we know and we can exchange a few words. We also realise that we are not going to break the bank!
I had my hair cut yesterday - I asked the lady in one of the supermarkets where she got her hair done and she told me that her friend did it and she would introduce her to me in Bar Tuna that night. Which she did and for one horrible moment I thought that the entertainment that night instead of Ian singing was going to be me getting my haircut, but no, she came round here and luckily given communication was all by mime, I had the nicest haircut I can remember. Ian says I look spanish.
We had a nasty shock on Sunday. We let the kittens into the bedroom, the first time they had been outside of my workshop. We were changing the bedclothes and of course for kittens this was great fun. Anyway, Schnookems got stood on, and we thought was badly injured. He couldn't move and had blood coming out of his mouth and nose. You can only imagine how we felt. Anyway, we went to the vet (an emergency appointment) and it turned out that he was probably just badly shocked. Today he (we know he is a he - the vet told us) is running round quite happily. Still perhaps a bit quiet, but quite happy to jump on Dookems and have a little rough and tumble!
We have been introducing the dogs to the kittens. Dookems has no fear - quite happy to sock basil on the nose. We have let Bob in here with them and he was quite happy for them to snuggle up against him - in return for them sharing their food with him of course.
Today we are going to Llerena with Aderlardo - we are going to try and get the electric bills sent to us and not Jesus and Selena.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Kittens, lessons and fleece
The kittens have settled in nicely. We think we have been very fortunate as they are friendly little things, actively seeking out laps to sit on and quite happy to play around our feet. I am not certain that my workshop is the best home for them. We did have one cartoon like moment when one of them help onto a spoke on the spinning wheel and the other one jumped on the tredle. They've not really met the dogs yet, but we'll introduce them soon so they get used to each other. Davy still treats them with distain - and for most of the time pretends he can't see them.
Our lessons are coming along. We had a practical lesson on Tuesday - going to the market and asking things. Until we can roll our 'r's we are going to find it difficult making ourselves clear, but at least we are on the right track.
I think we are in the 'dry period' now with not much rain expected. This means we are watering our plants twice daily - I wonder how the gardens which we see which are an abundance of colour keep watered. Some form of irrigation I suppose. The temperature is now really quite nice. The heatwave of a week ago has disappeared and the breeze now is cooling as opposed to the heat-gun like wind we were experiencing.
I have been washing fleece. it seemed sensible to take advantage of the dry weather to get the fleece washed and dried as it can take an age otherwise and gives off a rather special aroma!
We are going out for lunch tomorrow. At 6.30!!! How strange. We are going to lunch with Adelerado who is our teacher and his family at their 'country house' which is about 1.5kms away. We went for a walk out there the other night and although the house is only on a very slight hill, the views were amazing. it was suprising what a difference just a small rise in hight meant.
Our lessons are coming along. We had a practical lesson on Tuesday - going to the market and asking things. Until we can roll our 'r's we are going to find it difficult making ourselves clear, but at least we are on the right track.
I think we are in the 'dry period' now with not much rain expected. This means we are watering our plants twice daily - I wonder how the gardens which we see which are an abundance of colour keep watered. Some form of irrigation I suppose. The temperature is now really quite nice. The heatwave of a week ago has disappeared and the breeze now is cooling as opposed to the heat-gun like wind we were experiencing.
I have been washing fleece. it seemed sensible to take advantage of the dry weather to get the fleece washed and dried as it can take an age otherwise and gives off a rather special aroma!
We are going out for lunch tomorrow. At 6.30!!! How strange. We are going to lunch with Adelerado who is our teacher and his family at their 'country house' which is about 1.5kms away. We went for a walk out there the other night and although the house is only on a very slight hill, the views were amazing. it was suprising what a difference just a small rise in hight meant.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Schnookems and Dookems again
Dookems is the black one and Schnookems the tabby. Must admit we had a bit of a debate this morning on how to spell their names. They are settling in well and seem a couple of happy kittens.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
When will they stop?
Having fun that is!
After last week when our adoptive home decided to have a quiet weekend partying in the country for 48 hours solid followed by taking Monday off so that they could spend the day partying in the village, Kate and I thought that they'd probably want to take things easy for a few months, at least until the next fiesta.
So it was that last night went we entered Bar Tuna at 10.40 and discovered the place almost empty, we assumed that we were correct and people were taking a well earned rest. In fairness they'd earned it.
After a drink and after Kate had thrown a gin over my leg, we found ourselves chatting to Tony and his girlfriend and enquired if Saturday nights were always this quiet.
"It's not quiet tonight," said Tony's girlfriend, "they've all gone home for tea. Soon they will be back and later some of us will go to Disco Tony's!"
"Oh good!" I said crashing to the floor by the door, as Kate felled me with a rugby tackle. In my excitement at this news it seemed that I made a reflexive break for the exit.
We stayed and shortly the numbers started to increase as the village started to head back out after tea.
We stayed a little longer and found ourselves talking to a few faces, old and new, and again were pleased to see how genuinely friendly everyone we encounter is. At lunchtime we had stopped in Pepe's Bar on the way back from the supermercado and had bumped into 'wiki' man, so named because he likes a whisky, likes to see others drink whisky with him and, like all the other Spanish around here, doesn't pronounce the letter 's'. He did look genuinely pleased to see us and it was a relief to see that he doesn't start on the whisky too early in the day.
So, like him, many people made the time for us and to chat. So friendly were they in fact that when the Playstation was brought into the bar with some mad crazy Karaoke game in it, they positively insisted that I sing the only 2 English songs on the disc. The mad crazy fools!
What I didn't understand before I started dueting "It's Not Unusual" with 'Gypsy' was that this was a competition with a virtual Simon Cowell voting on our respective vocal performances. Had I known this beforehand then I suspect that my advantage of having English as a first language would have told and I wouldn't have been so comprehensively beaten by my Spanish speaking friend. It was close though with just a few thousand points separating us and I suspect that had 'Gypsy' also been trying to effect a Welsh accent, the competition might have been significantly closer.
However they weren't going to let my humiliation put them off and a few songs later I found myself before the bar once more, microphone in hand, strutting up and down to the opening bars of "Shall I Stay or Shall I Go?"
The response was unanimous.
The response was also surprising.
Apparently they wanted me to stay and amuse them through the complete song. I amused them.
I was magnificent. I imagine it was like the first night Elvis played Las Vegas.
I strutted. They cheered.
I sang. They ignored the noise and cheered more.
The Playstation went odd and stated showing the lyrics in Spanish. I continued and a bigger cheer.
By the end of the 3 minutes the bar was empty. I don't think they're ready for The Clash.
After a few miuntes of quiet the bar refilled. I think they all had to go outside to cool down having over heated through the excitement of my performance.
At about 2am or so, and with the bar starting to quieten, we made our excuses and left. We turned left from the bar and walked throughh the town as our normal route was unlit.
Hence minutes later we were in Pub Lucas, half bar/half night club, with more of our new friends, spitting sunflower seeds on the floor.
The noise of cracking sunflower seeds was deafening. As Kate chatted to a gentlemen about who knows what, I found myself in the surreal position of being surrounded by half a dozen of Villagarcia's finest young females all cracking sunflower seeds and spitting the shells on the floor.
It's no wonder they're all single.
Still Kate and I aren't the type to judge and so when Pub Lucas were decent enough to throw us all out we graciously accepted a lift home.
One minute later the car stopped.
I explained that this wasn't our home.
They explained that it was only 5am and that this was Disco Tony's.
What is wrong with them? Will they never stop?
We entered and shortly we found ourselves surrounded by many from Bar Tuna. I suggested karaoke. They suggested silence. You can have too much of a good thing I guess.
Two hours later we left to discover that daylight was upon us. I felt like a teenager again, leaving a club that we had entered in darkness to find the sun had risen. All that was missing was the tinkle of bottles and the hum of a milk float.
Gypsy drove us home and moments later we found ourselves joined by the remainder of Disco Tony's who we had foolishly invited back for 'fiesta'. Fortunately they didn't stay too long and by a little after 8am this morning we were able to head for bed.
Perhaps we'll go out again next year.
After last week when our adoptive home decided to have a quiet weekend partying in the country for 48 hours solid followed by taking Monday off so that they could spend the day partying in the village, Kate and I thought that they'd probably want to take things easy for a few months, at least until the next fiesta.
So it was that last night went we entered Bar Tuna at 10.40 and discovered the place almost empty, we assumed that we were correct and people were taking a well earned rest. In fairness they'd earned it.
After a drink and after Kate had thrown a gin over my leg, we found ourselves chatting to Tony and his girlfriend and enquired if Saturday nights were always this quiet.
"It's not quiet tonight," said Tony's girlfriend, "they've all gone home for tea. Soon they will be back and later some of us will go to Disco Tony's!"
"Oh good!" I said crashing to the floor by the door, as Kate felled me with a rugby tackle. In my excitement at this news it seemed that I made a reflexive break for the exit.
We stayed and shortly the numbers started to increase as the village started to head back out after tea.
We stayed a little longer and found ourselves talking to a few faces, old and new, and again were pleased to see how genuinely friendly everyone we encounter is. At lunchtime we had stopped in Pepe's Bar on the way back from the supermercado and had bumped into 'wiki' man, so named because he likes a whisky, likes to see others drink whisky with him and, like all the other Spanish around here, doesn't pronounce the letter 's'. He did look genuinely pleased to see us and it was a relief to see that he doesn't start on the whisky too early in the day.
So, like him, many people made the time for us and to chat. So friendly were they in fact that when the Playstation was brought into the bar with some mad crazy Karaoke game in it, they positively insisted that I sing the only 2 English songs on the disc. The mad crazy fools!
What I didn't understand before I started dueting "It's Not Unusual" with 'Gypsy' was that this was a competition with a virtual Simon Cowell voting on our respective vocal performances. Had I known this beforehand then I suspect that my advantage of having English as a first language would have told and I wouldn't have been so comprehensively beaten by my Spanish speaking friend. It was close though with just a few thousand points separating us and I suspect that had 'Gypsy' also been trying to effect a Welsh accent, the competition might have been significantly closer.
However they weren't going to let my humiliation put them off and a few songs later I found myself before the bar once more, microphone in hand, strutting up and down to the opening bars of "Shall I Stay or Shall I Go?"
The response was unanimous.
The response was also surprising.
Apparently they wanted me to stay and amuse them through the complete song. I amused them.
I was magnificent. I imagine it was like the first night Elvis played Las Vegas.
I strutted. They cheered.
I sang. They ignored the noise and cheered more.
The Playstation went odd and stated showing the lyrics in Spanish. I continued and a bigger cheer.
By the end of the 3 minutes the bar was empty. I don't think they're ready for The Clash.
After a few miuntes of quiet the bar refilled. I think they all had to go outside to cool down having over heated through the excitement of my performance.
At about 2am or so, and with the bar starting to quieten, we made our excuses and left. We turned left from the bar and walked throughh the town as our normal route was unlit.
Hence minutes later we were in Pub Lucas, half bar/half night club, with more of our new friends, spitting sunflower seeds on the floor.
The noise of cracking sunflower seeds was deafening. As Kate chatted to a gentlemen about who knows what, I found myself in the surreal position of being surrounded by half a dozen of Villagarcia's finest young females all cracking sunflower seeds and spitting the shells on the floor.
It's no wonder they're all single.
Still Kate and I aren't the type to judge and so when Pub Lucas were decent enough to throw us all out we graciously accepted a lift home.
One minute later the car stopped.
I explained that this wasn't our home.
They explained that it was only 5am and that this was Disco Tony's.
What is wrong with them? Will they never stop?
We entered and shortly we found ourselves surrounded by many from Bar Tuna. I suggested karaoke. They suggested silence. You can have too much of a good thing I guess.
Two hours later we left to discover that daylight was upon us. I felt like a teenager again, leaving a club that we had entered in darkness to find the sun had risen. All that was missing was the tinkle of bottles and the hum of a milk float.
Gypsy drove us home and moments later we found ourselves joined by the remainder of Disco Tony's who we had foolishly invited back for 'fiesta'. Fortunately they didn't stay too long and by a little after 8am this morning we were able to head for bed.
Perhaps we'll go out again next year.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Beep if you're happy, beep if you're sad
Last night saw the second European football final in a month involving an English and a Spanish team. Foloowing from Middlesborough's thrashing by Sevilla, Arsenal were tasked with upholding English pride in Villagarcia.
We'd already established from the weekend that Barcelona were not universally loved in this area. There seems to be a similarity with Manchester United in England, in so much as many people love them, but hard core football fans, such as Real Madrid fans, would rather see Barcelona stuffed than win anything.
On the back of that I felt I might be safe to make an appearance at a bar we'd not yet been to last night. I probably wouldn't have gone but Kate insisted that I should make the effort. Remember that.
I selected Bar Tuna as the landlord had said he was a fervant Barcelona fan and I'd told him I'd be supporting Arsenal. I'd actually forgotten about the football being on until a DJ on the radio mentioned the score being 1-0 and mentioned this to Kate. Hence sje forced me out of the house.
So shortly after the start of the second half, with Arsenal still in front, I found myself at Bar Tuna, the busiest pub we'd yet seen in Villagarcia. It was packed around a large TV in the corner and the bar where there was a smaller TV. I was fortunate to choose a position at the bar next to a Real Betis fan who was also shouting for Arsenal. My arrival generally went unnoticed as all attention was focussed on the TVs.
I felt this was good in view of the score. This continued tillabout 75 minutes when Barcelona got their first goal. The bar seemed happy at this.
They shared their happiness with me.
About 5 minutes later they shared more happiness with me as Barcelona got their second. They're expressive at most times, but this was on a new level.
It hadn't prepared me for the final whistle though. Once the game was over, our Spanish friends decided to celebrate in the apparently time honoured tradition of trying to blow each other up.
Guy Fawkes night is a pale and tame imitation in the face of Spanish fireworks frivolities. They were quite literally holding rockets as they lit them and launched them into the sky, into the field, into the play park and then through open windows and doors.
I'm not exaggerating when I say I feared for my safety. I retired back to the bar.
Bad move. The landlord was teaching his 6 year old son how to light fireworks on the bar football table. "Ellos Loco" I believe is the phrase.
Fortunately they soon exhausted their supplies and, with the eastern end of Villagarcia ablaze, they jumped into their cars to celebrate some more. I was invited, but feared I might later wake naked and bound in a field somewhere, so politely declined.
Much of the bar departed to burn down more buildings and I remained with about 5 equally nervous and non-pyromaniacally inclined amigos.
It was explained that the others would be driving around beeping their horns because Barcelona had won. It was then explained that had Barcelona lost, they would have marked it by driving around beeping their horns. They like beeping horns apparently.
45 minutes later, and with the horizon ablaze, they returned. many then departed, but I remained with a handful of drinkers that, like with a late one in the UK, gradually declined as time pressed on.
Coomunication was relatively easy and I was able to explain that we want to learn Spanish, that we want to be part of the community and that shouldn't we ring the fire brigade.
Things seemed to go quite well and the landlord explained that normally he'd be in trouble with his wife for being up late, but tonight he would be fine because he was spending his time practicing his English. He suggested I should spend more time in his bar.
I also discovered that our local policeman is also recounting the story of our first meeting and how we kept calling him Joe. I believe his name is Herrara. We'll stick with Joe.
So at 4.15 this morning, my new friend Gypsy dropped me off at my door and I excitedly ran in to share news of my new experiences with my darling wife.
Surprisingly, she wasn't entirely pleased at my return. How odd!
We'd already established from the weekend that Barcelona were not universally loved in this area. There seems to be a similarity with Manchester United in England, in so much as many people love them, but hard core football fans, such as Real Madrid fans, would rather see Barcelona stuffed than win anything.
On the back of that I felt I might be safe to make an appearance at a bar we'd not yet been to last night. I probably wouldn't have gone but Kate insisted that I should make the effort. Remember that.
I selected Bar Tuna as the landlord had said he was a fervant Barcelona fan and I'd told him I'd be supporting Arsenal. I'd actually forgotten about the football being on until a DJ on the radio mentioned the score being 1-0 and mentioned this to Kate. Hence sje forced me out of the house.
So shortly after the start of the second half, with Arsenal still in front, I found myself at Bar Tuna, the busiest pub we'd yet seen in Villagarcia. It was packed around a large TV in the corner and the bar where there was a smaller TV. I was fortunate to choose a position at the bar next to a Real Betis fan who was also shouting for Arsenal. My arrival generally went unnoticed as all attention was focussed on the TVs.
I felt this was good in view of the score. This continued tillabout 75 minutes when Barcelona got their first goal. The bar seemed happy at this.
They shared their happiness with me.
About 5 minutes later they shared more happiness with me as Barcelona got their second. They're expressive at most times, but this was on a new level.
It hadn't prepared me for the final whistle though. Once the game was over, our Spanish friends decided to celebrate in the apparently time honoured tradition of trying to blow each other up.
Guy Fawkes night is a pale and tame imitation in the face of Spanish fireworks frivolities. They were quite literally holding rockets as they lit them and launched them into the sky, into the field, into the play park and then through open windows and doors.
I'm not exaggerating when I say I feared for my safety. I retired back to the bar.
Bad move. The landlord was teaching his 6 year old son how to light fireworks on the bar football table. "Ellos Loco" I believe is the phrase.
Fortunately they soon exhausted their supplies and, with the eastern end of Villagarcia ablaze, they jumped into their cars to celebrate some more. I was invited, but feared I might later wake naked and bound in a field somewhere, so politely declined.
Much of the bar departed to burn down more buildings and I remained with about 5 equally nervous and non-pyromaniacally inclined amigos.
It was explained that the others would be driving around beeping their horns because Barcelona had won. It was then explained that had Barcelona lost, they would have marked it by driving around beeping their horns. They like beeping horns apparently.
45 minutes later, and with the horizon ablaze, they returned. many then departed, but I remained with a handful of drinkers that, like with a late one in the UK, gradually declined as time pressed on.
Coomunication was relatively easy and I was able to explain that we want to learn Spanish, that we want to be part of the community and that shouldn't we ring the fire brigade.
Things seemed to go quite well and the landlord explained that normally he'd be in trouble with his wife for being up late, but tonight he would be fine because he was spending his time practicing his English. He suggested I should spend more time in his bar.
I also discovered that our local policeman is also recounting the story of our first meeting and how we kept calling him Joe. I believe his name is Herrara. We'll stick with Joe.
So at 4.15 this morning, my new friend Gypsy dropped me off at my door and I excitedly ran in to share news of my new experiences with my darling wife.
Surprisingly, she wasn't entirely pleased at my return. How odd!
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
40 degrees in the shade
Our thermometre registered 40 degrees in the shade today. Ian and I wondered quite what we have done - it is very hot and it is only May. What is August going to be like...
Anyway, we are now having Spanish lessons and our tutor tonight told us that Spain was in the middle of an unexpected heatwave - phew (in both senses of the word). Adelerdo told us that the weather today was like the weather in August so it looks like we will cope and not have to worry about frying when we go out.
There is a very hot wind, which comes from the south and east, it has a special name which I didn't get, but this means that there isn't even a refreshing wind at the moment.
We are learning the word for HOT though. Today it was mucho calores.
Anyway, we are now having Spanish lessons and our tutor tonight told us that Spain was in the middle of an unexpected heatwave - phew (in both senses of the word). Adelerdo told us that the weather today was like the weather in August so it looks like we will cope and not have to worry about frying when we go out.
There is a very hot wind, which comes from the south and east, it has a special name which I didn't get, but this means that there isn't even a refreshing wind at the moment.
We are learning the word for HOT though. Today it was mucho calores.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Make them stop....
The Spanish like to eat drink and dance. This is something we are learning. As the village decamped to the 'campo' for a weekend of partying, we thought we'd nip down to show our faces and then come back again.
Wrong.
Before we'd even parked the van people were hanging out of their tents waving beer bottle and (worryingly) sausages at us. By the time we'd parked the van we found ourselves in the first tent armed with beer and refusing jamon, lomo, cepia (cuttle fish)...... The message that I am a vegetarian is a difficult one to communicate. I was offered cepia as it is not meat.
We then got taken up to the top to another tent, and then on to another to share in 'lunch' (we'd already had lunched and plenty of snacks). We then took Basil back as he was with us and come back for the party proper. By this time the wine was flowing, but strangely where Ian was given wine (which he had to drink from a leather pouch by pouring it from the flask into his mouth), I was given cococola and a carrot. I was shown how to eat the carrot.
I can't remember how many tents we visited. I don't know how it works but every family group seems to have a large tent or marquee, where they spend no time as they are visiting people inother tents. The tables are straining with food, and most of these tents had proper beer pumps. I must admit, I always thought that I might not be good at many things, but two which I fair well at are picnicing and partying. I realise now I am sadly deluded. At two o'clock in the morning the village young and old alike were dancing away to a band. I really mean young and old, there were the ladies in black with their shawls, and young children in prams.
I think that this was all something to do with a saint, and there was a saint in a chapel, but I must admit that the poor old saint wasn't getting a look in as the partying went on. It was not unlike glastonbury, as people were sat round campfires in the night.
On the Sunday morning, we were woken by sounds of the village loading up their cars again, and indeed, buy 12.00 the village was once more empty. We had made some houmous and an aubergine dip as I thought we'd go back to one of the tents where we had eaten and offer this as our contribution. This time we did not get fuerther than the Mayors tent, where we were bought in for lunch. 'No' is not a word that is understood, and again, we were offered food drink... Ian had paella and they bought me some paella without the meat (but with fish) so I had to decline and was given a plate of lettuce. This so far has been the most difficult thing to communicate. Drink wise - yesterday the drink of choice appeared to be sherry and lemonade which is served with fresh mint and icecubes. When your ice has melted you are supposed to throw your drink away. The drinks are constantly circulating so it is important to throw it away, otherwise the potential for dancing on the state is quite high (it's ok, he didn't).
We are learning that the Spanish are very proud of their food and drink - we are constantly told that this or that is 'de la terra' of this land. The pouch that Ian was drinking the wine out of was proudly shown as having the Extremadura flag on it, and the jamon isn't even just of this land - it is of the village. Even the younger fraternity will tell us that what they are offereing is local. They are also very proud of their paella pans. I am quite good now at making an interested face.
As the afternoon band started and the dancing started again, we had to throwin the towel. We had an early night only to be woken at 11.30 by a convoy of cars returning to the village. This morning is a 'holiday' and much unpacking of cars etc is being done.
We made lots of new friends, including lots of children who are very amused by the fact we cannot roll our 'r's. There were lots of faces we didn't recognise including a few young people, and appreantly these are people who live and work away who come home for the 'romeria' (which I think means weekend party in the country). We also have invited someone round for tea tonight. He is the son of someone in the village and works in Madrid and speaks very good english (hoorah), he is going to help us with our spanish. We were also very grateful yesterday to one of the butchers in the village and his wife who took the time to talk to us slowly and to repeat the words in spanish that we get wrong. They were the best communicators so far, and I popped into their shop to thank them this morning as we felt that we learnt a lot yesterday.
Wrong.
Before we'd even parked the van people were hanging out of their tents waving beer bottle and (worryingly) sausages at us. By the time we'd parked the van we found ourselves in the first tent armed with beer and refusing jamon, lomo, cepia (cuttle fish)...... The message that I am a vegetarian is a difficult one to communicate. I was offered cepia as it is not meat.
We then got taken up to the top to another tent, and then on to another to share in 'lunch' (we'd already had lunched and plenty of snacks). We then took Basil back as he was with us and come back for the party proper. By this time the wine was flowing, but strangely where Ian was given wine (which he had to drink from a leather pouch by pouring it from the flask into his mouth), I was given cococola and a carrot. I was shown how to eat the carrot.
I can't remember how many tents we visited. I don't know how it works but every family group seems to have a large tent or marquee, where they spend no time as they are visiting people inother tents. The tables are straining with food, and most of these tents had proper beer pumps. I must admit, I always thought that I might not be good at many things, but two which I fair well at are picnicing and partying. I realise now I am sadly deluded. At two o'clock in the morning the village young and old alike were dancing away to a band. I really mean young and old, there were the ladies in black with their shawls, and young children in prams.
I think that this was all something to do with a saint, and there was a saint in a chapel, but I must admit that the poor old saint wasn't getting a look in as the partying went on. It was not unlike glastonbury, as people were sat round campfires in the night.
On the Sunday morning, we were woken by sounds of the village loading up their cars again, and indeed, buy 12.00 the village was once more empty. We had made some houmous and an aubergine dip as I thought we'd go back to one of the tents where we had eaten and offer this as our contribution. This time we did not get fuerther than the Mayors tent, where we were bought in for lunch. 'No' is not a word that is understood, and again, we were offered food drink... Ian had paella and they bought me some paella without the meat (but with fish) so I had to decline and was given a plate of lettuce. This so far has been the most difficult thing to communicate. Drink wise - yesterday the drink of choice appeared to be sherry and lemonade which is served with fresh mint and icecubes. When your ice has melted you are supposed to throw your drink away. The drinks are constantly circulating so it is important to throw it away, otherwise the potential for dancing on the state is quite high (it's ok, he didn't).
We are learning that the Spanish are very proud of their food and drink - we are constantly told that this or that is 'de la terra' of this land. The pouch that Ian was drinking the wine out of was proudly shown as having the Extremadura flag on it, and the jamon isn't even just of this land - it is of the village. Even the younger fraternity will tell us that what they are offereing is local. They are also very proud of their paella pans. I am quite good now at making an interested face.
As the afternoon band started and the dancing started again, we had to throwin the towel. We had an early night only to be woken at 11.30 by a convoy of cars returning to the village. This morning is a 'holiday' and much unpacking of cars etc is being done.
We made lots of new friends, including lots of children who are very amused by the fact we cannot roll our 'r's. There were lots of faces we didn't recognise including a few young people, and appreantly these are people who live and work away who come home for the 'romeria' (which I think means weekend party in the country). We also have invited someone round for tea tonight. He is the son of someone in the village and works in Madrid and speaks very good english (hoorah), he is going to help us with our spanish. We were also very grateful yesterday to one of the butchers in the village and his wife who took the time to talk to us slowly and to repeat the words in spanish that we get wrong. They were the best communicators so far, and I popped into their shop to thank them this morning as we felt that we learnt a lot yesterday.
Monday, May 08, 2006
San Isidro and Spanish Hospitality
I was aware that something was going on this weekend, well the posters in the village were giving it away actually. We were pretty confident that there was something to do with tractors happening, and I think a sack race, but we were a bit less clear on this. San Isidro is the patron saint of farmers.
Jim and Viv are with us, and we were a bit worried when the lady in the bread shop said there was a bicycle ride to the San Isidro 'campo', starting at 11, as we only have two bikes. But seeing that we don't see many bikes around, I assumed that this bit was voluntary.
We went to the Plaza yesterday in the village to watch the cycle ride, which entailed quite a lot of milling around, before the cyclists who all seemed to be under 12 headed off. Quite glad that Ian and I did not take our bikes down otherwise we would have looked strange.
We then headed off - on foot to the San Isidro campo, and got overtaken by car after car. We were the only ones walking. It was about mid day by then - so we were proving that it is mad dogs and english men who go out in the mid day sun. Well actually just the english man bit as we left the dogs at home.
Anyway, we arrived and decided that we ought to go and get the van so Ian volunteered for the 4km walk back again. He also bought back a picnic and some chairs.
The whole of the village seemed to be there, having picnics and watching the tractor competition, which was not a race, but a competition where they reversed the tractor and a trailor through a slalom course. There was a gaggle of young girls who could not take their eyes off us, they seemed to keep cropping up where ever we were standing.
And then the hospitality started. Firstly, our neighbour called us over and shared some wine with us, and was waving a sausage and pen knife around from the boot of his car. He also had a tub of ham which he was proud of. His daughter then came and took us into a tent/shelter where they were cooking local dishes. There was one pan of a stew looking thing and a couple of huge things of soup, which was lamb soup judging by the 'baaaing' noises they made when explaining what was in there. I am sure that both were delightful, but as luckily as a veggo, I didn't try any. Actually I don't think we were supposed to be trying any, as I think we were just being shown it.
A couple of other people shouted for us to come and eat with them, as several people had pic nics, but by this time Ian had come back with our picnic. Which was delicious, but I am sure must have looked decidedly megre when compared with the feasts which seemed to be taking place around us.
We then went to look at the tractor competition again, and got invited to share a drink with another family, who took us into their house (summer house?) into the shade and wow - this is when the hospitality really started, beer, wine, meat, bread, cheese - and this was just on the table in the room we were in, in the next room was the largest piella pan I have ever seen, and a table which was full to bursting with local delights. It was only about 4 in the afternoon, but things I think were getting set up for an evening of feasting, we tried to get out at least twice but were grabbed back. There was going to be guitar playing and our lady hostess was very insistant that we stayed, but by this time we felt that it was time to go, so we sneaked out. But we had thanked everyone for their hospitality before we left.
We were offered a mastina puppy, which I think we said no to, and a man was earnestly talking to Ian about somthing which entailed him taking his car key out of his pocket a lot, so I am hoping we've not bought a car.
I'm not sure what happened with regards to the sack race, whether we had misunderstood, or whether that was going to happen later. however given the huge piles of food, I cannot help but think that this would end in disaster!
It gave J & V a good idea of what the village is like and the friendliness of the people. And of course a flavour of the local food.
I think I am getting more confident with the language, well at least I think I am recognising a few more words and can guess the rest. One question we get asked a lot is where we come from, and 'Manchester' always gets a good response (ah, Manchester United...). But there is still an awfully long way to go yet.
I did understand that there is a 2 day festival next weekend (oh dear), the saturday will be lively and the sunday quiet. I think.
Jim and Viv are with us, and we were a bit worried when the lady in the bread shop said there was a bicycle ride to the San Isidro 'campo', starting at 11, as we only have two bikes. But seeing that we don't see many bikes around, I assumed that this bit was voluntary.
We went to the Plaza yesterday in the village to watch the cycle ride, which entailed quite a lot of milling around, before the cyclists who all seemed to be under 12 headed off. Quite glad that Ian and I did not take our bikes down otherwise we would have looked strange.
We then headed off - on foot to the San Isidro campo, and got overtaken by car after car. We were the only ones walking. It was about mid day by then - so we were proving that it is mad dogs and english men who go out in the mid day sun. Well actually just the english man bit as we left the dogs at home.
Anyway, we arrived and decided that we ought to go and get the van so Ian volunteered for the 4km walk back again. He also bought back a picnic and some chairs.
The whole of the village seemed to be there, having picnics and watching the tractor competition, which was not a race, but a competition where they reversed the tractor and a trailor through a slalom course. There was a gaggle of young girls who could not take their eyes off us, they seemed to keep cropping up where ever we were standing.
And then the hospitality started. Firstly, our neighbour called us over and shared some wine with us, and was waving a sausage and pen knife around from the boot of his car. He also had a tub of ham which he was proud of. His daughter then came and took us into a tent/shelter where they were cooking local dishes. There was one pan of a stew looking thing and a couple of huge things of soup, which was lamb soup judging by the 'baaaing' noises they made when explaining what was in there. I am sure that both were delightful, but as luckily as a veggo, I didn't try any. Actually I don't think we were supposed to be trying any, as I think we were just being shown it.
A couple of other people shouted for us to come and eat with them, as several people had pic nics, but by this time Ian had come back with our picnic. Which was delicious, but I am sure must have looked decidedly megre when compared with the feasts which seemed to be taking place around us.
We then went to look at the tractor competition again, and got invited to share a drink with another family, who took us into their house (summer house?) into the shade and wow - this is when the hospitality really started, beer, wine, meat, bread, cheese - and this was just on the table in the room we were in, in the next room was the largest piella pan I have ever seen, and a table which was full to bursting with local delights. It was only about 4 in the afternoon, but things I think were getting set up for an evening of feasting, we tried to get out at least twice but were grabbed back. There was going to be guitar playing and our lady hostess was very insistant that we stayed, but by this time we felt that it was time to go, so we sneaked out. But we had thanked everyone for their hospitality before we left.
We were offered a mastina puppy, which I think we said no to, and a man was earnestly talking to Ian about somthing which entailed him taking his car key out of his pocket a lot, so I am hoping we've not bought a car.
I'm not sure what happened with regards to the sack race, whether we had misunderstood, or whether that was going to happen later. however given the huge piles of food, I cannot help but think that this would end in disaster!
It gave J & V a good idea of what the village is like and the friendliness of the people. And of course a flavour of the local food.
I think I am getting more confident with the language, well at least I think I am recognising a few more words and can guess the rest. One question we get asked a lot is where we come from, and 'Manchester' always gets a good response (ah, Manchester United...). But there is still an awfully long way to go yet.
I did understand that there is a 2 day festival next weekend (oh dear), the saturday will be lively and the sunday quiet. I think.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Recovering
now my blisters have reduced to the size of small zeplins, I am feeling much better. We put Bob on extra sausage rations, which cheered him up, and although he was walking stiffly round the yard, we did find him on the table in the garden snaffling up crumbs, a feat which entailed him jumping on a chair and then diving onto the table as the chair was quite a long way away from the table - he did have the grace to look sheepish.
Today, market day, we went to buy our veg and also went to buy some mince meat as J&V arrive tomorrow and Ian thought he'd make some bolognaise for the freezer. Anyway, we went into one of the butchers, and as I may have said before - nothing is quick here, and nothing is prepacked, or instant.... Ian asked for a kilo of mince and out came the mincer and the mince was well, minced to order. We also bought something which I think was solid fat, a delicacy. Glad that I am a vego and therefore won't be able to try it.
Spanish kitchens are traditionally very small, this is because people shop literally daily for their needs. We're getting into this habit and as anyone who know any of the White family, not having a cupboard overflowing with tins of tomatoes is fairly rare. We are getting so much into this habit we are actually thinking about not replacing the van when its MOT is up and just hiring cars when we have people stay or when we want to go anywhere. Apart from watering cans, there really is everything we could want within walking distance. We have a few months before we need to make that decision, so we'll see how things transpire.
On a final note and anyone of delicate disposition please switch off - I try to learn a couple of new words after we have done something in the village so I can pass comment to people if the opportunity arises. So after we had been out on our bikes, I was able to say that this was the first time this year and it was nice without mountains, and that I was trying to get fit. I have no idea how that came across, but I did get a nod of understanding - which was good. Well, after my walk I thought that stiff legs was a good one to know. Legs are Pienas and stiff is rigidos. Pienas is prounounced in the same way as a male appendage, so I was planning to say I had pienas rigidos.
You try saying that with a straight face.
Today, market day, we went to buy our veg and also went to buy some mince meat as J&V arrive tomorrow and Ian thought he'd make some bolognaise for the freezer. Anyway, we went into one of the butchers, and as I may have said before - nothing is quick here, and nothing is prepacked, or instant.... Ian asked for a kilo of mince and out came the mincer and the mince was well, minced to order. We also bought something which I think was solid fat, a delicacy. Glad that I am a vego and therefore won't be able to try it.
Spanish kitchens are traditionally very small, this is because people shop literally daily for their needs. We're getting into this habit and as anyone who know any of the White family, not having a cupboard overflowing with tins of tomatoes is fairly rare. We are getting so much into this habit we are actually thinking about not replacing the van when its MOT is up and just hiring cars when we have people stay or when we want to go anywhere. Apart from watering cans, there really is everything we could want within walking distance. We have a few months before we need to make that decision, so we'll see how things transpire.
On a final note and anyone of delicate disposition please switch off - I try to learn a couple of new words after we have done something in the village so I can pass comment to people if the opportunity arises. So after we had been out on our bikes, I was able to say that this was the first time this year and it was nice without mountains, and that I was trying to get fit. I have no idea how that came across, but I did get a nod of understanding - which was good. Well, after my walk I thought that stiff legs was a good one to know. Legs are Pienas and stiff is rigidos. Pienas is prounounced in the same way as a male appendage, so I was planning to say I had pienas rigidos.
You try saying that with a straight face.
