Things I don´t like about living in Spain, part VII

A trip into Oviedo last week failed to bring me any results in my quest for a bra. This was my last hope. The Corte Inglés (a Spanish chain of large, slightly upmarket department stores) had to have a suitable one, or so I thought, but I was foiled for the nth time and now I give in.

Finding a bra in Spain that´s bigger than a C-cup and that isn´t obviously made for the older women in that detestable skin-coloured fabric - you know the type, they look like some kind of industrial hoist - is impossible. What do well-endowed young women do here? It beats me, and I´m too embarassed to go up to one in the street and ask. It´s back to good old M&S this time. Unfortunately they don´t ship abroad, but thankfully I have a mother who does.

By Popular Demand...

...sort of. OK, that's a lie - I don't have the readership for popular demand. Enjoy anyway, and excuse the mud stockings.

Here's your more stereotypical Spanish cow:

And, seen on the same walk, an alternative for those of you who don't do bovine.

Yet another sunset (but still no cows)

One of those rare days

Today has been good. Very good. One of those days where everything is right and everyone and everything is in a fine mood. I enjoyed every little detail.



The lawn carpeted with daisies

Mahou adventuring



Beeps exploring the chapel roof



The first of the neighbour's lambs

Another neighbour's horse looking for attention



Even the clothes flapping chirpily in the breeze as puffs of cloud moved across the sky in formation behind them.

As for myself, after a session cutting wood and trimming the grass around the new bushes, I decided that was that and retired, book in hand, to my hammock.

Mixed skies

It's the time of year the weather often does this, or worse.



Although it's not always that bleak.


Blue skies in February. Normally, by this time of year everything is convered in snow. The neighbour's mimosa adds a welcome dash of colour whatever. As does the minature version on this side of the fence.



Vegetable planting has been started. In December a packet of chilli seeds arrived in the post, sent by a friend in the UK. Each of five friends has a packet and we're going to see who can grow the best chillies.



According to the bumf that came with the packet, you're not supposed to plant them until February. I cheated and sowed them about four weeks ago. They're currently in a propagator on a sunny window ledge, looking very happy.

And this is what I should hopefully have come summer.



The variety is called Twilight, I'm very enamoured with the colours, especially the purple. Almost too good to eat.

Things I don't like about living in Spain, part VI; things that make me happy about living in Spain, part VI

When I lived in Cardiff my main mode of transport was my beloved bike. I used to look forward to cycling into uni in the morning (ahem, afternoon), zipping in and out of the traffic and making my way down the cycle lanes to the front of the queue at the lights, cheekily stopping right in front of the car waiting there. There's nothing quite like the satisfaction you obtain from getting around under your own steam, knowing that you're getting excercise and not polluting the environment - unless it's by swearing at the stupid pedestrian who thought they could cross the road right in front of you, or walk in your cycle lane, or the moronic commuter who impatiently swings round in front of you from behind before taking a left-hand (for anyone not in the UK/Australia read right-hand) turn causing you to slam on your breaks and curse as foully as you know how at the top of your voice. Despite the idiots on the road, cycling the Welsh capital and the sense of independence it gave me was always one of my favourite things about living there.

Those that know where I live will proabably have guessed what's coming next. What I really don't enjoy about where I live in Spain, exactly where I live, is that it's like this:

View from our terrace with El Entrego at the bottom of the valley.

This is all very well to look at, and I love it most of the time, however, cycling most places around here involves hills - big, steep, imposing hills, oh yes, and don't let's forget the mountains.

I am nowhere near fit enough as I need to be to use my bike as a serious method of transport to get about in these parts. I once tried cycling back from work and only made it through the town and most of the way up the first hill - which to be fair is the steepest one of the whole route back - before I realised I couldn't breathe properly and had to start walking. I greatly miss not being able to hop on my bike and take myself the wherever I wish to be.




Every so often, it happens that Matt needs the car when I have to be at work. As long as it's not raining, this is something that always perks me up. Out comes the bike from the shed, greeted like a long-lost friend and down the hill I go to work. I adore cycling into town, the feeling of freedom it gives you to wheel your way down the hill, wind in hair and mountains on the horizon is unbeatable. I often like to play chicken with my sense of self-preservation and see how much speed I can build up down an certain stretch before I put the brakes on.

When I cycle into work I always arrive feeling revitalised and ready for the day's challenges. If I didn't have to rely on a lift home afterwards I'd do it every day.

Enjoying the learning curve, part III

Earlier this week my boss was talking about a new TV channel here in Spain for learning English. Settling down to an advanced-level episode, it kept her up way beyond bedtime and then had her clamouring for explanations from me the following morning.

The point of the little tale above is that one of the words the programme wanted watchers to translate was galimatías, a new word for me and I do like the way it runs off the tongue. Even better, translated it means gibberish, which Cris liked the sound of just as much as I did the Spanish version.

A wonderful coincidence yesterday in class with some adult students had one of them asking me how they could say galimatías in English. I confidently gave him his answer, knowledgable teacher that I am, but failed to metion that I´d only just learnt it myself. I do have the image to think of, after all.

So, enjoy your new Spanish word. I shall mention no names, but I´m sure some of you will find it very useful indeed.