Archive for the ‘expat life’ Category
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27
May
2011
Holiday on Spain’s Almerian Coast, family style
Right next door to the Costa del Sol is not where I expected to find a relatively quiet beach side town and an almost entirely foreigner free population, however on our recent Easter holiday to the coast of Almería in Andalusia I was surprised to find myself holidaying mostly, in fact almost exclusively, with Spanish families.
Palm Trees and Swimming Pool an child-friendly 15 metres from the beach
The winding streets of Mojácar
While Spain’s ubiquitous coastal developments do line much of the Almerian coast, smaller communities without high-rise or sprawling apartment developments can be found if you look carefully enough. In the small resort of Puerto Rey, where we stayed, stylish houses with white washed walls set behind bright right red bougainvilleas line the path to the beach. There are no rows of British and German bars.
Desert Scenery of Almeria, Andalusia, Spain
The bright flowers and green lawns of the towns close to the beach contrast with the surrounding desert landscapes and in the background of this particular area the omnipresent Mojácar, a Moorish hilltop fortress, reminds the visitor of the long Arab occupation of the region, influences of which can be seen and enjoyed throughout Andalusia.
5
Dec
2010
Saying goodbye – and trying not to get caught looking shifty
There are a lot of goodbyes when you’re an expat. When you’re a young thing backpacking and travelling, it seems there is always
someone new arriving in town – ready to replace the last ones out. But as I drift towards my mid-30s (until I reach 38 I am in my MID THIRTIES so bugger off the lot of you), circles seem to shrink and getting replacements becomes trickier.
We said goodbye last week to two of the core members of our gang. I’m feeling very melancholy about it. I know their time was up. They arrived in this wonderful city single (ish) and fancy free 12 years ago and left married, with two children, home owners and undoubtedly with a dog in their future. (I predict a golden retriever and another child, but no-one has ever accused me of being Nostradamus so don’t hold me to it.) The leaving was painful – selfishly, I think those of left behind in the minus three degree slush are feeling it more than those of us headed to a couple of months off to play beach cricket. Slackers.
29
Oct
2010
The perfect little Spanish city
Oviedo is a stunning small city in the North of Spain. It’s the capital of the province of Asturias, a beautiful area of green pastures and rocky mountains. The city is also not far from a patch of coast that boasts some of the most beautiful beaches in Europe and perhaps the world, allowing some residents to claim they have had days of surfing in the morning and skiing in the afternoon. Which would obviously require surfing in the kind of temperatures that make you wonder if you these people are dedicated or just mad.
If you’ve never looked at travelling to the North of Spain but Oviedo is ringing some bells – it may be that you heard of it watching Woody Allen’s film, ‘Vicky, Cristina, Barcelona’ in which it features fairly heavily. Allen’s a passionate fan and the town has returned the love by placing a bronze statue of him in one of the city’s many pedestrian streets around the centre. He joins an impressive and varied selection of statues that dot the city’s centre and includes the gorgeous “La Maternidad” by Botero. As well as an excellent example of loved and appreciated public art, La Maternidad’s substantial, exposed derrier gives children plenty of entertainment. At any given moment there is a small child giggling and pointing. Ah, bottoms. They’re pure comedy.
15
Oct
2010
WHERE DO WE HIDE ALL OUR OLD PEOPLE?
CC photo credit: Asta Adamonyte
One day as I was visiting a little Spanish town, the streets suddenly flooded with elderly couples as Church finished and they poured out the doors to return home for lunch. Smartly dressed and able footed, they were all walking the cobbled streets home.
I remarked to The Spaniard that I’d never seen so many old people in one place outside an aged care home, or alongside an excursion bus from an aged car home (depressingly supervised by bustling nurses speaking to their clientele as if they were mentally challenged rather than just old).
The Spaniard responded with recognition of the marked difference in Australia, “yes, where do you hide all your old people?”. He’s pretty perplexed by having virtually never laid eyes on anyone over seventy in the two years he spent living in inner Sydney. It’s not something you tend to notice until it’s pointed out to you. Then you see how many elderly there are supposed to be walking the streets. I didn’t really know how to answer him. I don’t really know where Australia, well, Sydney and Melbourne, put their old people. Where are they all? You’d have to assume they’ve all been sent to the aged care facilities that sometimes bus them out for a rare sighting by the rest of the public, because they’re not strolling the streets like they are in towns and suburbs across Spain. Not in my experience anyway.
2
Sep
2010
Spanish Wedding – Medieval style (Architecturally Speaking – not dress up as Buxom Wench speaking)
This weekend I went to a wedding in the lovely, picturesque town of Ayllón en Segovia. It´s only an hour from Madrid and the area is dotted with other, equally delightful little towns (Riaza is worth a stop). We discovered you can still walk into a little tavern in a fortress wall or looking over a medieval plaza as the bullfighting plays on the television (or indeed, if you go at the right time, the town’s bullfighting or running of the bulls festival might actuall be going on live in the plaza) and buy a beer for one euro. And you thought Spain was all beaches and 15 euro cocktails.
The wedding venue, The Cloisters of Ayllón, was breathtaking. These are the kind of ruins you find all over Spain – there are so many medieval castles and ruins people literally don’t know what to do with them. The volume is simply too big for a National Trust type scheme to meet the task of restoring them all. (The government runs Paradors as part of a conservation plan – historical buildings converted in to affordable hotels and you really should stay in at least one if you visit Spain).
15
Jul
2010
The Kiss that has Captured a Nation
Spain won a little thing called The Soccer World Cup. You may have heard about it. It’s been all parties, happiness, brotherly love, and a rare feeling of national unity. How much partying? This might give you an idea.
In the midst of all this Sporting revelry came a moment of romance that made every Spaniard gasp and grab their chest in vicarious swooning: the emotional and spontaneous kiss between the Spanish Captain, long time national hero and one of the heroes of the winning game; Iker Casillas, and the woman this year voted as the most beautiful presenter in the world; Sara Carbonero.
Iker is himself quite hot. The kind that faces thousands of screaming school girls wherever he goes – this insurance ad does a very amusing parody of his misfortunes on that front (FYI: ‘Me siento seguro’ means ‘I feel secure’).
And Sara is well, breathtaking.
Professional life has taken on a new complication for these two beautiful people since they started going out only five months ago, just as the build up to the Cup was hitting it’s stride. Since news broke of their relationship, every time Sara interviewed Iker, we watched in awkward fascination as they both maintained stoic professionalism in numerous question and answer sessions.
12
Jul
2010
First world problems
I am sorry to say that I am coming to you live from the outdoor sofa of our villa in Ibiza. A good part of this afternoon was spent lounging on a beach bed ordering white sangria (who knew that such a joyful drink existed?) and dipping in and out of the ocean pretending that my bottom looked EXACTLY like the Brazilian teenager’s on the beach bed in front of me – it doesn’t, which is quite shattering. There have been some other significant downsides to the holiday thus far:
- The supermarket was closed tonight on our way home from the beach. We had to settle for pizzas from the local pizzeria up the road. Which meant no cleaning up which I really enjoy on holiday.
- Son has a puncture in his floatie. Spending a fair bit of time swimming in circles as a result. Doesn’t seem to notice which is a little worrying.
- Due to lack of willingness on my part to spend a lot of time cooking, baby daughter has had same thing to eat for three days in a row and surprisingly still seems unkeen on couscous with steamed broccoli. Fusspot.
9
Jul
2010
Small Children and the World Cup. Not Ideal.
photo credit: twicepixI am not a major Sports fan. It’s mostly just the big stuff that captures my attention, like the World Cup, the world’s largest sporting event. It’s a big deal. In case you hadn’t noticed.
I understand that watching sports has a family feel to it. We’re in summer here so it’s the perfect occasion to have a few people over to watch the game and celebrate or commiserate afterwards with a BBQ and a few beers. It somehow seems appropriate to bring the kids over. They want to be part of the excitement and learn how to scream at referees and become completely blind to any penalties committed by their own team while developing an unprecedented level of skill and expertise at identifying those of the opposing team. It’s a great opportunity to start developing these essential life skills.
There are times however, when children should not be brought along to watch the game. This generally applies when they are too young to either concentrate on the game or entertain themselves quietly. Very quietly.
Here are some things one shouldn’t do during a World Cup final match, just off the top of my head:
18
Jun
2010
The children are the future, if you can get them to listen
This week I started teaching English after finally accepting that without mastering the Spanish language, in a market of 20% unemployment, holding out for a dream job in my chosen field probably wasn’t going to get me that holiday out of the community within a community I was hoping for.
To really make me work for my dollar, they’ve given me a class of children. It’s quite one thing to bluff your way through an English class with adults by reading line for line the text from a teacher’s book, it’s another altogether to be charged with controlling a class of 6 year old girls and trying to get their attention for a sufficiently large sequence of nano seconds to impart some knowledge.
11
Jun
2010
Cleaners – the good, the bad and the awkward
I think The Spaniard and I may be talking about Elsa to our grandchildren. Elsa was our previous cleaner. And what a cleaner. Coming home every Tuesday was filled with expectations of what previously invisible corner of dirt and disarray had been transformed in to a sparkling and orderly delight. Not only did she not miss a single surface, from skirting boards to drawer ledges, cupboard surfaces and ceiling corners – something you start out assuming would be standard for a cleaner but quickly learn is a surprisingly rare ability – she also dismantled and cleaned oven fans, found fresh sheets and put them on the beds without having to be provided with detailed instructions, put on several loads of washing and hung them out, and numerous other tasks you hadn’t even thought of let alone realised needed to be done; and one of the best things of all, she also re-arranged THE INSIDE of cupboards.
