Here’s something you don’t expect to see in stuffy old Europe. Lackadaisical Thailand perhaps, corrupt India almost certainly, but modern Spain, member of the EU, spender of the Euro? I don’t think so! Whassat you say? Well this morning I popped out to get a cup of tea – badly in need after a night up with the baby. In the cafe there were only two or three tables, one of them occupied by two local policemen, in uniform and obviously on duty. Both were smoking fags and both had a bottle of beer! This was 11:45 AM, people, and the cops are drinking BEER on the beat! But you know what happens next don’t you? Guess…go on, guess. Yep, they finish up, put on their sunglasses and get on their motorcycles to patrol the streets!! So I go back to work exclaming my surprise and you know what the receptionist says? “Oh yeah, they’re there every day”. Jeezus and I avoid the cops cos they’re unpredictable…but under the influence? Hmmm…
Spanish cops my oh my
July 23, 2008 at 12:57 pm (costa blanca, humour, my two cents, spain)
Tags: beer, cops, life, spain
A glamorous life in showbiz
April 25, 2008 at 7:59 am (humour, my two cents)
Tags: amy winehouse, drink, drugs, london, showbiz
This photo of Amy Winehouse and the guitarist from Babyshambles should be enough to convince any wavering teenager than studying physics is a waaaay better choice than picking up the old electric axe. Sheesh! 
Nearly three weeks without a drink
April 11, 2008 at 7:42 pm (costa blanca, expats, humour, spain)
Tags: drink, herpes, wagon
I’m on the wagon. No, I’m not an alcoholic and I don’t need to join AA. I have the unfortunate honour of nose herpes. Yep, practically every month I get a big herpes sore on my nose. It’s ugly, it scars my poor nose, it hurts, I’m afraid of giving it to my partner or daughter and it just generally SUCKS. Living in sunny Spain doesn’t help as exposure to sunlight can trigger herpes outbreaks. Let’s just say that the old SPF50 is in daily use, as is a sunhat. But, I have to acknowledge that drinking alcohol is another strong trigger for the virus to proliferate. Not to mention that vasodilation makes my poor nose ever redder (not a good look, let me tell you). So, I’m off the sauce. I miss it at suppertime, but otherwise it’s not a problem. In fact, I always lose weight when I stop drinking – like right away and enough to have people saying ‘hey you’ve lost weight’. So, it’s bye-bye booze. Let’s see how long I can hold out. Guess that means I won’t be joining the DPT (disturbing purple tan) brigade out on the terazas by the beach!
Long-haired guests
April 9, 2008 at 9:13 am (costa blanca, humour, spain)
Tags: alopecia, guests, hair, spain
I’m anglo-saxon through and through. I’ve got short, fine, straight fair hair. I don’t think that I lose much hair because when I clean my floors, I don’t seem to come across much. Now, I live in Spain and am lucky enough to have good friends who come to visit regularly. Which is great but more than half have long, dark, curly hair. And I love ‘em but the reminders of their visits turn up on my broom for weeks afterwards. There’s something about hairs that bugs me deeply. I reckon it springs from my sister’s struggle with alopecia. At the age of fourteen, she lost all her hair and we, of course, found most of it around the house. Her hair’s never grown back, btw.
Blankness, dribble, books
April 8, 2008 at 9:50 pm (babies, humour)
Tags: babies, blankness, books, humor
I spend so much time throughout the day ruminating and then I come to write it down and it’s evaporated. Poof! Like that. My mind is a blank canvas…I have no thoughts.
No, wait, it’s coming to me…Oh no, lost it again. Well, ho hum. Today I listened to some lovely Senegalese children’s songs while taking care of two snotty babies. I can’t believe how I can totally tolerate all the random fluids from my daughter but how I get super grossed out when a baby who’s not mine wipes her nose on my shoulder. It’s like – ewww! get your snot off my shirt!
I’m reading a book by John LeCarre. The Honourable Schoolboy. It’s about spies and journalists and Hong Kong. It’s amazing how many books are written about writers. Or maybe I’ve just read an improbable string of commonly themed books over the past year. The World According to Garp by John Irving- a book about a writer. La Loca de la Casa by Rosa Montero – a book about an author. Therapy by David Lodge – a book about a TV scriptwriter. The Bridge Across Forever by Richard Bach (a book about himelf, a writer, writing a book). All randomly chosen/found/the only English book available and all dealing with writers or writing. What have I read that’s not about writing? The Far Pavilions by MM Kaye (Indian and the Raj), The Rains Came by Louis Bromfield (India and racism), Moon Palace by Paul Auster (New York, madness, youth). The Golden Spruce by John Vaillant (Canada, logging, madness) I haven’t had time to do a book report on any of them, but I’ll maybe get round to it someday. Not.
Blog posts from the past
April 6, 2008 at 8:39 am (costa blanca, humour, love)
Tags: blog, dog poo, family, history, music, politics
You may be interested to read some of my earlier musings. In a bid to organise myself thematically (and keep my more unprintable/unpalatable sentiments away from my professional homepage!) I’ve cleared the detritus of my old blog away and posted it here from digital posterity. Have fun.
Smoky bars and tinned music
April 6, 2008 at 6:34 am (costa blanca, humour, spain)
Tags: Altea, costa blanca, humor, music, spain
Popped out to La Morena on Friday night to listen to a ’soul and funk’ concert. In reality it was a guy with an admitedly very nice voice singing along to his mp3 backing tracks. Uh, I think that’s called karaoke. It’s so weird here how so many performers only do cover songs and even then just play along with a backing track. Weird and cheesy and canned. Who goes out to listen to canned music when you can jsut turn on the radio/iTunes/CD in your home? Folks! Give me some originals please! That’s what creativity is about. Oh, yes, forgot…it’s all about recycling now. Kylie on the front cover of the MusicStore catalogue doinng her best Marilyn Monroe impression, Lyndsey Lohan chanelling same in photos last month…isn’t creativity about pushnig boundaries? Or is re-interpretation and imitation a sincere form of art? I guess it is, if you have more drive than innate talent.
Of course, the bar war terribly smoky, like all bars in Spain. The gross thing about smoke is that it’s not even the good part of the cigarette. Everyone is waltzing around in the residue of the tobacco smoke…kind of like the difference between a poo and the meal that made it. Thanks for the exhale, buddy, now I can swim around in your s**t. And I say this as a former smoker, certainly not always considerate in my time
And Uruguayans are the Kiwis of Spain
April 4, 2008 at 10:14 pm (Argentinians, australians, expats, humour, spain)
Tags: argentina, Aussies, Kiwis, spain, Uruguay
Following on from earlier, if Argentinians are the Aussies of Spain, then Uruguayans are the Kiwis: a small country dwarfed by it’s huge neighbour, friendly to one another but aware of their differences, almost the same accent with a few twangs. Only there isn’t a sea separating them…
Love handles
April 4, 2008 at 7:17 pm (Italians, humour, love)
Tags: Italian, love handles, maiden, mother
Among the many advantages of having an Italian partner is the fact that he can speak to you in Italian while making love. Since having my baby, I now have “manigli de amore”, otherwise known as love handles. And you know what? I don’t care! Sure they stick out over my jeans and sometimes my t-shirt rides up over them with annoying frequency. But I am a mother! This is the transition from maiden to mother – it’s physical, spiritual and mental…and total. So bring on gli manigli de amore!
Are Argentinians the Australians of Spain?
April 4, 2008 at 6:18 pm (Argentinians, australians, costa blanca, expats, humour, spain)
Tags: argentina, Australia, expats
When I lived in London, I ended up hanging out with way more Aussies than Brits. It’s just the way it is: you live there 5 years or more and suddenly the mix changes, you get to know a few Londoners. But at first it’s Antipodeans all-round.
Here in Altea, there is a closed mindedness on the part of the Alteanos that all but shuts out anybody from elsewhere. Nevermind that they resolutely speak Valenciano when even the most switched-on expat struggles with Castellano (I’ve never seen a Valenciano course on offer in a London college…let me know if you ever come across one). But I digress. More than anything, it’s the fact that nearly three years after moving here, I know exactly ONE Alteano who’s family is also from here. By know I mean, am almost friends with. Almost.
The vast majority of my friends are Argentinians: Jorge, Vicky, Maria-Delia, Nacho, David, Flor, Nelly, Daniel, Atilio, Fabiola, Sophia, Cristian….the list goes on. It got me thinking: are Argentinians the Australians of Spain?
