who what where whu?

urgh.

just back from stag weekend in Madrid. Obviously there'll be no stories of any of the events.
"What happens on stag, stays on stag."

however, just had this txt exchange with one of the other members of the group:

"the canadians want to meet up with you! send a text to +35386XXXXXXX"

I reply:
"Erm... what canadians? I'm in the UK now"

"Nevermind! It was the ones we met in the bar on Friday."

I have absolutely no memory of meeting anyone at all. I can't even remember Friday or where we were.

nada.

damndamndamndamndamn


more lack of memories and recollections to follow no doubt.....

Travels & tales... and travails??

Hi to people (ok ok, noone else reads this other than a few very too kind froggers) who have asked about me and Spanish and made some far-too-warm comments about my photos on Flikr.

right, [intake of breath]

I "gave up work" at the end of 2005 and decided to get some time to myself away from work.
No clear objectives or destinations in mind but ended up going to Poland to visit a friend, Spain to visit a friend and Guatemala to visit... well, noone actually.

anyway, for Spain and Guatemala I took a very small notepad with me in order to scribble thoughts, observations and to look intelligent when alone in a bar or restaurant.
Rather than blog while abroad, I transcribed the notes into the blog (c'mon - I was abroad and I do not want to be in an internet cafe). A bit of editing here and there but not as much as you'd wish (you haven't read it yet).

Anyway, I have no technical control of this blog so can't "tag" my posts and get them grouped "dynamically". So instead, I've stuck links to the beginnings of the travel notes in the right hand column. yes go look. yes those ones.

Interestingly(?) you have to read the page from the bottom up as this is a blog, so start at the bottom of the page otherwise any humour I can wring from the dry rag of reality will be lost.

alternatively, ignore the links and demand I be amusing or insightful now as opposed to being johnny foreigner not speakinger the languagy.

and now, the end is near..

And fittingly, I'm having a vaguely frustrating day. Nothing too bad, just sometimes I notice a small thing that would make the whole experience better and its frustrating that it wasn't done.

For example, I went to the much-hyped (by guidebooks anyway) Picasso Museum in Malaga. I'm leaving the next day so haven't travelled out of the way for this. I'm interested to see how they'v treated his work as they apparently got a lot of the collection from the family (Malaga is his birthplace).

Actually I can't comment on the entire collection as some of it was in galleries being renovated. However, what was frustrating was that no context was given for any of the work. I tried to work it out as I walked through, thinking it'd be standard chronology but there was no reminders as to when he was born/ how old he was or who the sitters were, and certainly no pointers as to "this piece being interesting as it shows a divergence from his so-far naturalistic approach" etc.). The National and the Tate(s) are usually quite good at this, and if the information is not informative or Art-critic arsey then it can be ignored. But to have nothing... It left me confused and suspecting that it was a ruse so as not to highlight massive gaps in the collection. In one room there was a 'hole' of 10 years not represented...

anyway, some really interesting pieces nonetheless. An early sculpture really grabbed my attention - it was a woman's head, and though the physicality of the head was powerful, the profile was delicate. Also he'd scored into it fine lines for eyes and mouth which played across this powerful shape with the wit and rhythm that his brushwork showed (presumably later in his career).

ah well, London tomorrow.
and in the words of those great philosopers Ren & Stimpy:
"Happy, happy,
Joy, joy..."

Ronda - a bit dizzying

Well off to see Ronda but this time the town not the ex-wife of me mate. Although beautiful, great views, a cliff face and can make you dizzy (yeah yeah, still talking about the town) it looks like this may be my first bad day of weather as it starts out overcast on the verrrryyy slloooowwwwww train from Algeciras.

Actually the day was wonderful. Tried to capture it in pics but this is a place about dizzy angles and panoramas, which my ixus (though lovely) can't handle (sod off all you "poor workman blames his tools...")

anyway, you can try here for some pics.

(hmm, if I trust the views counter, it looks like someone's been looking!!)

"urgh, I hate him! My own son!!"

Met a wonderful retired couple in Cadiz. (Cadiz by the way is an avoidable place. Its ok, but don't leave a great place for it).
Anyway, back to the couple. Met them in a posh tapas bar/ restaurant. This place was very unlike the stickier beer'n'wine'n'crumpled-napkins places I'd been in so far. Of these I'd really liked a couple in Seville, but many were forgettable greasy minifork-like places (especially in Cadiz). This posh place however was far more upmarket, with better heeled clientele. And for these discerning types, the tapas was a bit more interesting and tasty (Pinchu Moronu had lamb and dates on the skewers - really really good).
Anyway, back to the couple (actually I tend to stray from the point when I chat - "no shit you-who-know-me-cry" - but hell, I'll get there I'll get there. and the journey may be fun. Actually this is a crap story to expose you to the joys of my meanderings as this ain't that good a story but...)

Anyway, they were a retired couple from Switzerland who had come to Andalucia 10 years before. They love Spain. Especially the wife who was the chatty one. She loved Spain so much that now, she rarely goes back to Switzerland for more than a coupla days a year "After that, its too much; I have to leave, its so... so.... ooooueeerrurghhhh! [no translation available]".

She then went on to tell me about her wonderful children. Her son, he learnt percussion and is "Very successful. Worked with very good people. He also worked with Sting... and travelled to Africa, America, New York, but still, still he's so swiss! I hate him. My own son!! I hate him! He's so swiss! urgh!"
"Its the mountains" says her husband imitating blinkers with his hands.

Perhaps a bit 'neat' for mountains and flat areas creating different outlooks, but a lovely couple who've discovered a great life in Spain.
Even if they have lost 'connection' with their place of birth.

and kids.

Sevilla

i was very ignorant of Spain before I came. probably still am. But I'd been told that the Alhambra at Granada was "the most beautiful place in the world". So high expectations and actually, these were more or less met! It really is a wonderful place and I'm glad I went. However, from Granada I went to Sevilla and truly, THIS is the most beautiful place I've been yet (save possibly Florence, but so long ago...).

This place is so beautiful I feel it my duty to offer a health warning. Don't take your girlfriend (or allow her to take you) unless you wanna propose. Going down on one knee at the Alhambra would be a tad naff, but after having had a day or so navigating the bewildering Moorish streets and discovering tapas in the afternoon/ evening and generally relaxing, to then go to the Alcazar... the layout of the Mudejar Palace and gardens and ability to walk back and forth (without annoying guards like the Alhambra) with the play of light and warmth and texture, to wander through delicate, carved spaces and then out into gardens and smells and running water... this allows a far better overall experience than Granada. Its not just the palace and garden but to know that there's a great evening ahead... yep, I'd propose in the gardens. Now (December) is nice with very few people around and relative peace but it would be nice to be warm when out of the sun too. I just have to figure out when its both warm, yet not deluged with tourists...

oh, and find a woman.

mind you, if you find the right person then aisle 5 in Sainsbury's next to the ketchup is probably the right spot too.

The worst bit of drinking alone

My mate Joe was right when we were chatting one time. The worst bit of drinking alone is that you have to take all your shit to the toilets each time. Or just risk it left on a chair...

Why am I so dumb?

Well, maybe nothing apart from even more wistfulness would have come from this episode, but I can't help feeling I missed out. Again.

I'm sitting at the bar in Granada (O'Hanigan's) watching a bullshit football match I don't care about. Its just that I didn't have anywhere else to go and (obviously) I know noone here. The game is so bullshit that I'm the only person in the bar actually watching it (Portsmouth vs Spurs for those that care - Redknapp's first game 'back').

So, a really cute brunette comes up to the bar in front of me, makes an order then turns and says "Hola" in her best American accent. I say "hola" back but I'm completely confused as she's talking to the single, bald guy at the bar watching footy.
"How are you?" I ask.
"Oh - you speak English?" (now, I look VERY English. Or German. Though I'm 2nd gen Irish so this is a tad diengenuous. or dumb).
"Ye-es. How long have you been in Granada?"
I won't subject you to anymore but it really was as painful as this. Me staring at her thinking 'you are sooooo cute' and trying to remember to talk. Luckily she was desperate to talk so I let her.
She (her name was Sarah - anywhere between 19 and 22, American and with her sister who was studying in London) came back to say "Hi" again, and then once again to say goodbye as she and her friends were leaving. A couple of them were quite rightly looking askance at her chatting to lone-guy-at-bar-watching-sport (not an acronym for "S.A.D" but...).

Why am I saying all this? Because I had various opportunities and at no point did we exchange email adresses.

I'm an idiot.

Later I chatted to a guy who claimed to work in IT doing websites using designers in London who he was paying (too) good money for (bullshit in other words) and then some girls came along and then it all got very drunken and one of whom I snogged. Although she was lovely, I reckon this was just my horniness from earlier being satisfied.

why am I so dumb?

god i hope its so...

... Henry pledging to stay. God we need him. One of the things he seems to have said is that the fans never booed him or wound him up about not committing himself to the club. And its something I was trying to explain to my brother-in-law, that to be honest, if he went the fans would never boo him, or even if he returned with Barca. I'd even wonder whether Cole would get booed...

Mind you, there's actually nothing new in this story. We always knew that he would only stay if we bought 2 or 3 quality players in certain positions and proved our strategy for the Premiership and Europe.

so, actually, no news. Which is good news I guess.

mime is a cafe con leche, por favor

If coffee tastes like tobacco is it bad or am i just hungover?

yes, I've learnt "cafe con leche". As its the only coffee (hell, any drink other than "cerveca") that I know how to say, I drink it everywhere.
Like everyone, I learn food and drink first, hotels second (they kinda know what you're there for, so fingers and mime go a long way).

Flirting is trickier in a new language. I tend to use my hands (steady there) and knowing gestures. My mate thinks that he invented them but they're kinda essential to pass off ignorance and keep in the chase. Mime is ok (hell, my hands move when i speak in English so just take on more focus when I'm saying "eeerrrrmmmmm....") but you don't really need any of the above when a Columbian woman (21?) looks you squarely in the eye and says "69" when describing her tattoo of 2 dolphins. I'd been trying to say "pisces" the zodiac sign, wondering how not to just stoopidy say "fish" in Spanish. But no. She's just looking me straight in the eye and saying "69. Yes?"

well, yes. No mime needed. maybe some hand movement.
But not in this restaurant....

as it turned out, me and Joe left early. As I say, to my shame, I don't speak Spanish and hadn't picked up on his earlier gaffe (read the earlier link). I did pick up on other things (he can dance, don't let him deceive you) but I respected his need to leave. Admirably he said "feel free to stay, Rich" and meant it, but I was with 2 Columbian girls and knew that the sharks would start circling the second he was gone. and they'd speak Spanish. and they'd be able to dance. and they'd make them giggle. Nah, I decided to leave with dignity rather than (much) later and drunker.

should i have sent this? only time will tell...

As I said (are you reading this in the right order..?) I'm going through notes I wrote as I went round Spain.

Actually I never mentioned that but just wanted to say it to keep you on your toes.
Came across an email adress which caused a wince. hold on - I'm gonna email her - I'll be back...

just crafted the email. how long did that take to write?

about 34 years....

I'm wincing. Only learnt that in the last 20yrs.

Not expecting a response, but hopefully will make someone smile and feel good.

bit cold innit? oh well...

Soccer is the new weather. Get two Brits in a bar who've never met and instead of the weather (passe) they'll say something like "ooh, looks like Harry's gonna get some stick this weekend at Saint's".
Inoffensive to any fan, and thanks to Redknapp, now usable for a good coupla years.

steps in castles...

just a thought. On walking up the steps in the Alhambra alcazaba (fort) I noticed that the steps in the towers were at different depths. Not all, just the odd one. Now, I remember hearing that castle builders in Europe did this deliberately to put invaders off their guard (tripping as they ran up, whereas the castle soldiers would be used to them).

couldn't help thinking that this was the best line a dodgy builder had ever thrown for shoddy worksmanship.
"Oh, not the same depth you say? wellllll, that's deliberate innit? y'know, for the enemy like...."

speaking spanish (rather than walking it...)

I speak no Spanish. habla Ingles? mi no habla espanol.
I'm not proud of this fact. My trip is littered with verbal stumblings.
After asking(actually struggling to ask) for something I keep forgetting to say "por favor" so I make up for it with too many "gracias". I'm just concentrating on the nouns too much. Sod grammer, and politeness?? You think I'll remember that after going through the trauma of saying "thing" "thing" "thing" and hoping that the poor sod listening will make sense of three (un)related words?
"Please" just ends up blurted out afterwards confusing them even more, like I'm about to strangle their language again.

Spain

Ok I went to Spain for a bit and now I'm writing up the blog. If you want as-it-happened commentary, then tough. or fund me in my holidaying.

So Spain. Wonderful place, bit cold in December.

hm, guess this blog is gonna have to be a bit more than that to sustain interest...