Álora Here We Come...But Whó´s Been Sleeping In My Bed. Not Ricitos de Oro, That´s For Sure.

Álora Here We Come!...But Who's Been Sleeping in My Bed? It's Not Ricitos de Oro, That's for Sure.

 

Well, here we are, in Birmingham, waiting for the lights to change.

 

We're due to ship out to Santander next Wednesday. . I've printed off our vaccination certificates from the very friendly NHS App., Monty has an appointment for 11.05am at the vet's for his Animal Health Certificate and we've got a booking at a pet-friendly (10 euros) hotel in Aranjuez for Thursday night. What could go possibly go wrong? - a question which I return to every morning between 5.00am and 6.00am as I like awake in bed fretting and trying to plan for  every possible eventuality.

I was led to believe that we need an 'International Driving Permit' to travel in Europe. The UK government website says we don't need one for Spain. I also read in a usually unreliable newspaper that my GB sticker on the car will not do any more...it has to be a UK sticker because ´Great Britain´ doesn´t include Northern Ireland and it may upset the Ulster people. This is also not the case, although you can buy them on Amazon. Halfords don't stock them. 

At the moment the only snag appears to be the 'traffic light' classification of every country in the world that anybody might want to go to and then return to Great Britain from . At the moment Spain is an 'amber' country.  

If we want to come back from there, we shall have to be fully vaccinated, have taken an official Covid test before we leave Spain (£40), and show proof of a booking for another, more expensive 'PCR' Test' two days after we get back.

Later today the British Government will announce the 'revised' classifications. If Spain goes 'red' today it will make things more difficult for us, although a nice ten-day mini-break in a posh hotel on our return sounds quite attractive.

I'm not sure if they're 'pet friendly' or not. What would we do with little Monty?
 

Even as I write, some of the finest minds in Britain and Northern Ireland are huddled  are together  in a dimly lit room, deep in the entrails of Number 10 Downing Street. 

Doctors, epidemiologists, virologists, public health scholars, statisticians, mappers, game theorists, epistemiologists, sofologists and lots of other 'ologists' are sitting round a big table, weighing up all the evidence from all round the world.

In another room, also somewhere in Number 10 Downing Street, Boris Johnson (Prime Minister), Sajid Javid (Secretary of State for Health) and Gavin Williamson (Secretary of State for Education and Fireplaces and 'caller') sit round an eleborate machine which, to the untrained eye, may resemble a bingo machine. 

 
On a pre-determined signal from Boris, Sajid Javid will spin the balls, each representing a country, in their little round cage, take one out at random and place it in the 'classification tray'. Then Gavin Williamson will call out, for example,

' Australia ....RED!'

or 'Guatamala ....AMBER!

and so on.

 

                                 'Greenland...GREEN!'

Sometimes Gavin, who is known for his quick wit, will shout, 'AMBER PLUS!' or 'RED ENHANCED!' or 'FLASHING AMBER!' and a new category is created. What larks!

The whole process takes about 45 minutes, but everybody has to wait for the scientific and medical 'experts' to finish their discussion, coffee and biscuits. Then their recommendations will be officially accepted by Boris and his wife, duly noted and ignored. 

Obviously we are hoping that Spain will be 'green' but 'amber' will be all right, too.

Spain's infection rate is dropping very quickly and its vaccination programme has been phenomenal, overtaking Brexit Britain, so...

Some time later...............

Phew! Spain is staying on amber for the moment, which is good news for us but bad news for anyone flying out to or hoping to return from Montenegro and Thailand which have both gone 'red'. Bad luck, you lot.

Or is it? Mrs. Sanchez has just come back from swimming and a woman there at Fox Hollies Leisure Centre is cockahoop. She has a holiday booked in Montenegro which has been cancelled and Easyjet were not going to refund her for the missed flight unless it was on the red list. Result!

'No hay mal que por bien no venga' (Every cloud has a silver lining).

 Only four days to go now before we drive down to Plymouth to catch the boat to Santander. It's the first time we've travelled to Spain since Great Britain and Northern Ireland officially left the European Union on December 31st. 2020.

Our passports are up to date, with more than 6 months of validity.

We've calculated that our return date does not take us outside the permitted 90 days we are allowed stay in Spain.

GB plates..OK

Driving Licences...OK

Car Insurance Green Card...OK

No meat or dairy products in our sandwiches...

I mustn't forget to fill in the Spanish FCS 'locator form' (no more that 48 hours before we dock in Santander), obtain a 'QR' code on line, download it to my phone and hope for the best when we meet the friendly Guardia Civil Border guards at Santander. I´d better do one for Mrs. Sánchez, too.

and then we have to sort out Monty's paperwork.

                          Monty...'because I'm worth it'.
 

Since December 2020 Monty's British (EU) Pet Passport is invalid, so he has to have an 'Animal Health Certificate' instead, which has to be obtained no more than 10 days before we leave, will be valid for 4 months, and has to renewed and paid for, before every new trip. These certificates are available from 'your local vet'.

Most of the vets at our local practice are either Portuguese or Spanish. All but one of them has now left the UK. Mariana, from Porto, is the last remaining one, and the only vet left in the practice who is authorised to provide the AHC...and she is going back to Portugal for good in November. 

She spent 1 hour 15 minutes filling out the form, which runs to 12 sheets of A4 and has to be signed and stamped 34 times. She´s had to do eleven in the last month and is fed up.

 

                        Monty's Animal Health Certificate.

and it cost £250.00.

I got the local vet in Spain to give Monty a Spanish (EU) passport last year but I've not tried to use it yet. He's bound to have made a mistake on it somewhere but I'll give it a whirl on Wednesday. 

I have to admit that my knees went weak in the vet's when they gave me the bill. I almost , instinctively, gave 'The 'Barnsley War Cry', 'Ow much?!'

 

 A couple of days before, our neighbours Julie and Alan, in Álora, who keep an eye on our luxury town house there, rang to say that they think somebody is living in there.

The electricity has been turned on, there's beer and tomatoes in the fridge, a half eaten plate of albondigas (meatballs) in the kitchen, greasy plates in the sink, smelly socks and a dirty shirt in our bedroom and our bed. 'has been slept on' and our key won't open the door. 

Another (British) neighbour had been round a few days before and rang the doorbell. A small Spanish chap had opened the door and told her we weren't in but would be back on September 8th. Our friends, Celia and Stewart, went round the next day to do some gardening for us. No sign of Goldilocks, but the photos they WhatsApped to us confirmed the 'occupation'.

PANIC!

                       Isabel (on the right) and friends.

I rang our neighbour, Isabel, to see if she knew anything about it. Isabel is a delightful, friendly person who speaks a language which, even after 20 years, is incomprehensible to us, and quite possibly to anyone north of Álora. This is what I think she said,

'Oooh Juan! (that's me) how are you? How is the señora? (that's Mrs. S). and the family.  When are you coming back? It's very hot.'

'All well thanks. Is there someone in my house?'

'Ah ha ha ha ha! Yes it's Juan.' (not me this time, but the chap who we pay to water the garden. He's a bit simple and doesn't have a phone.). 'Oooh ha ha ha ha' (then a lot of stuff I couldn't make out).

''Is Juan in the house?'

(same as above')

I'm very worried. Has he got the key?'

'Ha ha ha ha ha. Don't worry ha ha ha'.

Isabel. I want to talk to Juan.

'Ha..etc.'

' I want to talk to Juan. Please go and ring the bell.'

I rang Julie and asked her to try a get hold of Juan (physically if neccessary) and get him to talk to me on her phone. By the time she got there Isabel was already ringing our doorbell.

'Juan. Why are you in my house?'

'Hola Juan, tocayo (namesake)  How are you? And the señora? And the family?'

'Juan. Why are you in my house?

'....brother....guard.....drugs....gipsies...money....Isabelita....water plantpots.... middle brother....mad.............'

'I want you to leave. I want you to leave now.'

Some minutes later he agreed to leave. 

'I'll go at seven o'clock, when I've had my dinner'

'OK'.

'Do you want me to water the macetas (plants) tomorrow?'

'Yes please.'

After he had left and given the key to Julie, she went round to make sure the lock worked and found that Juan had left the place 'spotless.'

Isabel now won't accept our key. I may have evicted a homeless person. My name will be mud now. I must be missing something.

I felt awful. 

He's back in there now on the understanding he leaves on Saturday (today). 

Watch this space.

Juanito Sanchez August 28th 2021

 

 

 

 

 

Álora la bien cercada. Tú que estás en par del río...

 Álora la bien cercada. Tú que estás en par del río.

 

  It's been a roller coaster ride since we left Álora at the crack of dawn on November 9th. last year. As we drove up through La Plaza de la Fuente Arriba, we gave a wave to Manolo at Cafe/Bar Madrugón and shouted 'Hasta lo antes posible!' We had no idea when we´d be coming back, but we left behind us a town where road blocks were already going up on the roads and roundabouts . For an undefined period nobody would be able to enter or leave 'without a valid reason'. The National 'State of Alarm' banned all but essential travel between cities, towns and villages. We were not even sure that we would be allowed to travel as far as Bilbao on the north coast of Spain to catch our ferry home to England. In fact, we were stopped twice by the Guardia Civil, who waved us on without a word when they spotted our British plates and bulging roof bag. They were only too happy to get rid of us. The second wave of Covid 19 was on the move in Spain.

 That was nearly 8 months ago and after a series of dashed hopes we are crossing our fingers and hoping we'll be  able to go back in four weeks. 'Ojala!'.

The last 8 months have seen travel restrictions imposed, withdrawn, changed and re-imposed on a regular basis. Sometimes we were able to leave England but could not enter Spain; sometimes vice-versa and sometimes we could neither leave England nor enter Spain. At least we knew where we were with that one.

The latest UK government 'traffic light system' keeps changing all the time too. Threre's 'amber plus' now and there's talk of an 'amber watch list'. They make it up as they go along. Meanwhile Spain's vaccination programme has progressed 'sobre ruedas'. Spain now has a higher percentage of its  population with both vaccinations than Britain, Germany and the USA. There is no 'anti-vaccination' movement in Spain at the moment- the Spanish seem only to happy to have the jab as soon as they are eligible.

We have a ferry booking for Santander on September 1st. Mrs. S.has told me, 'If that ferry sails, we're on it!' You can't say fairer than that...unless, of course you've lost all your front teeth.

 Mrs. Sánchez and I have not applied for 'residencia' in Spain, so our 3 month long stays are classed as 'holidays'. A combination of the Covid restrictions and the effects of Brexit have made it very difficult for us to visit Spain as we used to. I have joined a few expat Facebook groups, such as 'Brexpats in Spain', 'Non-resident homeowners in Spain' and '180 days in Spain' and quite a few people are talking about selling up.

It's not been easy to keep connected to Alora. We haven't been away for so long in over twenty years, except for last year, of course. Lack of of practice in speaking Spanish has been the biggest worry. 'Use it or lose it'...how true. I'll be a gibbering heap the first time I go up to the 'top square' in Álora.

I found a language sharing app on the internet called 'Tandem' which was very useful for a couple of months. You just give them your details - name, language spoken,the language you're learning and main interests and then people contact you by text, voice recording or even live video link. And it's free. 

Within days I was in regular contact with people in Colombia, Peru, Bolivia, Mallorca, The Dominican Republic and a Venzuelan in  Brussels. This site is really good! I was soon getting practice  with speaking, listening, reading and writing Spanish. I've learned a lot about South America too. Some of my new pals are very serious about teaching me Spanish.  After a few weeks I couldn't keep it up.  A baker in Pasto, near Medellín was calling me almost every night (Colombia is five hours behind England). It seems to have petered out a bit now. Colombia is having big political problems on top of their Covid problems.

I still get a lot of 'partner' requests, but these are mostly from young women who, I think, are really looking for a younger person. The first one of of these I replied to turned out to be a very emotional, argumentative and drunken woman. It took me a week or two to shake her off. Requests from potential female 'partners' have petered out now since I began my communications with 'Que traes puesto?'

So how can I keep connected to Álora and Spanish life?

Mrs. S and I text and sometimes call people we know who live in Álora, mostly Brits, which helps a lot unless it's a conversation with Juan, who has been  watering our garden since last November and has just bought a new Porsche with the proceeds. He speaks Perote, which is a bit like Spanish but very fast, growly and without any consonants.

I read the web page of the Ayuntamiento for local news (www.alora.es). It's nice know that the piscina de verano is open again. They've just had an inter-pueblo swimming gala in the recently remodeled pool.  

 

What a beautiful venue!

It's been very encouraging and heart-warming to learn about all the events that the town has been organising during the Covid Pandemic to keep everyone's spirits up, especially since the Semana Santa processions were cancelled for the second year. 

I expect that the summer Feria won't take place either. We hope to get back to Álora before the 9th.September, (the Day of the Virgin of the Flowers), the patron virgin of Álora. I doubt if the annual Romeria will take place, though.

I noticed that a sculptor had come to Álora last week to sculpt, in public, and to musical accompaniment a bust of the famous character in Álora's history, Don Diego de Ribera, El Adelantado.

 

 Here's the escultor onubense (the sculptor from Huelva), Martín Lagares (on the left) with David Gutierrez, the Perote pianist who played while Martín sculpted.

 

Martín was presented with a basket of 'local produce' for doing the work. I don't know where they're going to put Don Diego  but he´s likely to melt if they leave him out in the sun - and that local produce should be consumed ASAP, especially if it includes Álora's signature dish, sopas perotas. That stuff is dry enough when it's fresh, but in THAT heat!?

David Guitierrez is one of Álora's best. For many years he was a music teacher and leader of the Álora municipal orchestra, which was a youth orchestra. Mrs.S and I observed the development of the orchestra over many years and saw it become a really impressive ensemble. All thanks to David.

A few years ago David was persuaded to stand for the position of Alcalde (Mayor) of Álora on behalf of the Partido Popular (PP). It was a closely contested election but David lost. Tragically for him the rules meant that because he had stood for election he had to resign as music teacher and Leader of the Álora Orchestra. He took up a post in Ronda and these days he leads the band of the Hermandad de Jesus  Nazareno de las Torres in Álora.

 

Don Diego de Ribera 'El Adelantado' and the Romance of Alora.

If you go up Calle Ancha to the 'Castillo Arabe' you may notice a tiled plaque on the left of the gate, not the small one, the long one. It displays The Old Romance of Álora.

 Here's a translation by Michael Newton, author of 'Álora, Portrait of a Friendly Town' and other books about Álora.

( That may be a bit hard to read, especially the Spanish version. I took a copy of it to my Spanish teacher in Birmingham and she couldn't make head nor tail of it!)

This is the story of Don Diego de Ribera 'El Adelante'. It's called 'un bello romance' on the plaque but there is no 'boy meets girl' about this tale.

I once learned this by heart in order to impress the locals in Alora but the opportunity, strangely, never came up.

A 'romance' in this sense means a poem, story or song which is passed on, by word of mouth in the local languages and dialects. These 'ballads' were usually stories of great deeds and happenings which did not have a written form. They were recited or sung in public by trovadores and juglares (singer/songwriters and minstrels) who travelled around perfoming for beer money and cigarettes*. They may have done a bit of juggling too.

*When The Romance of Alora was written, in 1434, tobacco hadn't been invented because, as everyone knows, Cristobal Colón (aka Christopher Columbus) did not 'sail the ocean blue' until 1492.

'So I have to set fire to this and breathe in the smoke, right?'

 

 The story of El Adelantado was big news back in 1434 and in 1435 too, probably, as there were no newspapers in those days (first printing press introduced in 1476) and it would take these trovadores and juglares a fair old time to get round all the towns and villages.

 

In 1434, much of Andalucia was still under Muslim rule and had been for the last 723 years. The Christian armies from the north had tried many times to conquer Álora but couldn't break through the outer walls. ('la bien cercada') This time Don Diego 'the Governor' tried again with his army and powerful guns and managed to bash a big hole in the outer wall.

You can still see parts of the outer walls of the castle. In those days the people lived inside the outer wall but could go into the main castle enclosure in times of danger. Most of the stone from the outer walls were later used to build the houses down Calle Ancha and the other streets leading down from the castle.

Basically, El Adelantado blew a big hole in the wall and so all the inhabitants grabbed what they could from their houses - gold, clothes, flour, wheat, pies, raisins and figs and fled up the hill to the main castle.

 The Christians were just about to storm the castle when a Moorish lad up in the battlements with a loaded crossbow shouted out. 'We surrender. The castle is yours, Adelantado'. Don Diego was wearing his tin helmet at the time and a bit deaf, so he couldn't see where the shouting was coming from. He raised his visor, looked up, and the lad shot him through the eye. Foolish move. Good shot. Not fair.

Think Monty Python and the Holy Grail

That was the end of the seige and Don Diego was carried away to  the medical centre, but he only had time to make his will before he died.

It was another fifty years before Alora la Bien Cercada really did surrender, a long time in those days.

The rest, as they, say is as good as a change.

 

 Juanito Sanchez, Man in Alora,  August 2nd. 2021

 

The Pandemic? They Think It's All Over. Escape to the Casa in Alora - if you dare.

 The Pandemic?

They think it's all over..........

 It is. It's all over the world.

 

Yes, apart from a few Pacific Islands, Turkmanistan and North Korea, every other country in the world has been hit by the biggest pandemic since 1918, or since records began, whichever is the earliest. (and there's a stewards' enquiry into the last two places)....and it's by no means over yet.

Even so, on Monday,  Britain entered the next phase of  Brexit Boris Johnson's ROAD TO FREEDOM. 

 

When I peered through our bedroom curtains this morning, (May 15th.), you could almost believe it was 'all over bar 't shouting' as people used to say 'up north' in an accent which is now associated with 'red walls' and racism. 

New freedoms have been announced for which we are all truly thankful. I'm just not sure what they are and if it's now safe to go out and  enjoy ourselves ...or not. I know that all the pubs, bars and restaurants can now open their doors, but we've been told we have to very careful and use our 'common sense', which is just the opposite of why we used to go to pubs anyway, and probably still is, judging by yesterday's reports.

 

  Monday night at the 'The Pig on the Wall',

 Lower Gornall.

 

I remember that not very long ago were were told that Dominic Cummings was using his common sense when he legged it to Durham and that the people who died in the Grenfell Fire should have used their common sense and disobeyed the instructions to stay inside their flats, as their walls melted in the heat.

 

 

Let's face it, common sense isn't so common.

 

 

Voltaire, which wasn't his real name, lived in the 18th.century and was a highly respected writer and philosopher, so you'd think that more people would have spotted the absence of common sense in the world well before David Cameron's decision to hold a Brexit Referendum.

 

Perhaps if Voltaire had been English, rather than French, and gone to Eton, David Cameron, Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and now pimp for a dodgy bank, wouldn't have overestimated the distribution of common sense among the British electorate and not plunged good old Britain into the god-awful mess we're in now. Oh, but he DID go to Eton, didn't he.

(I'm assuming here that regular readers will have noticed that I am not fond of Brexit and will have already abandoned this venereal organ or don't mind the odd partisan peroration.)

Voltaire (not his real name) also said, 'Il faut cultiver notre jardin'. (we must cultivate our garden) and the British really went for that pithy bit of advice.

 

 

Mrs. Sanchez and I were hoping that we might get a chance to got to Álora to sort our garden out. 

You may remember, but there's no harm in reminding you, that our 'carmen' or patio garden, starred in a much-watched episode of Channel Four's popular game show, 'A Place in the Sun', (for which I have still not received a centimo despite numerous repeats this year and good reviews on Tripadvisor.)

Well, the garden's gone downhill a bit this year as we haven't been able to go to Álora. In fact it has been described as 'una selva (a jungle) by a well-meaning neighbour.

 

                 Our garden in Alora acouple of weeks ago.

We're paying a local chap, Juan, (no relation) to water the plants once a week, but so far we've not been able to persuade anyone to do a bit of pruning, despite promising them our undying gratitude and all the grapes they can eat.

Offers would be welcome.

 

Spain has banned all visits* for all but Spanish 'residents', which we are not. Meanwhile, The English government has invented a 'road map', with 'traffic lights' which are on amber at the moment, and may, or may not, mean that travel to Spain is banned, or not,  depending on which government bright spark gets onto a radio programme to 'clarify the position'. If you manage to talk your way onto a flight to Spain, you'll still have to have two expensive PCR tests and stay in for ten days when you get back. It's worth taking a chance. At the rate they're shifting the goalposts, not many Border controllers will have a clue anyway.

 

At the moment, we can only go to Spain if we have a very very important reason, like buying a house or being related to a politician. If you have pressing matters to sort  out on Acension Island, Brunei or Tristan da Cunha, you're in luck,  if you can find someone to take you there.

 

       Tristan da Cunha. Are they taking the piss or what?

It's all to do with Covid 19, of course...or is it?

 

A few weeks ago, our English neighbours (bona fide Spanish Residents) came to the UK for 4 weeks to attend a funeral and attend to some important business. On arrival here they had to quarantine themselves for ten days. The cost of the PCR Covid tests they had to have came to £875 !! 

 

That should put most people off - along with a £150,000 fine if you try to get past Border Control with a fake letter from your dying mother, or are not really related to a politician.

 

*As I wrote this tripe, Spain has announced that they are accepting visitors from the UK now, (with both vaccinations,?) with no restrictions.

A few minutes later the EU announced that  as the UK has a lot of cases of 'the variant which originated in India' ( as we now call the 'mutant' so that India doesn't get the blame) the UK  is not on their 'white list' so we can't travel to Europe at all, unless it's to Portugal or Greece. And just as I wrote that, Brexit Boris announced they we MUST NOT GO.

 

We went to Marks and Spencers yesterday.

 

Is it just me?

 

Heroes of Alora

Number 3.

                     Juan, El Gorrón ('the Scrounger.')

 

I heard a couple of weeks ago that Juan, of Calle Ancha, had died. I wrote about him on this very blog a couple of years ago. I noticed he wasn't around when we were in Álora last October. He lived with his sister. She told me he was in hospital.

Juan scrounged for a living which, for Juan, meant raising cash to buy enough beer to be pissed by about 1.00pm. Every day he set out from Calle Ancha very early, in search of his 'lunch money.'

During the morning he would appear in the top square with something to sell that he had 'collected' earlier in the day.

Here he is with a bunch of 'manzanilla' (chamomile) which he had picked earlier in the day. He would walk long distances to the places where he knew there were pickings. After a rainy spell he'd appears with a bucket of  caracoles (snails), other times he'd have wild espárrago (asparagus), or lemons or ........and end up at Café-Bar Madrugon. On slack days he'd cadge a few euros to pay for his beer. Later he would stagger back to Calle Ancha or fall down. 

Juan was part of the Plaza de la Fuente Arriba (Top Square)

scenery and 'todo un caso' (a real character).He was also good at finding lemons and oranges for us when they were not in season, even though they were a bit green.

At a time of high employment (now only a fond memory) a 'scrounger' was still regarded by the perotes (Aloraneans) as a valid career option. 

Until the big influx of foreign residents from about 2002, the campo (countryside) around Álora had very few fences. Goat tracks criss-crossed the hills and valleys and no-one minded a bit of 'scrumping' by 'scroungers' on their land.

I almost admired him. A disappearing piece of traditional Andalucían life, like spitting and donkeys.

Mrs. Sánchez and I came across him one day as we were driving back from  Pizarra. He had a sack of swag over his shoulder and was grateful for a lift back to Álora. He didn't actually say 'Thanks' or anything; his speech was incomprehensible at the best of times, which was quite fashionable in those days among the 'locals'.

I can't remember why Mrs. Sánchez was travelling in the back seat that day - I usually allow her in the front, but Juan jumped in beside her.

If I'd checked the mirror a few times I might have noticed the struggle that was going on on the back seat. Apparently Juan had taken a liking to Mrs.S. and fancied his chances. And he wasn't even pissed!  It gave my dear lady quite a shock, I can tell you, and she was more than a little bit put out. She told me that the unsuccessful sexual assault was 'very unpleasant'.

That was the last time we gave him a lift.

 

That's all for now. 

There's a story going round that Spain is gong to enforce an existing law that means that we will not be able to invite friends and relatives from the UK to stay with us in Álora because the UK is  a 'third country' .

That's what you get for hogging all the Astra-Zeneca and leaving the European Union!!

Juanito Sánchez May21st. 2021

 

 

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The Pain in Spain. It´s coming round again.

 

They're off! 

It's all happening here in Inglaterra. Just one day to go and I can get a  haircut, buy a pair of shoes and sit outside a pub watching the snow come down as I slurp pint of cold beer. 

It's April 11th. 2021 and snow is falling. Yesterday, Saturday, our central heating boiler packed up, just after we had opened all the windows so that Ash and Paul, the electricians, could work in Covid safety. 

No heating, no electricity and no 'Sounds of the Sixties', which was cancelled because The Duke of Edinburgh had died the day before and the BBC decided that the old codgers like me, who get up at 6.00am.on a freezing cold Saturday morning to listen to the music of our distant youth, should show some respect by listening to more appropriate music, which included such morale boosters as: 

The Theme From the Deer Hunter (John Williams),

Tears in Heaven and My Father's Eyes  (Eric Clapton)

 and Do You Know Where You're Going To? (Diana Ross).

A couple of surprises were:

 'I want to Know What Love Is', by Foreigner (he was never very keen on them), and 

Crazy (Patsy Cline).

The good news is that the Grand National horse race was won for the first time by a woman, Rachael Blackmore, or as some may have it, for the umpteenth time by a horse.

They didn't have a race last year because we were all 'locked down', pretty much as we are now The 'Boat Race' was cancelled too, but this year things are obviously looking up.

                  The Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race

The Grand National horse race and The Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race, which always seem to take place on the same day, are two great British sporting events, indeed institutions, which along with the English FA Cup Final have, from time immemorial, marked the end of the British winter. -  and we're glad they are all back on this year. 

The Boat Race had to be moved to the River Great Ouse at Ely because of Covid restrictions.

Apparently, so that the 8 rowers and the 'cox' (the chap who sits facing the wrong way with his hands in his pockets and  doesn't do any work  but still has the cheek to keep shouting at the rowers to Get a f***ing move on!) are at least two metres (6.56 ft.) apart, the boats have to be twice as long and are difficult to steer round the tight bends on the River Thames. The Great River Ouse is a lot straighter.

        The Boat Race Course on The River Thames.

These world famous events make one feel  proud to be British and they lift one's spirits as one looks forward to another glorious British summer of cricket, holidays by the sea, Wimbledon and salad for tea.

 

                                An English Summer

For Mrs. Sánchez and I, that's what being British is all about, even though we have foreign-sounding names and are often told to 'get back where you came from' when we arrive back in Blighty, tanned and relaxed, after our spring sojourn in Álora.

And now that we have left the European Union and 'taken back control', such important traditional events are all the more important to us in re-establishing our national identity, post BREXIT.

This year The Grand National was won by an Irish horse ridden by an Irish jockey.

The Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race was won by Cambridge with only three out of the eight rowers being British. The 'cox' was American. 

The four English Association Football Clubs which have reached the semi-finals of the FA Cup, Chelsea, Leicester City, Southampton and Manchester City are all owned by foreign nationals (China, Abu Dhabi, Russia, Thailand)

Three out of four of their trainers/managers are foreign nationals.

Out of sixty possible players only 15 are English.

Just saying.

 

 Mrs, Sánchez and I have had our second 'jab' of The Astra-Zeneca anti-Covid 19 vaccine so we're feeling very positive and looking forward to going out again tomorrow, if we can remember where the shops are and how to drive the car.

We were due to catch the boat from Portsmouth to Santander tomorrow, but we can't go unless we pretend that we want to rent out or sell our luxury Spanish villa or on  some other laughable pretext and which would not make any difference as Spain still won't let us in yet.

They can't stop little Monty because he has a Spanish European Pet Passport, but we'd miss him.

T

                            'Please don't make me go'.

 To be honest, I'd rather be here in England at the moment, even though it´s freezing cold. The EU, and particularly Spain, is making a spectacular cock-up of things Covid -related at the moment. Their vaccination programme has only just got off the ground, they are expecting a 'fourth wave of infections' and they can't agree about crucial issues like travel, mixing in public, face masks and whether or not they want the 'British' Astra -Zeneca vaccine or not.

Part of the problem is that the Comunidades (Autonomous Regions) of Spain - Andalucia, Madrid, Murcia, Castilla-La Mancha etc. are allowed to make many of their own decisions about curfews, opening of 'hostelería' (bars, hotels and restaurants), restriction of travel between their own provinces, towns and villages and movement between one Comunidad and adjacent ones. Also, under EU rules, movement between member states is allowed.

Spanish Comunidades (Autonomous Regions)

 

This has resulted in some bizarre, conflicting rules, particularly when the Madrid Comunidad is involved. They have insisted on acting against government guidelines all through the pandemic and have one of the highest death rates in Spain, which they now  blame on the national government.

At the moment, you are allowed to leave the Madrid region but not to enter another one. You can take a plane from Madrid Airport to France, but can not travel 20 km.(12.4 miles) to visit your family in neighbouring Castilla-León.

 

                          Spanish Provincias (Provinces)

In effect, Spaniards can not move around Spain, but can move in and out of it. Also, people from any EU country can fly to Spain and travel around Spain. This has made lots of Spanish people very angry, particlarly during the Semana Santa (Easter) holiday period when many Spanish people go back to their home towns and villages for Easter and many Madrileños like to head for the beaches on the Costa Del Sol.

So... Madrid has become the party centre of Europe, particularly for young French binge-drinkers whooping it up when the locals are hell bent on getting out. Germans have been fleeing from areas in their own country with rising Covid numbers to areas like Mallorca where there is a low incidence of Covid. (at the moment).

The wearing of facemasks is causing the latest hoo-ha. The rules are as labyrinthine as the Laws of English Cricket or ´the offside rule´

You don't need to wear a mask during exercise, including swimming in the sea or in swimming pools, nor during 'rest periods', but for rivers and beaches you have to remain 'in a specific place' and keep 1.5 metres away from non-household members. You must wear a mask when you're walking to a beach or  river bank or a lakeside and in changing rooms.

You must wear a mask inside or outside a bar 'except for the moments necessary for drinking and eating'.

 

Originally, Sanidad (the Health Ministry) had said that you must wear a mask even when walking outside in the country or up a mountain, which was both unreasonable and difficult to enforce - criteria that have never been an issue in English, Welsh, Scottish and Northern Irish rules. Yes, we have our own Comunidades here, and they make their own rules too.

Of course, in Spain, you still have to wear a mask in enclosed areas and in busy public places.

'While masks should be obligatory in enclosed spaces, it is not necessary for everyone to wear one. 'What's important is that people who are infected wear one - although we don't know who is infected and who isn't.'   

Fernando Simon, head of Spain's co-ordination centre for health emergencies and alerts.

I do hope that nobody is depending on this blog for up-to-date information on wearing facemasks.

Spain is facing a fourth wave of the coronavirus which has already infected 3,326,736 people and claimed 76,037 lives.

Pie News

On a lighter, but high calorie note, I have news from Pieland.

Last week Mrs. Sánchez suggested that, as we are allowed, under the new rules to go futher than 5 miles from home, she would like to visit her sister who is currently residing in a care home in Shaw, near Oldham, Greater Manchester,

 It would have to be 'window visit' using mobile phones to communicate through a closed window. The idea appealed to me, even though it meant driving 200 miles for a half hour visit and taking two dogs with us. Of course it was worth the trip! They hadn't seen each other for over a year. How could I object to such a 'mercy mission'?

I had received a tip-off from a usually unreliable scource that the Shaw branch of Asda stocked Holland's Pies.  

                        A happy Holland´s Haficionado

So off we went, equipped with a pre-primed cool box to transport the frozen pies back to Brum.

This was the first time we had driven any distance in England during Easter in 20 years. We are usually in Álora at this time of the year, and in April last year we were under house arrest in Birmingham. Can you believe it? Asda was closed! All the shops were closed. There was not a pie to be had in the whole town, not even for ready cash.

I sometimes think they go a bit over the top in Álora during Semana Santa (Easter), and I admit it was Easter Sunday, but surely this is taking Christianity a bit too seriously.  No pies!!?

Mrs. Sánchez and her sister had a nice chat, but the day was a  soured by the failure of my unsuccessful piegrimage.

On Tuesday I rang the Holland's Pie factory in Baxenden, deep in the beautiful and relatively unknown, Lancashire Dales, and asked  where I might find a Holland's pie in the Midlands. I'd already tried Asda and Iceland. I got through to Mrs. Wainthropp, Head of Pie Location, UK Division.

          Mrs, Wainthropp. Head of Pie Location, Holland's

'If it's a meat pie you're after you may be out of luck as they are rather regional.' said Mrs. Wainthropp,

 So much for globalisation.

And yet, after a couple of minutes of pie perusal, she came up with Farm Foods in Acocks Green, just ten minutes drive away. 'They had an order from us two weeks ago. 24 steak and kidney pies, two dozen steak puddings and 25 meat pies.'

I rushed round there and bought the lot.

Best Wishes

Juanito Sánchez April 12th. 2021.