Spring is here again, help for Japan, rest in peace George K, a trip to Santa Pola, Norah on Facebook, war with Libya, a super full moon, and more.

Me on our lovely natural beach called Carabasi near our flat in Santa Pola

Hello again,

I’m a day late with my blog this week which is because we went to Santa Pola for the weekend, but more about that later. Here I am writing then on Monday but it’s not just any Monday, it’s the first day of spring. I noticed today coming back from my walk that we had an excellent sign of it in the garden in these two lonelydaffodils, that glorious flower about which William Wordsworth wrote his famous poem called by the same name, Daffodils. I can only ever remember the first line: “I wandered lonely as a cloud” but the rest is easy to find out these days with internet as you can read in the link here.

Our two lone daffodils I spotted in our garden today coinciding with the beginning of  Spring

In fact with spring in mind Eladio had the gardener, Guillermo, lay fertilizer on the grass which took his South American workers some two days to accomplish. This is what the lawn looked like afterwards. Norah enjoyed the smells enormously and got her paws suitably dirty the whole time too of course.

Our garden layed with fertilizer this last week

I hope you all had a good week. I certainly did. On the work front, I’m in the middle of a well deserved lull at the moment. However, believe it or not the tragedy ensuing from the earthquake and tsunami in Japan actually affected my work. People and organisations all over the world are collaborating or trying to help the nation which is now threatened by an even worse fate, a nuclear disaster which thankfully is now under control. And Yoigo wasn’t going to miss out as we collaborate with the Red Cross locally. So we rallied together to have an text number available for people to donate funds, at 1,20 euros per sms. If you live in Spain and have a number either with Yoigo or our competition you can help too by sending a text with the text JAPON to 28077.

We collaborated with the local Red Cross to help people in Japan by setting up a text number for donations

On Tuesday I had rather sad news from my Mother’s ex colleague, Richard D. He told of the passing away of George Konzevich who had died after a fall the previous Friday. He was my Mother’s ex colleague at Leeds University, Valya’s husband and was aged over 90. I trust he had a good life but I do know the beginnings were not good for him nor Valya, both of whom were Russian refugees who came to England after the Second World War. Richard wrote this in his email: “George Konzevich died on Friday of heart failure after falling awkwardly and being helped up with difficulty and after a delay. Valya was distraught of course, but organising the funeral (next Tuesday morning) and dealing with the authorities has occupied and distracted her for the time being. Very sad indeed”. I was rather upset as was my Father, of course and immediately rang Valya to give her our condolences. I have also sent a wreath via Interflora which I hope reaches them on time for the funeral tomorrow. I have written about George and Valya before when we visited them on our trip to Yorkshire in the summer of 2009. Here is a photo of that happy moment. Rest in peace George, you will be sorely missed, especially by your loving wife Valya.

A happy moment with George and Valya Konzevitch in the summer of 2009.  Sadly George (on the left in a blue shirt and white tie) passed away last week.  Rest in peace dear George.

On Thursday I went into Madrid to supervise the final details of the shortened version of the Yoigo film. So there I was again at Iralta films with Angel and Bea and Ramón and Mariana, the team who made the film. I thought I ought to capture the team on camera as our work comes to an end. Thanks guys you have done a great job. Ah but it’s not yet finished, we still have to make some changes, introduce new music we won’t have to pay enormous rights for and of course translate the shortened text into English for the subtitles. When it is I promise to publish it on You Tube and then you can all give me your opinion.

The team who made the film about Yoigo at Iralta Films this week.

Thursday wasn’t all work though as in the evening Eladio and I visited that wonderful Swedish furniture and home accessory store, Ikea. We went to get new duvets to take to Santa Pola but of course bought many other things as you can see from this picture of our car boot. I never go to Ikea without buying some of the Swedish delicacies such as meatballs, lingonberry and cloudberry jam, smoked salmon and of course their wonderful frozen cakes.

Our car boot loaded with goods from Ikea last week.

The week had been cold and wet but the forecast for the weekend was great so Eladio and I decided, on the spur of the moment, to go to Santa Pola to stay at our flat for the weekend. Santa Pola is near Alicante and is on the Costa Blanca coast, some 450km from here. Not only did we want to take advantage of the weather, we also wanted to check the flat was ok as we hadn’t been since last August. When we first bought the flat in 1999 we used to go really often but now it’s more of an investment and we go quite rarely. Even so I was looking forward to going and decided to take Friday off and thus avoid the traffic.

We are creatures of habit and thus stopped for lunch as we always do at the Parador in Albacete, some 150km from Santa Pola.

Me having lunch at the Parador in Albacete on Friday on our way to the beach

The weekend was to be somewhat gastronomic but also all about walking on the beach, reading and generally relaxing. As soon as we had settled in we headed for the beach, a lovely unspoilt natural beach with no horrible high rise buildings, just dunes and cliffs and a view of the bay of Alicante.  The weather was nice and sunny but there was always a nip the air and we were glad at night of the duvets we had bought at Ikea which turned out to be splendid; warm, light and very comfortable.

We enjoyed walks on our beach this weekend

After our walk it was nearly time for dinner and again, creatures of habit, we went to our favourite local place called María Picola on the road between Santa Pola and Elche. Here we were welcomed by the familiar waiters and served what we always order; a salad and a wonderful dish of local rice called Arroz a banda which is much better than paella, I can tell you.

Eladio at María Picola, our favourite restaurant in the area, on the road from Santa Pola to Elche

Saturday was spent reading the papers, sitting on the sunny terrace and reading our books and of course walking.

A view of the inside of our sunny little flat in Santa Pola

We had to walk a lot to work off all the delicious food we kept eating. Lunch on Saturday was just one option for us, fish and chips at Darby’s Chippy down the road from our apartment. I have written about this place before and I can only say it as good as the best fish and chip establishments back in the UK. The jolly Scottish owner welcomed us and asked how my leg was. I only realised later that he could only have known about it by reading my blog as when we were last there in August I wrote about my bad leg in the same post as our meal at his chip shop. So Mr. Darby if you are reading this post thanks for a great portion of fish and chips on Saturday. We will be back of course next time.

Me about to enjoy a wonderful portion of Darby's Chippy fish and chips.  I have to admit I couldn't finish it!

Or course after that wonderful British food we had to have an equally wonderful Spanish siesta to sleep it off. Later we went for yet another long walk, this time on the Santa Pola promenade where I bought a Russian newspaper for my Father. He knew you could get them there so the best option seemed to be Pravda, recommended to me by the Bulgarian shop assistant. I’m glad she did as I nearly picked up a Bulgarian newspaper, unknowingly instead of a Russian one! In the evening we decided to try out a restaurant across the road from the apartment but there wasn’t much to choose from, a Scandinavian place or a Chinese restaurant. We decided on the latter called “Cocina Asiatica” and were very pleasantly surprised by the quality but also by the wonderful service of the young Chinese girl serving us who seemed to speak both perfect English and Spanish, besides her native Mandarin or Cantonese or whatever because I couldn’t possibly know which was her native tongue. Later Eladio was to watch the Spanish derby football match between Atlético de Madrid and Real Madrid. I was not particularly interested but happy that the latter won 2-0.

Our time at the flat would not have been complete without several visits to the small English supermarket, Quicksave where I stocked up on lots of important British produce to take home. I got chocolates, including Turkish delight, for my Father, hot cross buns for us all for Easter, jelly babies for the girls, fudge and Cadbury cream eggs for Suzy, bacon and Lincolnshire sausages for my Father and most important of all decent birthday cards for the up and coming birthdays in our household. It is not easy to get English produce in Spain so when I am in Santa Pola I make numerous visits to good old Quicksave.

Quicksave, the British supermarket across the way from our flat in Gran Alacant, Santa Pola.

On Sunday we were up early as we are most mornings and decided to leave after breakfast but of course had to clean the flat before going which is always a bore. We were in the car by 11 and home in the early afternoon after stopping for lunch at very good roadside cafe and restaurant called La Sima some 150km from Madrid, if rather expensive.  You can see the rest of the photos of our visit here.

La Sima, where we stopped for lunch on Sunday on our way home from Santa Pola, very good but expensive.

Whilst we were having a mundane but enjoyable weekend in Santa Pola, the girls were partying it up at home as they usually do when we are away. Norah had a great time as the girls and their friends spent a lot of time outdoors working on a tan. Norah by the way now has a fan page on Facebook where you can “like” her. At the moment she only has 10 fans, so do please add yourselves and increase the numbers of her “fan club”.

Norah had a great time with the girls and their friends whilst we were away.  This is her with no table manners at one of their meals, haha.

And while we were all enjoying the weekend, violence continued in the Middle East. Libya, the next country after Tunisia and Egypt and others in the region to be in a state of revolt has turned out to be a much more difficult country for its dictator leader to be overthrown. That is because we are talking about the famous mad dictator Colonel Gaddafi, a terror to his country and the world. The rebels who have been fighting his forces in the last few weeks were in great need of international support if they were not to be totally overthrown and help came this weekend when the United Nations gave the green light for the USA, France, the UK and other countries to carry out air attacks in the hope of finally overthrowing Gaddafi. We are in the throes of war with Libya at the moment and I only hope that one day the Libyan people will know what democracy is.

Anti Gaddafi rebels who now have a helping hand from the powerful western allies to overthrow the dictator in Libya

At the weekend too, there was another phenomenon, this time a natural one and not a disaster, thank goodness. The papers were full of news about a super full moon and I only realised what they were talking about when I looked outside our bathroom window last night and was taken aback by the size and luminosity of the moon I saw. Apparently it was the closest to the earth it has been in some 18 years. I took a photo which I then mistakenly deleted so I will have to make do with one I found on Google images. This was a nice piece of news for a change. So who said good news is no news?  Not me.

The super full moon which was so much in the news this weekend because of its closeness to earth.  

And on that nice piece of news I have come to the end of this week's blog which I hope you all enjoy. I also hope you have a good week and me too.

Cheers till next time

Masha

A memory packed holiday in Yorkshire, reunions, church and too much food.

Robin Hood's Bay as seen from the Cleveland Walk in the direction of Whitby. I love that place.
Hi again

It’s been quite some time since my last post but that’s because I’ve been on holiday to England and haven’t had time. Now I’m in Montrondo again for the annual family gathering which is actually coming to an end and finally I have a moment to write my blog and recount the experiences of our holiday in Yorkshire.

As I write my mother-in-law is repairing some old jeans of Eladio’s sitting next to me on the “poyo”. A “poyo” (pronouced the same as pollo = chicken in Spanish) in Montrondo is not a chicken, but a stone slab attached to the houses that people sit on like a bench. The men are cutting wood from the trees they felled yesterday, the women have gone to see the house Primo is building and the girls, Suzy, Laura, Alicia and Paula have come home for a mid afternoon snack. My father will be having his siesta in Murias where he stays at the b+b called El Holandés Errante and where they take great care of him.

It wasn’t just a normal holiday in England. It was the first time we were taking my 90 year old Father back to Yorkshire since he left to live with us in October 2005. I should add for clarification that just the three oldies went; Eladio, my Father and I.

We spent the first 5 nights in Brontë country, at the superb 5 star guest house called Ashmount House in Haworth and the last 3 on the North Yorkshire coast at the charming little fishing village, Robin Hood’s Bay, two very beautiful places that meant so much to my Father and I and brought back many memories from my childhood and our past. At the latter we stayed at Manning Tree Bed and Breakfast. It was not in the same league as Ashmount House, but lovely, simple and clean and with a much nicer landlady. Katy took great care of us there. Thank you very much, by the way Katy, for the raspberry jam you gave my Father, the one your Mother made.
Ashmount House guest house in Haworth which was the old surgery.
We had a very tight programme as there was so much to pack into the 8 days. The first day was spent visiting Haworth, the parish church and the Brontë parsonage museum, after which we went for a wonderful walk by the moors where Eladio picked bilberries for my Father.
Eladio picking billberries on the walk outside Haworth.
The walk by the moor in Haworth
Afterwards we drove to one of our favourite places in Yorkshire, Ilkley, where we had lunch at Betty’s, that quintessential English tearoom and walked up to Ilkley Moor for old times sake. This was where my Father used to bring my brother George and I many a weekend and when he used to call me “his little moors girl”. At the time I hated walking but now I love it although I still have an aversion to walking up hills. My Mother would always stay at home as she hated going for walks.
The Brontë Parsonage where the sisters and their family lived. Today it is a museum but just as it was in their day.
That same day we had a reunion dinner at Valya and George Konzeviche’s house in Leeds where we joined by Richard Davies and Misha. Valya had been my Mother’s colleague at Leeds University where they both taught Russian. Richard was also a colleague and is still there. Richard and Misha were both instrumental in the publishing of my Grandfather’s poetry whereby they fulfilled my Mother’s life time dream for which my Father and I are eternally grateful. We had a grand time and the Russian blood in me flourished that evening and even had me singing songs like “Lietat Utki”. The food, as befits the great cook Valya always was, was, of course Russian and the table heaved with delicacies we had not eaten for many years. The reunion was emotional to say the least and brought back memories of my visiting my Mother at Leeds University when I was a teenager and proud she had an office and where Valya would always greet me so lovingly.
Dinner at the Konzeviches
On Friday we went into the centre of Bradford, the home of my childhood and where my Father had lived from 1965 until 2005, a mere 40 years of his life. I always hated Bradford, although I loved the surrounding countryside and vowed I would never live there. I hate it and still do but many memories were stirred that morning as I went from the Halifax Building society to Marks and Spencers and into Boots and all the old shops. It was raining and felt at times as if life had stood still as I watched the inhabitants shopping that morning. The only difference perhaps is that now there are even more Asian immigrants than before. It was difficult to spot white people on Broadway.

Soon it was time to drive to Baildon to Charlestown cemetery to visit my Mother’s grave. My Father and I stood in the rain looking at her tombstone with the inscription which includes some lines from her beloved Father’s poetry. It was a very sad moment.

We soon cheered up as we drove on afterwards passed our old home on Rownwood Road and via Hollin’s Hill where my brother once had a bicycle accident and to Guisely for lunch at the famous fish and chip restaurant, Harry Ramsden’s. We were to be joined by Andy and Amanda who had come down from Surrey to join us for the weekend. Amanda is my childhood friend and Andy was part of our “gang” and also my Father’s former pupil at Bradford Grammar School. The weekend was going to be full of memories for them too as well as for Simon and Gill, Amanda’s brother and wife. Simon too was a past pupil of my Father’s and very much part of my childhood.
Harry Ramsden's world famous fish and chip shop. We always go back there.
Harry Ramsden’s had not changed and we enjoyed our lunch immensely. We all laughed at Andy’s “challenging” portion which he got through with no problems.
Andy's portion of fish and chips.
Our whole stay in Yorkshire was marked by eating and by reunions and Friday evening was going to be the same. Amanda and I were going to drive to Manchester for a school reunion and “the boys”, Eladio and my Father were to have dinner at Embers in Haworth with Andy, Simon and Gill.

Our school reunion dinner was very special. Last year, Amanda and I attended the St. Joseph’s College centenary reunion and that spurred me on to organise a special dinner for a small group of us during our time in Yorkshire. I got together the closest group, Brenda, Ellen, Helen King, Stephanie, Jane, Amanda and myself. The first four all live quite close to each other near Manchester and Jane came from Cardiff for the occasion. Amanda, of course, came from Surrey.
The school girl reunion, class of 1975 at SJC.From left to right: Amanda, Jane, Helen, Stephanie, Brenda, me and Ellen
The evening started off with drinks at Brenda’s and from there we went to Picollini’s in Hale which is apparently Manchester United footballer land. There we were to meet up with Stephanie and Helen, the only two of the group whom I hadn’t seen since we left school in 1975. We had all been part of the Kappa class, except Ellen, and were a close knit group and so all had many memories to share that night. None of us were the “good girls” at St. Joseph’s and it is quite remarkable that we have turned out to be “pillars of society” to quote Amanda. Amongst us that night there was a teacher, two lawyers, a doctor, a highly qualified nurse and two PR professionals. I think we have done Sister Wilfrid, our head teacher at the time, proud or I like to think so. Here are Helen King's husband, Mark's set of photos and here are mine.

The night was not long enough for such a reunion and I know we would all have liked to spend many more hours together. Hopefully we will repeat the occasion, maybe even in Madrid, next year at the same time. At least that is what I have proposed.

The drive back to Haworth was something of a nightmare and we got lost on different motorways despite our sat nav. I had problems when I got to the Ashmount House b+b getting in. I kept ringing Eladio who had agreed to open the door for me when I rang him but he didn’t hear his phone which turned out later to be on silence. To my chagrin, Ray, the owner, heard my timid shouts to Eladio and came down in his dressing gown to open the door. I felt like a naughty school girl just as I had been at St. Joseph’s College. Thus the evening ended fittingly.

On Saturday Simon, Jill, Andy and Amanda came for us and we all set off for a long awaited trip to the Dales. The Dales is the countryside in Yorkshire which is actually a national park and is possibly the prettiest part of England. With its picturesque villages, stone walls, sheep farms, endless green fields and rivers it is somewhere I could happily retire to. When we lived in Yorkshire we would visit them often. I hadn’t been there since the girls were very small and was looking forward to revisiting them as was my Father.

Our first stop, of course, was to eat. Simon and Gill who are locals and know the Dales well, took us to a great little pub called “The Angel” at Hetton near Grassington. It was no less than the 7th best pub for food in the UK so our expectations were high. We were not disappointed, the food was fabulous. The service too, specially the gorgeous looking waiter, Georgio, who came from Georgia! I’d had a couple too many ciders and I asked him if he was related to Stalin!
Lunch at The Angel in Hetton.
From Hetton we drove to Hebden where our long afternoon walk was to begin. We walked along the river Wharfe all the way to Grassington via Linton. I was worried it would be a bit much for my Father but he never haltered, marching with us with the aid of his stick and thoroughly enjoying this glorious walk and afternoon when the sun shone throughout the two and half hours. We passed the superb suspension bridge in Hebden built by William Bell until we reached the bridge at Linton Falls, both with beautiful views of the river. I think this was the day I took most photos in all our time in Yorkshire. The afternoon ended with a cup of tea and beer at one of Grassington’s charming pubs.
On the walk in the Dales
I stopped writing there and have resumed now at home in El Bosque. We got home yesterday and here I am by the pool with Norah at my feet (how I like her best), Suzy working next to me and Eladio cleaning the pool. I can hear the hoover being used by Zena, our Ukranian cleaning lady and it is music to my ears. It is so hot in Madrid, a big change from England I must say.

After Grassington we had dinner at Simon’s, which was a great effort on their part, after having spent the day with us in the Dales. They have a lovely house in Sowerby Bridge near Halifax with an amazing garden. We were joined by the kids: Becky and Abbie, Jake and his new love Tash (Natasha), Jane and Cordelia so it was dinner for 14!!!
The kids at Simon and Gill's
On Sunday morning we did something very unusual. We actually went to church, not to any church but the one in Haworth which is steeped in Brontë history. So why did we go you might ask? Really it was for old time’s sake, a sort of cultural traditional activity. I did it to remember my childhood but also for my Father. He is not religious and in fact told Eladio just as they entered that he is agnostic. But he is, after all, the son of an English vicar and I know he did it for his parents as he told me afterwards. The vicar was a middle aged woman, which was a bit of a surprise but a pleasant one. I wonder what my grandfather would have thought. Singing the hymns had my spine tingling as did taking Holy Communion. I suppose deep down I sort of believe but am not quite sure. Eladio was quite happy to leave at the end and I know he could not fully understand what we felt and why we went. I can fairly say it moved us as I knew it would.
Haworth Parish Church, always a bit gloomy but oh so meaningful to me.
After church Andy came to get us and we drove over the moors to Sowerby Bridge which was a spectacular route. And there waiting for us was a truly British Sunday lunch, roast beef, Yorkshire pudding and all the works which Simon had lovingly cooked for us all.
Simon cooking for us all.
As I said our whole trip was full of reunions and the reunions meant more food. That Sunday we were absolutely stuffed but had awaiting us another dinner, this time at the Wrights, our neighbours at Heaton Grove which is where we lived in Bradford. Dinner was to be between 6 and 7 pm (so early for us) but in between we had to visit the Rothschilds, other neighbours at Heaton Grove and we were dreading food there too. Luckily we were only served sherry. I hadn't seen the Rothschilds since I was a teenager when I used to play with their children, Silvia, Joyce and Walter. Both Silvia and Walter are now rabbis. I remember being invited to their sabbath meals on Friday nights which I loved. I also remembering Mr. Rothschild making wine with us out of peaches. That I loved even more.
The Rothschilds at Heaton Grove, as we laughingly admitted, the poorer side of that famous family.
It was funny returning to Heaton Grove, the place my Father lived for 40 years. I only lived there from the age of 7 to the age of 18 but it was my parent’s home and meant so much to me. Our house looked just the same, as did our neighbours, Susan (in her mid 70’s) and her mother, Marguerite, aged 100. Certainly our trip included socialising with old people. They were very pleased to see us and had prepared a splendid dinner, thankfully a light one, on their beautiful dining room table where everything was “just perfect” including the 19th century Spode chinaware we ate off.
Dinner at the Wrights.
That ended our time in West Yorkshire for, on Monday morning, we made our way to the North Yorkshire coast, to that pretty little seaside fishing village near Whitby called Robin Hood’s Bay.

I included them on our programme as both Whitby and Robin Hood’s Bay and indeed that whole area meant so much to my Father and I. I was also keen to show them to Eladio and knew he would not be disappointed.
The village of Robin Hood's Bay
My Father and I on the blustery pier at Whitby. That brought back a few memories for us.
We spent our time there exploring both places as well as the surrounding coastal villages of Sandsend, Runswick Bay and Staithes. But what we all liked most were the walks along the cliffs on the path that is called The Cleveland Way Walk. The views from both sides of the walk from Robin Hood’s Bay were spectacular and had we had more time we would probably have spent our whole days walking.
Eladio on the Cleveland way walk. You couldn't have a better backdrop for this photo.
Once again eating was an essential part of our programme in North Yorkshire and, upon the recommendation of my friend Kathryn Lindley, another ex SJC friend, we dined out at Estbek House in Sandsend. She told us we wouldn’t be disappointed and we weren’t. The food was delicious and the service very good too, although at times a little too "precious". The surroundings could not have been more beautiful.
Eladio outside Estbek House in Sandsend near Whitby
We had dinner the other nights at the Wayfarer in Robin Hood’s Bay upon recommendations from Katy at the Manning Tree B+B. It was actually around the corner from the B+B and to quote Katy, “at staggering home distance”. We did not stagger home but did have to fight off the wind and the rain and the cold coming home. Unfortunately the last two days in the area brought awful British summer weather with them.
Manning Tree House b+b in Robin Hood's Bay
The worst part of our trip, and the only bad part, apart from not being able to get into Ashmount House, was the drive from Robin Hood’s Bay to Manchester Airport. The weather was appalling, so much so, we later heard Heathrow had been closed for 2 hours due to storms. However we made it to Manchester in time to go through what I later called an obstacle race to catch our 2 planes, one in Manchester and one in London as unfortunately there are no direct flights. My Father was a hero on both trips, following us up and down escalators and through security and customs and walking endless corridors and refusing wheel chair assistance. I looked around and am fairly sure he was the oldest passenger to be seen. I could have cursed myself later when I realised we could have flown to Liverpool. Oh well, next time.

We arrived back to boiling Madrid to find our friends Andy and Amanda and their daughters Jane and Cordelia who have come to Spain to spend a month in Salamanca learning Spanish. It was late and there was no food at home, so it was yet another excuse to go out to dinner. We went to La Vinoteca in Boadilla and were joined by Olivia whom I hadn’t seen for a quite some time. Suffice it to say it was a fantastic night out.

As always it was great to be back but Yorkshire has left its mark on us all, so much so I think we will be returning next year to rent a cottage in the wonderful Yorkshire Dales.

That’s it for the moment, until my post on the annual family gathering in Montrondo which is where we went the day after we returned from England.

Cheers till then
Masha
PS the full set of photos, well the best selection of them, is on Facebook.