Fig and Orange jam.. mmmmm!

Here in La Flecha, in La Casa de los Abuelos (grandparents' house), there is a fig tree, whose fruit is different from the purple, tougher-skinned varieties that I have eaten in England. These figs stay green when ripe and the skin is soft and thin. They are OK but not exciting to eat raw as they have only a mild flavour and a rather mushy texture - I may be doing them a diservice by this description but it's how they seem to me! And they obviously were not to the children's taste because after one or two, they didn't want any more.

They were willing, however, to take a basket each and go picking and collecting so that we could freeze the crop for future use - Ruy particularly insistent that the best ones were at the top of the tree, which required climbing and balancing skills. And we collected a good few kilos, washed them and put them in to freeze.

I combed the internet for good-sounding recipes and came up with one called 'Spicy Fig Orange Jam' which appealed though Cesar wasn't keen on the 'spicy' bit. So I adapted it and left out the spices, added lemon zest as well as orange and threw in a few chopped walnuts from the tree in the Leon garden. And followed the incredibly easy microwave recipe to create a culinary masterpiece! So far, I've made five jars - using the microwave means you do small batches of about 2 jars at a time - and now only two remain. Los abuelos ate a whole jar whilst we were in Granada, which is pretty good going.

I am very pleased with it - and can only ask you to believe me when I say it is absolutely delicious. I am just so sorry that I can't get any of it back to England for my parents and family, because although my sister is coming out soon, she's only bringing a cabin/flight case and it's not possible to take pots or jars onto the flight. Hmm, on second thoughts, perhaps it's better that the whole lot stays here with us!!

Granada? Or chips?

Granada! Without hesitation!

Our recent visit to the province of Granada has moved me deeply - as much for the lovely, happy, funny people we met there as the stunning and spectacular surroundings.

Why did we go to Granada..? I need to recap to see if there is any logic at all left in my life!

• Began planning for a move to Spain in March of this year
• Cesar visited Galicia, Asturias and Leon to check out locations and potential properties
• Almost moved immediately to a village in Leon called La Urz
• Having upped sticks in August with the intention of settling in Leon, northern Spain, we deposited all our belongings in a large barn belonging to FR's parents - so that we could get at them relatively easily once we had found our new home.
• We went to stay at FR's parent's house in Valladolid, some 120kms further south - somewhere to stay free of charge; place to plan from; a known environment for the children.

(so far so good)

• Looked around Leon for suitable properties and found we were not overly impressed at what was available, the prices being asked and the access to schools for the children
• Moved east to Las Montanas Palentinas - specifically Aguilar de Campoo - which I fell in love with and where Mateo would go to school in a beautiful romanic building that used to be a monastery.
• Spent many days and weekends back and forth in glorious sunshine, checking out properties with Andres and Ramon, our two friendly estate agents in the area.
• Saw every house available that we could afford to think about.
• Put in a bid on a house there that was nearly what we wanted and that we visited twice and really liked..but.. offer rejected and we were secretly relieved.

(Bear with me, this is quite cathartic)

•  Reach mid-September and suddenly the temperature drops - frisson runs down my spine and it's of displeasure and is rather unexpected - I thought I liked the idea of hot summers and cold winters, what with chocolate and knitting being my hobbies. Hmmm.
• FR immediately suggests we move to Alicante.
• The idea leaves me with more frissons, together with shudders of aversion - the snob in me rising to the surface - Alicante is full of expat Brits and I did not want to go there.
• Managed to discover that the schools there teach in Valencian - which is a dialect of Spanish and not Spanish like what it should be spoke. (Castillian). So there I had my excuse for not going to Alicante, plus the weather there is TOO good - like living in soup. No, I would not go to Alicante.
• Had to identify another, more southerly option.
• Malaga was out - we'd lived there 15 years ago and loved it but it's too hot in summer and too coastal and just too expensive.
• And then I remembered Granada!
• Swim in the morning and ski in the afternoon - the province of Granada stretches from the sea to the Sierra. We had visited the Alhambra twice when we lived in Malaga and been totally blown away by it and the drive through the Andalucian countryside on the way.
• So I started looking around Granada and liked what I saw.

But it wasn't just how fantastic the countryside was to look at, where every turn was even more breathtaking than the last...

But the sheer joy and fun that seemed to radiate from the people who live there was highly contagious. We had limped down the motorway with a ridiculous problem with the car - the radiator cap had developed a fault and about one third of the way down, when we stopped, water started bubbling out of the radiator. Refusing to be daunted on a Sunday before a bank holiday, we waited for the engine to cool and plodded on. However, FR stopped to check things after about half an hour and as he pulled the bonnet release, nothing happened and - despite huge efforts on all our parts - absolutely refused to open again. The cable had come off but at the bonnet catch end, not at the end in the car, so getting to it was impossible. (I'll get to my point soon). With another 400kms to go, but 250kms behind us, we decided to 'keep on swimming, just keep swimming' - which is my Doryesque response to all technical problems! And FR agreed. And we got there and had no more problems.

Monday was a 'bank holiday' in Spain - or a fiesta - and so everything was closed and we could do nothing about the car other than hope it would be OK. We had arranged to see a few houses with an English agent and we had to flag him to stop at one point as the fuel gauge suddenly started to go down in front of our eyes and we were sure that petrol must be pouring out along the road behind us. But it wasn't - it's the car, poor thing, that is going through a crisis as ...it has been written off by my insurance company and it's going to be taken from us.  So we reassured it and told it how wonderful it had been and all was well for the rest of the day. 

We didn't find a house we wanted but we met a wonderful baker who would have been our neighbour at one of the properties. He was 87 and called Marcelino - like the boy in the film 'Pan y Vino' - and positively twinkled. I couldn't understand a word he said to start with but when I told him this, he immediately dropped his Andalucian accent and spoke a lovely Spanish to me, saying he used to live in Vitoria in the north. We bought bread, madelenas and a wonderful apple tart from his daughter. who was now doing the baking and we inspected their wonderful, wood-burning bread oven and he told us we could come and bake things there .... FR thought of his beloved pizzas and for a moment, it was very tempting!

On Tuesday, we spent the morning with another estate agent, this time Irish, who most kindly took us to his own home to show what is possible to make out of a cave. I thought it was lovely as it was but he has plans to create an Irish bar in his lounge and has dug the space to put in a Roman bath in one of the cave rooms, along with a cinema area...a gregarious man, he was! 

In the evening, we decided we had to do something to sort the car out, so went into Baza, which is a town of medium size near where we were staying. Enquiring after a mechanic, we were directed to a small workshop, where a blond Spanish mechanic gamely bashed, poked, fiddled and pulled at the bonnet to no avail. So he told us to try the Citroen garage at the top of the hill. But all the time he was working, he was laughing and joking with FR and thoroughly enjoying the challenge. And when we got to the Citroen garage, we had three chaps of varying ages - at least, one looked very young and one looked very old - again, poking, pulling, inserting metal instruments and scratching their heads but without result. Then one started to jack the car up on one side and crawled underneath with a long hook thing... and with a pwang! the bonnet released!! Hurray!  He then checked the radiator cap, showed us the fault, brought us another one, fitted it ... all with a constant laughing and chatting and funny comments. We'd been there for almost half an hour and we were only asked to pay the 6 euros for the radiator cap! We left feeling we'd had a really good night out with friends!

And all the neighbours around the cave house have stopped to chat and tell us how they love the village and the caves and the food and each other... and look, a man with his donkeys!

And although they were not local, I can't not mention the lovely family (whose house we really, really wanted to buy but for a few reasons that I won't go into but that were deeply felt enough for us to decide against buying) - Gayil, Alan and Jamie - who were from Scotland! And living so happily with their donkeys and ponys in the middle of the Sierra de Baza and who weren't leaving the area but needed to live closer to amenities in the town because of their health.. gosh, they were very special people and I wish them all the very best. I hope they find buyers soon and I hope they won't mind me posting a very beautiful picture I took of their house looking at it's very best..

And Nick the 'unestatey' estate agent from the unlikely state of Idaho and on whom many of my hopes are now pinned and who is currently charged with finding us a rental place because we have to go back and we have to do it as soon as we can.. and I think he's found us somewhere but I'll tell you more when I am sure. Ah yes; Nick was lovely too and quietly so smug that he lived in this gorgeous corner of the world and so much more enthusiastic about the people than the properties, which was such a nice change from the other agents, who were only really trying to sell us a view or a pool or a sunny patio. 

And on the Sunday, we decided to look at Guadix - the other main town in the area - and it was yet another breath-taking sight (though we didn't meet any people there as we were on a drive-through visit on our way home). And all thoughts of ever living anywhere else just slipped from my mind.

Red sandstone buildings, with a backdrop of snowy mountains.

  Arabic castle remains and a huge network of cave houses - over 10,000 people live in the caves around Guadix.

Narrow cobbled streets and wide, fountained plazas.

Guadix is a stunning place and the sun shone on us all the time of our stay.

 

So that's how I changed from looking in northern to southern Spain in just three short months - sorry to anyone who was hoping to explore the area and stay with us to do it!!

Violet's Cave - Bacor Olivar

On our recent trip to the area of Granada, in southern Spain, we've been staying in Violet's cave, which has been absolutely wonderful - I am definitely a troglodyte at heart. Actually, it's not really called Violet's cave, though it belongs to Violet - and Roger, of course - it's called Cueva de Almendro and in a little village called Bacor Olivar near Baza, which is a spectacular area in eastern Granada heading out towards Almeria.


We spent six nights there for the astounding price of 150 euros - for all of us - and I have to tell you that I cannot recommend it highly enough. So this blog is a homage to Violet's cave.

This is the entrance to the cave house - Mateo took this, which is good because we forgot to take a photo of the outside, but it's a bit out of focus - we told him later how to get the camera to focus before taking the shot. He knows now.

This is our bedroom - note, there is no window (or door) so when the lights go out, it really is dark!

The intention was for the boys to share a room and Romy would have the little annex cave to herself. She had been asking for her own room for ages but when it came to bedtime, she didn't want to be alone.  Ruy pointed out to her that she'd slept on her own when she was a baby and she wasn't scared. Romy paused a while to think and then said, "yes, but I didn't know I was alone then"  - which I thought was a well-considered response and she was right. So she slept in with Mateo and Ruy had the little room to himself!
(And Ruy is blurred because he moves about so much! Nothing to do with the photographer..)



Two sitting rooms - one for us, with a log burning stove

And one for the kids, with games, tv and dvds.

And a cave kitchen so well-equipped with cutlery, crockery, pots, pans and towels that we could have stayed for a month and had dinner parties every night - I was most impressed with the sharp knives!
And a bottle of wine, milk and water in the fridge, coffee, tea, sugar and bread and loads of foodstuffs in the cupboard - all for 25 euros a night!





The other things to know about caves is the fact that they retain a lovely constant temperature, regardless of the weather outside - so even though the temperature can drop to well below freezing in the winters of Granada and up to 40 degrees in the summer, the cave stays around 18 degrees. There were a number of little 'cupboards' dug out into the cave walls, where extra blankets were kept (not that we needed them) and these were bone dry and fresh smelling. Having become accustomed to the constant sweeping of tiled floors that goes on in Spain, I was amazed to find that the cave simply didn't get dusty and after a week of us being there, all I swept up on the last day were the crumbs dropped that morning by the children having their breakfast. And no flies or mosquitos! The one barrier to us buying a cave to live in is that so few have any land with them. Otherwise, I am a convert 100% to this eco-friendly, practical and cosy way of living. (OK, Cesar coped for a week but deep down, I know he's terrified that it could collapse! So we won't be buying one for that reason too. It's irrational - caves are as safe as...houses!)

In addition to being in a lovely, friendly village, just take a look at the views of nearby Lake Negratin!

There - I hope I have done justice to this lovely place. If ever you want to visit, I really can recommend it but if anyone goes again before we have found somewhere to live in Granada, I will be green with envy!

Off to Granada

On Sunday, we're off to Granada to look at houses!! I am very excited. Booked to stay in a self-catering house for a week and have various properties that we're going to look at - some to the east of Granada and some to the west.
To the east, it seems that there are more expats, many who want to sell up and quickly (do they know something we don't?) and so there are some real bargains to be had.  To the west, most of the villages are typically Andalucian Spanish and although the houses are not nearly so nice or well kept, the prices are higher because very often, the sale is not really necessary. We discovered this in the north of Spain - houses tend to stay in the family until they become absolutely redundant - i.e. no one wants to maintain it, go there or live there but there is no necessity to sell immediately - or, it has been left as inheritance to a group of grown up siblings, who can't decide what they want to do with it or are arguing over it and so agree to sell for as much money as possible. Either way, the prices stay high and no one really wants to negotiate. One of my first questions to the estate agents is always, does the seller really want to sell - which seems obvious, but has resulted in some most unexpected answers!

There are a lot of cave houses in the area we are looking and it is in one of these that we are going to stay - I quite like the idea of living in a cave but thought perhaps the reality might be less appealing. If you are not the claustraphobic type, there's quite a lot going for caves. They are very economical - keeping a constant temperature of about 18 - 19 degrees, in both summer and winter; if your furniture doesn't fit or you need a shelf, you can just chisel away at the rock until you have what you need; you don't need to worry too much about mosquitoes, nosy neighbours or making a lot of noise! I'll tell you after whether there are any negatives to it.
Some of the properties have plenty land, which is what we were really hoping for but without paying for it in terms of being very isolated.

We have asked for time off so the children can come with us - it's important that they like the places too but I have set aside time everyday apart from house hunting so we can have a bit of fun and also for them to do some homework. It's bad enough that they have a lot of catching up to do, never mind dropping further behind; it's important they do a bit everyday.

So - we will see what happens next! Cross all fingers, toes, eyes, legs, arms etc. that we find what we are looking for.

Looking for trouble.

Romy and Ruy stay for lunch at school and eat a 3 course meal everyday. As parents, we are given a list of each day's menus. 'Comedor' (or dining room) as it is called is staffed by dinner ladies whose job it is is to train children from an early age to eat beans, lentils, vegetables, chickpeas and other things that parents sometimes find difficult to get their children to eat at home. I have heard parents anxiously asking whether their child had eaten their lunch that day and sometimes, it is clear that the poor thing has had no choice at all! These women are not to be argued with. On the whole, I approve of the attempt to widen or awaken their taste buds though at the same time, I feel a bit guilty that I allow my children to 'refuse' these things at home and that I have opted for the Comedor service, where I know the children are given many things they don't like. (I have to add that I make a delicious lentil soup and the children do eat vegetables every day!)

Guilt aside, on the whole, they do eat well at school and very often say how much they have enjoyed their lunch. Mateo has no such luxury and has to come home to eat - but at least he loves chickpeas!

Last night, as they were all getting ready for bed, Romy serenely announced "Tomorrow, I want to be 'castigado' at Comedor". Mateo looked at her and said, "I don't think you know what that means" and I agreed with him because 'castigado' means punished. However, Romy said she did know and that she really did want to be castigado tomorrow. When I asked why, she said she wanted to be castigado because tomorrow, 'alubias blancas' (white beans) were on the menu and she didn't like them.
Still puzzled, I asked why she would be castigado for not liking white beans and she said, "Because I am not going to eat them".

And that was that.

We shall see but I suspect she will not be the one to give in first.

Mateo is also struggling a little with his English teacher, who insists on telling him that he has got answers wrong in his tests - such as answering the question, "Have you got a dog" with the reply, "No, I don't have a dog".
I can see why "No, I haven't got a dog" might be slightly better but struggle to see why Mateo was marked incorrect for his first answer.
Also - and bear in mind the phrasing of the first question - he was told his answer "Yes, I have got a brother and a sister" was wrong in response to the question, "Do you have any brothers or sisters"....he was told he should not have used the word 'got'.
All this from a man who pronounces the word 'Thames' as it is written! I ask you!!! Fortunately, Mateo is rather amused by this though Cesar is most definitely not. We have a meeting next week with the school.

Ruy, on the other hand, came home very proudly yesterday with his latest maths test result which was the best of all the Year 4 students.
Without wanting to label my children in any way, I can't help but think about Myers-Briggs and note that Ruy takes in detail, facts and information in a very 'Sensory' manner which really helps in early school life compared to a child (like Mateo) who has a strong 'Intuitive' approach as to how he takes in information. To Ruy, if something is explained to him, he understands it, thinks about it, mentally sorts it and can then apply it appropriately and when required. To Mateo, I really do see that if he is given one bit of information, it triggers all sorts of other questions, ideas, images - it opens doors to other things, makes patterns, reminds him of something else - so that when he has to demonstrate his understanding, he can't relocate the original information or doesn't know where to start to apply it. I think in his previous school, there was more scope for this way of thinking but here in Spain, the 'S' preferences definitely seem to have an advantage.

Romy's preference lie somewhere in between the two boys, not absolutely clear yet - though of course, I do already know that her preference is NOT for white beans!

Home is...

It's been a family sort of week. It was very hard last Wednesday morning to walk to the bus stop with my children, kiss them as they got on the bus, wave as it pulled away, knowing that I was leaving later that morning to go to England for a week. I struggled not to drip a few tears on the path as I returned - having forgotten to take a tissue with me. I often forget how easily I cry - I should always carry tissues in good supply!
Mateo was still at home though as he was full of cold, coughing and spluttering and not sleeping during the night, so at least I had both him and Cesar to see me off to the station.

I almost didn't make the trip - as it happens, only because I was feeling bad about something that could have been a whole lot worse. On the Tuesday afternoon, I had gone with Ruy and Romy to the commercial centre about 5kms away and on the way home, we were involved in an accident that completely wrecked the rear passenger side door, including smashing the top part of the opened window. Very luckily, no one was hurt at all. It was a very stupid accident and if the other driver had been as aware as he should have been, it would not have happened at all, but he didn't see me and moved into my lane coming up to some traffic lights on a roundabout - it all happened very slowly and so the impact was minimal though the poor car looks awful. He only lost the cover of his external indicator and it was a large truck. Despite our relatively lucky escape, I felt dreadful leaving Cesar with a car that was in a mess, insurance claims and garage visits and no window on one side. However, I needed to return to England to check the house, take a few more things away that we'd left, see my family and sort some other things out, so off I went feeling a bit miserable.. especially as the only reading material I had was Jane Eyre in Spanish. I now know lots of new Spanish words for feeling miserable, hard-done by, maltreated, outraged, indignant and all the other things the poor girl felt in her early life. (I haven't got very far with it yet!)

I was one of the last onto the very full plane and ended up with a crowd of school children on their first flight on a trip to Scotland, who were SO excited that it was impossible not to be caught up in their enthusiasm for the take off - which I always love anyway. And by the time we landed, I knew most of them (or felt I did) and I do hope they had a lovely time in Edinburgh with John, their English teacher, as they were a delightful bunch.

Having SKYPE, Facebook and email meant that seeing my sister again was just a physical extension of the close relationship we've always enjoyed - we have spent hours on SKYPE in the last few months, with videocam, so it has hardly felt like I've been apart from her. We just picked up from where we'd left off the day before - fantastic!

I hadn't wanted to broadcast my return to England as I was staying at Judy's and would be without my own transport, so the few folks I did manage to see are due a huge thank you for accommodating me so unexpectedly - and sorry if I couldn't manage to see some others who also knew I was home. Next time! I did get to spend a day with my mum though, which was good and something I haven't been able to do for ages and ages for various reasons.

I had a fantastic flight back from Liverpool as the sky was clear almost from Wales onwards and I derive huge pleasure from looking at the earth below - explains why I think Google Earth is so amazing - and was able to pick out various places in Spain that I recognised - including flying right over Valladolid!! I kept thinking that if Cesar and the children looked up (it was about 3.15) they could have waved to me and I would have waved back! But they didn't know and by the time I'd found my phone to text, I was well on my way to Madrid.

I had bought, from ebay, the most..no the MOST.. enormous suitcase which I collected from Altrincham on the Sunday before I came back. I had quite a lot of additional things that I knew I would be bringing back but the case was even larger than I'd imagined. It came up to my armpit when I stood next to it. My brother-in-law brought back some precision scales from work so that I could ensure I didn't overfill it and incur excess baggage fees. I had to take all sorts out to stay under 20kg and the suitcase felt half-empty! So I had to put heavy, but small things into my hand luggage and all the bigger, lighter items into the case. In the end, I think the two were almost the same weight! And somehow, I managed to get the whole lot across Madrid and onto my train back to Valladolid without too much trouble - a fact I am quite proud of.

And oh what joy to get off the train and know my family would be waiting on the other side of the platform! It was just the homecoming I wanted, hoped for ... and got! Everyone talking at once, huggings, kissings, the sharing of important news, the questioning about presents, the holding up of the traffic as we tried to get the huge suitcase into the back of the car and then all of us inside - (and me trying not to look at the plastic sheet over the window)...it was all just lovely. Even coming back to the place we currently call home - which is a little removed from our aspirations for life in Spain - was pure pleasure.

Home is where the heart is - most definitely!!

Ouch!

These little piggies went to market..

Hope you are not of a sensitive disposition or upset at the sight of dead animals... because we went to Valladolid market the other day and saw lots of little piggies that went to market and didn't make it home again.

(Is it my imagination or do some of them look to be smiling?)

 Along with a few of their other farmyard friends.

Just the nose left of this poor cow

Little lamb feet

Skinned lamb

Sea food  - not so emotive?

Easier on the eye once processed to next stage..

Outside and around the market, there are some wonderful buildings - these are just a few of what we saw within a short walking distance.

 

Just so you know, we only bought bread and a radicchio from the market!!