tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436057494132606742024-02-02T18:09:54.277+01:00Art and Science in Celrà and ArrecifeThe Blog of Steve Brown in Celrà, Girona.... and Arrecife, Lanzarote.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.comBlogger201125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-62767892462061702742023-01-18T18:46:00.005+01:002023-01-18T18:52:56.254+01:00Logic Park Chapter 1<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><i>I have wonderful ideas for my new book! It is a mad scheme to build a leisure park in France. It is set 10 years in the future, whatever that may hold. Read on. If you like it, please leave a comment. If you don't like it, leave a comment! </i></b><br /></span></p><div class="entry-content"><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">A Grey November afternoon at 4pm in Carcassonne, for one particular
Englishman was reminiscent of London because it was much the same but
maybe a little warmer. At 4pm most people are hoping that the night will
arrive rapidly, then at least it’s dark on account of there being no
sun rather than its being obscured by a thick mantel of cloud with a
spray of fine drizzle beneath it. It almost had a Dickensian feel about
it, one almost expected to see a lamp-lighter wandering among the
street-lights.<br /><br />It was a Sunday which accounted for the absence of
traffic. The road glistened. What traffic that did pass along Avenue
General Leclerc, did so silently or with a strange symphony (or maybe a
cacophony) of musical sounds on account of this being 2030 and the
internal combustion engine being history in most major cities. Most
people these days sampled their car sounds from the internet rather in
the same way that people used to download ring-tones for their phones.
For sure the air was cleaner but it didn’t lift the oppressive feeling
of doom. The bare trees seemed to be weeping.</span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">A dark electric-blue Brum i4 pulled up at the kerb. Or a dark blue
electric Brum i4 pulled up at the kerb, take your choice. It also
emanated a strange ethereal sound reducing in pitch as it came to a
stop, but very dated, as if from a computer movie in the 1980s. Thomas
Leadsom was in his 60s so it was either nostalgia or that he hadn’t yet
mastered how to change it to something more modern. He took a few
moments to check that he had the right location and then looked up the
nearest available parking on his screen. Naturally, his car could make
all the decisions for him but he still preferred to impose his wish to
park off-road. He addressed his car in a firm and authoritative voice,
“Park in Parking Gambetta, it’s back across the bridge”. The car replied
with a cheery “OK” and a waving emoji on the screen.</span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">When he first bought the car in 2022, he would never have dared send
it off to some parking lot, but on account of his growing fame it had
been updated free of charge by Brum with new sensors and, of course, the
software had been updated on a regular basis. Then two years ago, his
battery was replaced with one of the new Plasform power-packs (the word
“battery” by that time had a very dated feel about it). With the new
power-pack, he could charge the car almost as quickly as one used to
take to refill a car with gasoline, and it had a range of 300km. But
many people worried about these new power-packs. After all, they still
contained the same energy as a tank full of gasoline, they were
physically smaller than the old lithium batteries and rapid charging put
great stress on the whole system.</span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">He reached behind his seat for a small folder of papers and eased
himself out of the car. He shut the door and immediately it moved off
towards its parking space, humming in an ascending scale to itself as it
went. He was casually dressed, jeans and a shirt with a thick sweater
and a bomber jacket to keep out the damp cold air. The Prison, Maison
d’Arrêt lay towards la Cité outside the centre of the town, Thomas
thought how similar in appearance it was to Wormwood Scrubs which he
knew well from visiting clients. Maybe the prison featured in movies and
TV series as was the case with The Scrubs. As he approached the gates
to the prison, he realised, of course that numerous cameras were now
plotting his progress and analysing who he was. Thomas Alvarez Lendsom,
62, British, lawyer, married with two children, lives in Hampstead,
London. In the UK, ID cards had finally been accepted so the trawling of
information was even easier. People realised that they had given so
much about themselves in social media and online that there was really
very little more that they could give away. But the research on this
visitor went further. From his profile in Silicon Valley, the prison was
able to create a complete picture of the man. And because he had been
in all the newspapers and TV outside the law courts, le Cour d’Assises,
on Friday, the prison quickly came to the conclusion that he had come to
visit his client. Or “ex-client” because they had parted acrimoniously
as he was led down to start his sentence and as Thomas went out to
attempt to explain to the press why his client had had a “James Ratner”
moment, an act of hari-kari. Norman Prensel had destroyed his case in a
few short moments giving the judges an early start to their weekend, for
which they were thankful because the case had already dragged on for 15
days.</span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Thomas had hoped to visit his client, his ex-, without anyone knowing
but some hope of that. There was a small group of people outside the
jail wall, some he supposed were friends or family of inmates but one or
two looked suspiciously like journalists. He walked up briskly to the
police officer at the gate and explained who he was and the purpose of
his visit, although that was hardly necessary. It was possible that the
policeman knew more about him than he knew himself. Was his wife having
an affair which he was spending so much time in France? It was the hour
of normal visiting and he had already checked with Norman’s family to
see if they planned on visiting him. The policeman at the entrance gave
Thomas an ID on a lanyard, the photo it took from their own database,
and a wristband. He gave up his mobile phone.<br /><br />He was led to a small
room by a prison warder where he found a motley bunch of sad looking
people waiting to see their loved ones (or maybe their confederates to
ask where they hid the money). Thomas took a seat next to a very large
woman in a floral dress. He picked up a copy of Paris Match and there at
page 4 was a report on the court case, the trial of Norman Prensel,
world-famous entrepreneur and bon viveur, now brought low, not by the
law which his lawyer was skillfully manipulating but by a seemingly rash
statement at his trial. That was why Thomas was at the jail rather than
heading for home, that would have to wait. But then he doubted what
would happen. Their conversation would not be direct but via an
electronic link and any sound or unusual actions would immediately be
picked up by the artificial intelligence. His face, his emotions would
be picked up by the software. In public, face recognition was still a
controversial subject, more so as it became more sophisticated. But in a
prison, anything goes!</span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">He imagined Norman being brought from his cell to the meeting room. Maybe he wouldn’t want to see him and what could they talk about anyway.
The weather? But, yes, Norman was happy to meet, after about 15
minutes, a warder called his name and took him down a dark corridor to
the meeting room. As he opened the door, Thomas saw Norman but not as he
was accustomed to seeing him. Of course, now, he was wearing a prison
uniform but previously he was always impeccably dressed in a dark suit,
tie and white shirt. He walked up to the screen where Norman was seated,
he said “Hello” and Norman responded. Then followed a little small talk
before Thomas put the big question, “Why did he do it?”. Not the crime
itself but the virtual confession when Thomas had almost got him off the
charges. This was the question on everyone’s lips. But he knew that
Norman could not reply as it would have been picked up immediately and
for sure leaked to the press. Norman looked back at him with a blank
look on his face and a Gallic shrug of the shoulders. But then he
smiled, this was not expected. And his smile cautiously drew Thomas’s
eyes down to his hands which were clasped on the table in front of him.
And then Thomas saw it. From the wrist up to the first knuckle of his
right hand was a string of letters and numbers, about 12 in all. He
reached in his wallet as if to consult his documents but drew out a
sheet of paper and a pen and casually wrote down the string of letters.
He had to write it down although he had no idea what it meant, maybe
some kind of code that he could present to his clever mathematical
friends in the UK. The vigilance in that room was so tight that he
feared that at any moment his writing would be discovered. Norman looked
back at him blankly and gave him one or two phone numbers which were
obviously bogus just to camouflage the vital text. Then, out of the
blue, Norman said, “My penis is tiny”. Just that. Well, Thomas had never
had the opportunity to judge that, either flaccid or erect. Norman, he
knew was gay but he was happily married so there was no question of
anything happening between them. And then he said, “You are lawyer”. Not
“You are a lawyer” which would make more sense and the former was not
English in any case. But he was smart enough to realise that this was
also a coded message. He didn’t even risk winking his eye, he just
looked blankly back across the screen and continued to chat about the
weather. And so they continued, just chatting but obviously Norman had
passed something important to Thomas. The time came for him to leave,
they said their goodbyes and as Thomas reached the door, he looked back
to see Norman surreptitiously wiping the letters from his hand, making
out that he was wringing his hands in sadness. And that was the last
time either of them saw each other for a number of reasons. But one in
particular.</span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Thomas retrieved his phone and escaped out into the street again, it
was 5.30pm and he checked for messages. There were very many, most of
which he ignored. There were several which noted that he had visited the
prison and which were requesting an interview. And the crowd had
certainly increased in number, and they were not all visiting friends
and relatives, that was for sure. There were two large and powerful
motorbikes at the kerb and several guys hanging around with expensive
looking cameras. A microphone was thrust into his face, “What did he
say?” He felt vulnerable without his car so he started walking briskly
in the direction of the main boulevard where he had sent his car. The
press pack followed and jostled him. “You had your day on Friday, leave
me alone!” he cried. He called up his car and it responded, “I will pay
with the disk on the windscreen”, it replied, “Don’t worry”. Somehow his
own car had caught wind of the pressure he was under, he supposed it
was the tone of his voice unless the car watches TV. Maybe it was,
inanimate objects, all connected to the internet-of-everything have been
getting uncomfortably smart. He cursed at the journalists and paparazzi
in the most vulgar French he could think of and continued walking. When
he reached the bridge which crossed the River Aude, he saw a familiar
blue car approaching slowly as if looking out for someone. He flung the
folder in behind the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut and gratefully
drove away in the direction of the A61 autoroute which would take him
to Toulouse. But he had not shaken off the two motorcyclists and he also
became aware of a black Mercedes which he had seen parked by the
prison, He had dismissed it as obviously not being press. He couldn’t
make out the registration mark but it was neither French nor British, he
thought he saw a blue and yellow stripe next to the number.</span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">After just over 10 minutes, he arrived at the autoroute. Naturally
the traffic was very “fluide” as the gantry signs told him, but he was
still being harassed by the two motorcycles. And the Mercedes was still
there as well. He tried changing lanes but apart from increasing speed
which would obviously have attracted a ticket, this was the only thing
he could do. This motley little convoy continued to Toulouse where the
number became A62, this was his target for getting out of France and
heading for home. The two motorcycles had given up, it was obvious that
he was heading back to Calais so there was no point in chasing him any
further. About 5 km out of Toulouse, he pulled off to recharge the
power-pack and visit the toilet. As he got back into the car, he
remembered the coded letters that Norman had given him. He took the
paper out of the wallet and sat thinking. Tiny penis, tiny, tiny. What
is the clue there? And, “you are lawyer”. He wrote the words on the
paper, folded it and put it in his top pocket. He would have to work
that out later or during the boring hours of travel ahead. He didn’t see
the Mercedes slip out of the lay-by 50m behind him.</span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Very soon he was passing the airport, he was tired, but his spirits
were lifting. He was happy to be going home. After about 10 km, when he
was close to the maximum of 120 kph, something strange happened. There
was a shock and a loud bang in the front of the car and suddenly he was
upside down about 2 metres above the central reservation, at high speed.
The car dropped rapidly to the ground onto its roof, spinning twice,
into the fast lane of the opposing traffic and the collision with the
camper-van was unavoidable. There was silence. All traffic stopped with
the exception of a black Mercedes which slipped by unnoticed as it
headed towards Calais. People jumped out of their cars and attempted to
drag Thomas out of the car. He was obviously seriously hurt but, even in
these electric day, people still feared a fire. They laid him on the
road and within a few seconds, the power pack, punctured by the Armco
exploded sending fire and a plume of smoke into the night. When the
medics arrived, there was very little they could do. At first, they
didn’t even put him in the ambulance, it was obvious that by now he was
dead.</span></p>
</div>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-54190177890724615732022-12-03T17:34:00.003+01:002022-12-03T17:50:53.947+01:00My life in 2022 (about money)<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I was shocked when I realised that my last post here was over a year ago, in August 2021. So it is time to do a little catching up.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I really enjoy telling you about my life in Spain... in Catalunya and in Lanzarote. It has been one huge adventure, especially in Lanzarote with my battle over the first house that I wanted to buy.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">In my last post, I described a Conciliation held at the Law Courts between me, Pablo the owner and the estate agent. But I never wrote about the result.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">At the last moment, Pablo the owner paid the €2,500 to the estate agent and the meeting was therefore cancelled. I could have taken this as an admission of responsibility. I actually sent him a WhatsApp message to thank him for paying the money; it was a big relief for me. He replied that he had done me a favour! I mentioned the €7000 again but I knew in my heart that I would be saying goodbye to that. I really didn't want to pursue this any further - I had found a better flat to buy, so in the long term, I had gained. In a way, the €2,500 claim against me and Pablo caused me more sleepless nights than the €7000 which I could have switched off at any time. Which is exactly what I did. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And that is the last I heard of the story. I don't even know if the neighbours who built on the roof were fined. It is a shame that they suffered but I am sure I would have been paying the estate agent too if I had not alerted the Town Hall.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Often I think about these events (with pleasure but with a kind of thrill). I took a big risk. And that was despite losing a huge sum of money (and my mental health for a while) over the <a href="https://steve-meza.blogspot.com/2017/10/a-jump-back-in-time.html">house which I bought in Celrà</a>. I put myself under pressure to buy a place here in Arrecife. And many parts of the city (and it had to be Arrecife) were out of the question, for example Argana Alta, which is a long way from the centre. The coronavirus pandemic was under way and I felt that I could not simply go back to Catalunya without buying a place; travelling was complicated. This was my only opportunity. I felt rather stranded! So I was in rather a "gung-ho" mood (dangerous) and decided on the first house despite the electricity and water not being fitted. I was lucky to escape. Maybe Pablo would not have been able to complete it by the time of signing the compraventa with the notario, so maybe I would have escaped anyway.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">After the Conciliation, I returned to Girona but only for a short while. I spent most of last winter (2021-22) in Lanzarote and returned to Catalunya at the end of May.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have to admit, I don't do very much when I'm in Lanzarote. I enjoy the sun, the beach, I go swimming. I take excursions to other parts of the island by bus (guagua it is called here). I have been to Tenerife twice, to Puerto de la Cruz. It is quick and cheap on Binter with their ATR-72 turboprops.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I got involved with the Anglican Church in Lanzarote and attended services there. But this year it all turned a little bit sour (which obviously I can't write about here). And I no longer attend church there.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">At the start of 2021, I finally cut one important financial tie with the UK - I cashed a savings bond which I had held for many years going back to 1990. The company paid me free of tax because I no longer pay tax in the UK and I then expected to pay tax in Spain in May 2022. But there seemed to be confusion among my advisors whether this was a capital gain or considered as income. That latter would have cost me much more. I visited the tax office in Arrecife and the man there actually wrote "Renta Patrimonial" on my document meaning capital gain. In May, much to my pleasure, I completed my first tax return online in Spain. Previously it had been done by my accountant in Girona. At the end of June and on November 6th 2022, the Tax Office sucked the tax out of my bank account. I hope I did everything correctly. The amount of tax I paid was what I was expecting. Next May in 2023, things will be much simpler because I will just be paying tax on my pensions which don't change much from year to year. But the State Pension is due to rise by 10%, which is a lot. This is thanks to the controversial Triple-Lock in the UK and to the huge increase in the cost of living index (RPI).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">In 2022, Barclays Bank in the UK, finally told me they were closing my account. This is as a result of Brexit and Passporting rules between the UK and the EU. I have three private pensions (I know it sounds a lot but it's not big money) and they were paid (in Sterling) to Barclays. But I have an account at Wise with an account in Sterling. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">It is actually a Barclays account with a UK sort-code. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">What could be simpler than asking the pension companies to switch to paying Wise? Two of the three, both large well-established companies changed over without problems. But the third (I won't mention their name because they have now acquiesced) argued and argued for ever. I have a mountain of letters between us because they did not have secure mail online. They were happy to pay the money to my Spanish bank for a fee of £50 with, of course, my having no control over the exchange rate. Sure they were!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">In the end, they sent a ludicrous request for my passport (the original or a certified copy), a utility bill and my Wise account (which conveniently showed payments from the other two pension companies!) Did they not know who I was?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I suspected this was to save loss of face because their reasons for not paying Wise were ridiculous, quoting the UK financial protection service (FSCS). They were effectively deciding how I should protect my money. On 14th October, the money arrived in my Sterling account in Wise. (Hard-fought) battle won!<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The next post (very soon) will be more colourful with lots of photos. This post is all rather dry... all about money! But I just wanted you to know that I'm still alive and enjoying life!</span></p><p><br /></p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-17174430156245335152021-08-26T21:46:00.002+02:002021-08-26T21:48:41.121+02:00The Battle of los Estupidos<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">This morning, as with most days, I was suffering from a brain fog. Sometimes it clears during the day, sometimes never.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had forgotten the PIN for a credit card which I didn't use very often. On the way to the swimming pool, I stopped off at my bank. In the old paper-full days, the person at the desk would have given me a slip of paper with a temporary PIN. Now, he explained, having activated some process on his terminal, I had to go to the ATM, insert the card and I will receive a code in my phone.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">My turn to be stupid. I passed the card by the contactless pad on the ATM. The machine sent the code to my phone, accepted my new PIN and the number sent to my phone. It waited a bit then displayed a message, "Transaction cancelled".</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I was having trouble reading the numbers on my phone and the display kept on timing out. So I tried a couple more times.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But, of course, how can the ATM reprogram my card if it is in my hand?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Finally, the assistant did it for me and then it dawned on me, my mistake.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But later, having written a great deal of software in my time, I started to think. Maybe other people have made the same mistake. Maybe many people don't know where the PIN is stored anyway. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Does the machine not know whether the card was scanned or inserted in the slot? I cannot believe that, I am sure it is lazy programming. When I was writing software, almost 60% of my time was covering all possible human errors. So the software should have prompted me to insert the card. And at the very least, at the end, it should have displayed a message which meant something useful such as "card not found". Then my mistake would have been more obvious.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Anyway, all is resolved. But I ended up feeling really stupid for not realising my error... and later, feeling annoyed about the software which could gently have pointed me in the right direction.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But my swimming on a beautiful hot day in Celrà cured all my annoyance. Another super day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But on 12th September, I have to return to Lanzarote for a <i>Concilación</i>. The estate agent (see my previous posts) wants their €2,500 and is taking both me and the proprietor to court to recover the money. This meeting instigated by the Law Courts, is an attempt to find a solution before going to court. And I still haven't received back my deposit of €7,700.</span><br /></p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-65600894012128337972021-05-22T21:53:00.045+02:002021-12-26T21:25:59.577+01:00Strange people<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">I suppose every city has its league of drop-outs, beggars and people who are not quite right in the head.. or people who are just plain stupid (like me many times). And Arrecife has a few. No more than any city I am sure but, because the city is not very big, I get to recognise each one.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But something on the beach upset me this afternoon and it prompted me to write this post.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I went earlier than normal so I spent some time under one of the palm trees at the back of the beach because the sun was very strong. There was a guy nearby just standing, wearing street clothes. And he just stood there, or wandered around. It made me feel uncomfortable although, of course, I was not under any threat. I was a short distance from the street. Later he left, so that was OK.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Then I moved down the beach into the sun, I went swimming. At low tide, there is only one entry point into the sea, free of rocks which was about 20m to my right (I am sure it has been carved out like that). When I came back, I was relaxing on my towel on my back when I heard a kind of sniffing sound. One of the two guys who I had seen earlier in the sea walked right past me, barely 1m away. And this was on a half-empty beach where my nearest neighbour was about 20m away. And he had no reason to walk past me, he would have had to make a huge detour from the sea to where he and his friend were based. Ridiculous as it sounds, I could not come to any other conclusion than that he had come to look at me. It left me feeling very unsettled. The two guys were about 40, slightly overweight. I don't even know what nationality they were. Maybe he was just plain stupid with no idea of distance, Covid or no-Covid. The fact that I am vaccinated doesn't make much difference to how I feel - I am<i> still </i>very careful.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Who next? Outside my local supermarket there is always the same guy with his cup which he rattles in front of people entering and leaving. He also accosts people passing in the street (Actually it is a pedestrian zone, called Calle Real. But in fact it is an extension of my street, Calle León y Castillo). He is always there. And he always approaches me despite my having ignored him for about 5 months. But the Spanish are more generous that us Brits and some people chat with him and give him money. Obviously this guy does not have mental defects, this is the only easy way he can see to make money.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Up to about a month ago there was a guy, large but not fat, about 50 I guess, who seemed to live in Calle Real but he wasn't begging. He had a kindly face. He slept in the entrance to a bank and spent the day sitting on a bench. I often used to wonder about how he had arrived in such a state. Unlike the guy outside the supermarket, who was younger, I felt sympathy for him. And then one day, he was lying on the pavement with his wrist bleeding surrounded by a number of people. One woman was getting very aggresive which is unusual in Spain. It was obvious that it was not life-threatening and I passed by. Next day I saw two people from social services talking with him. A couple of weeks later, he was no longer there. I hope that they are taking good care of him.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I met a woman at the pension where I was staying and she tended to chat with almost anyone whereas I am far more reserved. One day I was passing la Charca and she introduced me to a black guy who she said was a musician. I regretted that meeting because he now holds court on a couple of benches close to where I walk up to my flat. I don't know where he lives, maybe under a bridge somewhere but he is almost always there with a small crowd of acolytes. He used to address me with a loud, "Good afternoon" but I now ignore him. He begged for money a couple of times so that was my excuse. His English was very good - maybe he <i>is</i> English.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">There is a very skinny woman about 50, I was sure she has sisters because I would see her so often in shop entrances. She begs, but not agressively. There is another girl, almost like a younger version, and she zooms around bars asking for money. Actually she is quite sweet... but she is still begging. Both have short hair in a classical lesbian style.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">There is a very sad guy about 60, again in Calle Real, who shakes a plastic cup but wthout much hope. Another middle-aged woman seems to be a friend of the black guy. She looks like any other middle aged woman but the back-pack is a clue to the fact that she is probably homeless. And the fact that sometimes she is seated on the pavement outside shops, talking loudly. Yes, I guess that is a clue too.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Other people in Arrecife...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">There is a man, middle-aged, who always rides an old blue bike and he is always topless. Another man is extremely tall and rides a bike with lots of bulging paniers which I guess is his life. I imagine that he lives under a rock somewhere. I suppose one can do that here because the nights are not as cold as in the rest of Europe. One man I often see looks like a sea-captain. He has one leg and one prosthetic metal leg.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Maybe people consider me a little strange. I don't see many guys with long hair. I don't see <i>any</i> guys with long hair! When I get my courage up, I want to be more feminine when I go out. Next time I come back, I will bring more of my girly clothes. That will shock my neighbours! When I was on holiday in Fuerteventura last year, I went out wearing a dress. One of the first things I want to do when I get back to Catalunya is to paint my nails. I didn't bring the UV lamp or the varnishes with me this time. The colour will be my favourite, swimming pool blue!<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Something that I knew some time ago, the singing voice is not the same as the spoken voice. I sometimes stop to listen to a young Spanish guy singing with his guitar outside the bars in el Charco and I drop 50 centimos in his guitar case (only 50 cents you say!) But when he introduces his songs, it is evident that he has a terrible stammer. His songs are all in Spanish unlike one guy who appeared in Calle Real a few weeks ago. He had a horrible rasping voice and he sang all the corny old 70s favourites, such as <i>Running Like the Wind</i>, to his guitar. No 50 centimos for you, sorry.</span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I feel fortunate to have income from the UK so in no way am I being critical of these people. It makes me feel lucky because at times in my life, I could have gone up or down. Maybe not living on the street but not far off it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Things that annoy me. Well not much. Spitting is so disgusting and dirty, I hesitate to mention it here. I normally say something. Guys spit here... and also in Celrà, so it is not unique to Lanzarote. It is unhealthy also but more so during the pandemic.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">There sems to be a number of sad guys who feel the need to feed pigeons around el Charco in spite of notices which say, "Don't feed the pigeons" in three languages. They tend to bring an entire loaf of bread and scatter it around the part just above the water. I was greatly amused a few days ago to see a guy on a racing bike stop close to the bar where I was having a beer. He was wearing cleats, the serious cycling shoes. And I looked up to see that he was nursing a pigeon in his hands. Stroking its tail, its wings. Much love. I exchanged quizzical looks with another couple in the bar who had also seen this chap. He fed it water from his bottle. Finally he rode away with his pigeon in his hand. I joked with the couple that maybe it was now a pet (<i>mascota</i> in Spanish). I think they were German so maybe they didn't understand my Spanish. However, we enjoyed the joke!</span></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLiyVkj7JMZhi6MLvwaAkiqll0y5TeeDIcYgIOCK0FoO4zrYS60EIJMe_d_4jUHdOm2k0K4s1kpJyljf_6k3T9dD-7ok9FsxIyLi-rQdkPmFoalIFuNN7W_EBmmCVkCUlhhX4kRmHRXdX/s2048/20210430_122638.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPLiyVkj7JMZhi6MLvwaAkiqll0y5TeeDIcYgIOCK0FoO4zrYS60EIJMe_d_4jUHdOm2k0K4s1kpJyljf_6k3T9dD-7ok9FsxIyLi-rQdkPmFoalIFuNN7W_EBmmCVkCUlhhX4kRmHRXdX/w180-h320/20210430_122638.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sorry, reverse angle!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4o_k4itlOvIavJ8G7en0VEeYI7EEgvSa2Q0l8fXNq-PqlRUgjc5CNJE_DHQmiwzbe8TdXvRB2dE4s7joUaAVZkAxtLXhSN0QAUl08BIQfkxRLwmKNG-kuioq99lRPietfQwOebE6DrMnq/s2048/car-pix.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4o_k4itlOvIavJ8G7en0VEeYI7EEgvSa2Q0l8fXNq-PqlRUgjc5CNJE_DHQmiwzbe8TdXvRB2dE4s7joUaAVZkAxtLXhSN0QAUl08BIQfkxRLwmKNG-kuioq99lRPietfQwOebE6DrMnq/s320/car-pix.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my lounge/kitchen is on the left<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Noise tends to be a problem wherever one lives in Spain.... or maybe in the world. This is a narrow street for neighbours only (there is a sign to say so) next to my lounge which is on the left. These two cars are not permitted to park as they don't have a permit. The 4x4 nearer to the camera is not even a neighbour and this guy really takes the mickey, he parks there almost all the time. I went and reported him to the local police but, guess what, nothing happened. I wrote an email to the local police and nothing happened. I spoke to an English guy who lives just down this street and he said that the police <i>do</i> issue parking tickets...... once a year!<br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The problem for me is the state of the paving stones next to the wall on the left. They are broken and loose (they are for pedestrians, not cars), and they rock during the night when a car attempts to pass the parked cars. So it tends to wake me up. And it is annoying during the day too. I wrote an email to the Works department in the Town Hall, nothing happened. I wrote two more times - no reply. I spoke to a guy in one of the trucks of the Works department and he promised that he would look at it, but nothing new so far. He said words to the effect, "Huh, don't waste your time with the Town Hall, nothing happens"! They have a warehouse up by Ikea which is about a 30 minute walk (which I know well!) If the same state of affairs is still here when I return, I will do a Denuncia with the local police. Then they and the Works department <i>have</i> to do something.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But this is one small thing among many great advantages of living here, so I have no complaints really. I certainly landed on my feet here (at the second attempt at buying a flat!)<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-38327700514242185792021-05-20T12:59:00.012+02:002021-05-23T22:08:42.887+02:00More about money claims<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">My last post about buying flats ended with my planned meeting at
the Colegio de Abogados. That was on 5th May and, having provided the
missing document, there was a long pause as the woman read through her sheaf of
documents. "What is your income?" she asked. Well, she knew that from
day one because it was one of the first things I had to provide. She
looked at the figure, she seemed confused. She wrote a euro sign
after the amount to add to my euro sign before the amount as if to make
it clearer.<br /><br />"This is too much, it is over our limit for free assistance."<br /><br />Well, the upshot of this was that
she gave me another form to add to the one that I had received earlier
confirming the acceptance of the offer. This new form said that my claim
had been "provisionally" rejected! <br /><br />"So I have wasted my time?" I said (but very politely because previously I had pulled her leg about being impatient with me. So I had decided to be on my best behaviour.)<br /><br />"Well, no, in 2 months time the application will be reviewed, the rejection is only provisional."<br /><br />So
I was back to square one. I contacted a new lawyer to ask his advice.
Alfonso. He looked through all my documents, and generously said that
my claim was "viable". But he did not fill me with optimism.<br /><br />Then there was a new unwelcome
development. Out of the blue, about a week ago, I received a phone call
from the lawyer of the estate agent. You may remember from my previous
post that, according to the contract of the option to buy (the first
apartment), there was a sum of €2,500 to be paid to the estate agent by
the person (Pablo or me) who had defaulted on the contract. I had hoped
that there was a third way (in the tradition of Tony Blair) in which
neither of us was at default, the contract could be annulled. Having heard nothing for 5 months, I assumed that
the estate agent and Pablo had come to some kind of agreement, after
all, they did business together. <br /><br />The lawyer saw things in black and white, he saw no third way. I will call him Sergio. He was very amicable and clearly thought
that I had not defaulted on the contract. He wanted to speak to my
lawyer.<br /><br />"Give me his name and phone number, and I will call him."
Haha.. no way. I said that I would give Alfonso his number and maybe he will reply.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Alfonso
had no interest in talking to Sergio, he simply wanted to carry on with
my claim. So I spoke to Sergio instead. And it soon became clear what his
motive was. He could not decide whether to sue me or Pablo for the
€2,500. So he wanted to hitch a ride on my claim against Pablo. If I
won, he would claim the €2,500 from Pablo and vice-versa. I refused that
immediately. He said that Pablo was not returning his calls. I
suggested he went to Pablo's office in Arrecife. It was only then that I
discovered that he was in Tenerife.<br />
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So
his response was that he would take both me and Pablo to court and
whoever lost would have to pay the €2,500. But courts don't work like
that. It is not a beauty contest, "Who is the fairer of the two? Pablo
or Steve"!</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So
that is how things are at the moment. Instead of Sergio hitching a ride
on my case, which to me was unacceptable, I will see what is the outcome of his futile attempt to take
two people to court at the same time for the same claim. Maybe the Colegio de Abogados will change their mind (actually I think
it is the Cabildo, the government of Lanzarote, that makes the
decision). I am not worried. I told Sergio that I had a huge folder of
documents <i>(un montón de documentos</i>) which clearly shows that I was
justified in withdrawing from the contract, even if
he does manage to take me to court. <br /></span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I
am going back to Catalunya on Tuesday - I am looking forward to that!
Much as I love Arrecife, there are things that I miss in Celrà. My
balcony, my bike, my friends. And maybe soon we won't have to wear masks
in the open air. I have enough trouble remembering faces under normal
conditions, to remember eyes is quite a challenge for me. Partly for
that reason, I have only the two girls who work at the pension as
friends here. Maybe I will come back here during the summer for a few days, I don't
know but I will definitely come back in October to stay for the winter. The flights are very cheap because I get a huge discount for being
a resident of the islands (Well they are cheap anyway these days. My ticket is €30
but that includes choice of seat and checked baggage. 10.30am flight to BCN with Vueling, perfect. Walk up to the bus station, 15 mins, bus at 8am.) I guess that, if
a flight is €30 for all people, I get a very small discount if any, I
don't get 70% off €30.</span></p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-17162890903270349632021-04-30T19:11:00.006+02:002021-05-01T15:59:38.930+02:00More about Religion<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I wrote here some time ago about religion and my Christian faith. I guess I have experienced two main phases in my Christian journey. Firstly it was
big evangelical meetings when I was in my teens, then cathedral services which of course could not be further from my original experiences. One great influence was the music of Bach and all the other great composers who wrote such wonderful spiritual church music.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But during the past
year or two, I have started thinking a lot about beliefs which I have
taken as read for many years. And I find myself rejecting some
traditional Christian ideas such as redemption (maybe it came from
Paul) but at the same time being totally believing about the
Resurrection, life after death, healing and miracles in general. For many years, I accepted the idea that Jesus died for my sins. But I wasn't even born. It is suggested that I require forgiveness for something that happened 2000 years ago. Maybe that was a weight that I carried around with me for many years. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I don't
believe prayer is a supplication to be given a negative or positive
reply, I see it as peer to peer. I don't see how Christianity is a kind
of ticket to everlasting life whereas other religions (or even
agnostics) don't qualify. We are all made up of atoms and are subject to
the same physical laws (many of course which we don't understand, so we
call them "supernatural"). I believe in God but as part of the whole
mass of living cells and inanimate objects in the world and in the
universe. Therefore I don't believe that God acts in the world (hence no
problem with, "How does God allow...") Theodicy (I just learnt a new word!) </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I read recently that the atoms which make up our bodies change completely over a period of about 7 years. And I also read with interest about the vast empty (?) space between the nucleus of an atom and its electrons, not to mention the almost impossibly small size of an atom. This has made a big impact on my spiritual beliefs, strangely enough. It makes it more credible to me that we are all part of the same world and that the border between me and the outside world is not a hard barrier of skin but rather.. well nothing much at all!<br />
<br />I believe our minds are outside the constraints of our skulls, I think
we are all connected. Memory interests me greatly, is that outside the
head also? (In a block universe maybe, where we can re-experience the moods and smells of events many years ago). When I die, I like to think of
myself just taking a step sideways into the part of me that was always
outside my body and not subject to its atrophy. So my main fear of dying is leaving
behind lots of junk in my home for someone else to clear up!
<br />
<br />I started reading about quantum mechanics, firstly about Erwin
Shrödinger's famous cat and then I followed other books by the same
author. Then I discovered "What is Life?" written by Schrödinger which
talks a lot about God whereas one would expect it to dismiss the idea. I
bought The Perennial Philosophy by Aldous Huxley because Schrödinger
refers to it (but it is really heavy going!) And then, as a result of
reading his obituary recently in The Times, I discovered John Polkinghorne who
also worked in particle physics and who later in his life was ordained as a Church of England priest. I bought a small paperback of his (it is not available on Kindle). But of
course, there is much of his work that I can read online or in my
Kindle. I will be interested to see what he says because I think I am
travelling a similar path. I realise now that I could easily have found
him with a search "science and religion". </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Placebos and Dark Matter</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">What do these two terms have in common? Well, they are both bandied about by believers and sceptics alike as being real. Placebos are an accepted part of research into a new drug, for example. But how is it possible? That believing that one will get well, actually makes us better. But this seems to be accepted in general. So in that case, pain that is "in the mind" - in other words psychosomatic illness should also be accepted by everyone. If the mind can make us better then presumably it can also make us ill. But many people dismiss the latter as not being real. I believe the pain is real and the cause is something that is occurring in the mind, it is not an injury or something such as arthritis.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have a friend who is content to live under the label of fibromyalgia until I say that it is the doctors saying that they don't understand the cause, maybe it is in the mind. Then he gets annoyed with me because he says that the pain is real. Of course the pain is real, I am not saying otherwise but, because the cause may be psychosomatic, he considers this to be an insult. Nooo, nothing to be ashamed of. The mind is very powerful, more powerful that we can understand.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">For most of my life I have had a pain which it is almost impossible to summarise - sometimes it is mental and it makes me depressed, sometimes it causes physical stress, which is obviously real. Sometimes its effects change withing seconds, depending on where the pain is situtated (usually in the region of my head or neck). Sometimes it blocks all feeling which is the worst feeling of all. I suppose you are expecting me to tell you the cause but even at my advanced age, it is still a mystery. Sometimes I think it is because for much of my life, I have lived as a guy but inside I feel female. I just don't know. And it has defeated the various psychologists who I have visited over the years. Now I have lost my feeling for painting, which makes me sad. I wanted to buy a studio in Lanzarote but, if I have no desire to paint, then it would be a waste of money. For many years it was a dream but such a place would have been too expensive where I live in Catalunya.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Now where was I? .... <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Dark Matter is another of those terms which are used by most people, many of whom are not really considering the implications in what they are believing - rather as in the case of placebos. How is this possible? That about 27% of the universe is made of of something that we are unable to detect except by gravity. As if we can see the shadow of something but we are unable to see the source.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I cannot understand people who say that what we see is all that there is, that there is very little more to discover. People have said that through the ages and have been shown to be embarrassingly wrong. It is clear to me that we live in a world which is truly amazing and, despite the huge advances in science and technology, that by comparison we know nothing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So I believe that the greater knowledge I have gained by reading about quantum mechanics for example, has taken me closer to God. But it is not the God of the Garden of Eden, it is a God very much alive through Jesus. It is not the God that I was taught about in my teens, it is a God that I can almost touch!<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span><br />
</p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-54948840786464371432021-04-19T13:53:00.004+02:002021-04-19T14:13:01.010+02:00A second flat!<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I've put off writing this post for quite some time because I am making a claim in the courts here for the return of my deposit of €7,700 (which I wrote about in my previous post) and I don't want to jeopardise the court case by writing too much here. So I have either changed names or simply not mentioned names. The following text is without prejudice. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">In my last post, I wrote about a flat which I was committed to buy. The date for signing with the Notary was 30 days after the signing of the initial contract which, had it happened, would have been Christmas Eve. About 2 weeks after signing the initial contract, I was visiting the flat to meet a guy from Ikea to measure up the kitchen (I was alone, the owner had given me the keys). We hit several snags because a lot of the kitchen had already been decided upon (see below) but I had my own ideas. After the man left, I noticed a large amount of rubble in my internal patio, there was a guy working on the roof, the azotea. I went up to the roof and had a shock! There were new buiding works, a huge amount of breeze block stored which I assumed had been delivered by crane. The neighbours in the left-hand upstairs flat were building on the roof which would clearly have affected my flat by blocking the light in the internal patio at certain times in the day as well as altering the structure of the whole building. And then it occured to me that maybe it was illegal in any case. I took a photo which annoyed greatly the builder. And I had proof in my structural survey that the buiding work started after I signed the document<br /><br /></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMlaixa9lm2-oSMLfLu8dxcFOoshC1PFaJUe5oBdZE4bgy3YkUVaXZTe-EhetpEV_zYcyogja4ExWdAQDNUVAxq7ZkoQYUO4dG0nsXPiHc3gqFMMy3xKQhf90DNIBkjBWZTgIdHKPk1y-Z/s2048/20201102_093554.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMlaixa9lm2-oSMLfLu8dxcFOoshC1PFaJUe5oBdZE4bgy3YkUVaXZTe-EhetpEV_zYcyogja4ExWdAQDNUVAxq7ZkoQYUO4dG0nsXPiHc3gqFMMy3xKQhf90DNIBkjBWZTgIdHKPk1y-Z/s320/20201102_093554.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">space for the kitchen<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I went to see Pablo (name changed) the proprietor of the whole building. He got angry when I suggested that the work was illegal, he thought I was referring to the whole building. He offered to cancel the contract and return my money but suggested we meet with the neighbours that afternoon. We had a long (but basically friendly) argument about angles of the sun but I had no doubt that I wanted to get out of this contract. Pablo repeated his offer and I accepted.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">A little later I received a message in WhatsApp from Pablo. He had highlighted with marker pen a clause which demands that the person defaulting on the contract not only loses their deposit (in my case) but also has to pay the estate agent compensation of €2,500. Obviously he considered that I had defaulted on the contract and should pay the "fine", presumably after receiving the refund. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">If Pablo defaults on the contract, he not only has to refund my deposit but also has to pay me a further €7,700 as compensation. So the stakes were quite high. In fact, I never previously asked for the double payment, I just wanted my €7,700 back as promised (plus my costs). Although I have had lots of conversations with lawyers, I have never established if there is a "third way" - in other words, the contract is void due to the conditions having changed but that neither I nor Pablo is technically at fault. In any case, my argument is that it had changed and therefore I was no longer tied to it.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">His defence is that the building work is the responsibility of the neighbours - "Nothing to do with me, mate!" But he gave permission and it is his building. This rumbled on through December with no result. I paid a lawyer €250 to try to negotiate a deal. My option was to go the Town Hall and report the building works. I phoned the planning office early in December and they confirmed that no building work is allowed on the roof but that I would have to do a "denuncia", in other words to report it to the local police. I hesistated for a long time doing this as it would obviousy hurt the neighbours more than Pablo. But after a short visit back to Girona just before Christmas, I went to the police at the end of the year and we fashioned a single page of A4, basically telling the story. I knew that it then went to the Town Hall Planning Department, a few doors down the road from the police. But then nothing happened until April.....</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Meantime, it was back to the drawing board for me and while this was all going on, I started to look at flats again. The choice is quite simple really, there are various parts of Arrecife which are quite distant from the centre. Argana Alta is a bus ride away and not such a nice area, surrounded by an industrial estate. There are touristy places outside the city such as Costa Teguise and Playa Honda which obviously didn't appeal to me. I was getting desperate. I really didn't want to go back to Girona having failed to buy a place here. I had bought a bike here, the coronavirus was nothing like as serious here. By this time, I was staying in Hostel San Ginés which is close to el Charco, an inland harbour (but sea-water, of course). The staff at the hostel were so friendly, I guess I was there a little over 3 weeks, eating out most evenings in a super bar and restaurant called la Rustica.<br /><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO3RPIrZZR4nAiaitmFklTZ54n9P95jc1WomB9yyGxk6orhdqYH0jh4EoZtt0T40q7Y7UtwSSijC5wi53kmNkenT4GM4RXbDTzY7NTnyw3FWHb4p0zrF8O3gQKXgpvGEf6F45VAFx4yuUY/s2048/IMG-20201107-WA0011%255B1%255D.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO3RPIrZZR4nAiaitmFklTZ54n9P95jc1WomB9yyGxk6orhdqYH0jh4EoZtt0T40q7Y7UtwSSijC5wi53kmNkenT4GM4RXbDTzY7NTnyw3FWHb4p0zrF8O3gQKXgpvGEf6F45VAFx4yuUY/s320/IMG-20201107-WA0011%255B1%255D.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Rustica<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /> Sometimes I cooked my supper in the hostel, there was a kitchen area but it was only really possible if there were no more than two people cooking at the same time.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7jIkji5hTV8wQrU7fCd8aB9eqNsePQG8KZENFEY-XqQMyBJTqW5S5n426kx-I7ByUdbjgvUu6o0KbV1K7NrCbynuV76Cild-bLXDR9n3bCbEj9GXB34QOKarl-h_LiFHwxC88fhwUFm85/s2048/IMG-20201118-WA0002%255B1%255D.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7jIkji5hTV8wQrU7fCd8aB9eqNsePQG8KZENFEY-XqQMyBJTqW5S5n426kx-I7ByUdbjgvUu6o0KbV1K7NrCbynuV76Cild-bLXDR9n3bCbEj9GXB34QOKarl-h_LiFHwxC88fhwUFm85/s320/IMG-20201118-WA0002%255B1%255D.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kitchen in the pensión<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZyc9MvtgaNQO0vIPNOnPfZ44D4c-pyX9oSxwxA3UNyBaiLRDixhqDec2nFg328O9DmZfweM-ejleN-xijR5eEkdF1IzieQjvQ0Oilx5DdjMCYAfcWpXqLvrDiaTmWRZpOmpmAB96-526h/s2048/20201206_163036.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZyc9MvtgaNQO0vIPNOnPfZ44D4c-pyX9oSxwxA3UNyBaiLRDixhqDec2nFg328O9DmZfweM-ejleN-xijR5eEkdF1IzieQjvQ0Oilx5DdjMCYAfcWpXqLvrDiaTmWRZpOmpmAB96-526h/s320/20201206_163036.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">el Charco, Arrecife (untypical sky!)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I was walking by el Charco one day at the end of November and noticed a small estate agent close by. I went inside. "We have a place just up the road, it is €87,000". That was a little over my budget (especially since I was owed €7,700) but we went along to see it. It was perfect, I decided I wanted to buy it on the spot. As we walked back down to his office, I suggested a price of €85,000 on the grounds that I did not require a mortgage, He phoned the owner and my offer was accepted. There was no messing around with a deposit or contract of commitment to buy, all documents were already prepared for the purchase. The flat was empty.<br /><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtfjdiOrUG17eOJiGk8DSsjF9RM49DafN43ZBkc59RIK3TlWjbTfcrr-tyX75bky9yqmw7Ujw1icEfb7_wqSNagKTj6WxuVN_-secQIz-xendwzwfr6vDzHoHlsHn_rHzeUiWWB47tpcP/s2048/IMG-20201211-WA0000%255B1%255D.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtfjdiOrUG17eOJiGk8DSsjF9RM49DafN43ZBkc59RIK3TlWjbTfcrr-tyX75bky9yqmw7Ujw1icEfb7_wqSNagKTj6WxuVN_-secQIz-xendwzwfr6vDzHoHlsHn_rHzeUiWWB47tpcP/s320/IMG-20201211-WA0000%255B1%255D.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">just after moving in<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br />I had no qualms about the structure of the building, it is a modern building on 5 floors with 4 flats per floor and a lift. My flat is on the ground floor. <br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But I only got to see the Compraventa, the contract to buy the flat, the day before I was due to sign with the Notary. I had been given a lawyer (Sergio) as a contact. One lawyer I saw wanted €800 to sign with the Notary and do all the other chores which follow the purchase of a flat. But I was happy to do that, it was fun. I sent the document to Sergio but I heard nothing back by the time I went to bed, so I was getting quite anxious, the meeting with the Notary was at 11am next day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">At 2.30am I was woken by my phone flickering. It was Sergio writing a message in WhatsApp. Then he started sending voice messages. What he was saying was that the contract was basically fraudulent and that I would have to pay taxes on the increase in value of the flat during the previous 10 years. He told me to lie to the estate agent, saying that I was ill, or had the coronavirus, and he would meet me the following Monday. This was the night of Thursday and Friday and he was in Madrid.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">This went on for about an hour. At some stage I suppose I got back to sleep which was a miracle. Next morning, I changed my return flight to Catalunya, I cancelled the bank cheque for €85k and when his office opened, I went to see the estate agent. His reply was astonishment, "Do you imagine we, or the company selling the flat would do such a thing? Our reputation would be lost." (Well, actually I thought the same which is why I ignored Sergio's advice. But I really didn't know what to think. I had been cheated once in this town).<br /><br />Then I put him on to Sergio and they chatted on the phone. By this time it was about 10am. I think the Notary made a small change to the text but I never checked it. I went back to the bank to obtain a new cheque. The manager was out but finally I got the cheque just in time to go directly to the Notary. The rest was an anti-climax. I sat with David the owner in the Notary's office. He ran through the document, we signed it, I handed over the cheque and David gave me the keys.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">In any case, I need not have worried. A Notary is a lawyer too and is there to protect both parties. I had to pay another €60 for the second cheque but I never paid Sergio anything and he didn't ask. That's a pretty good deal, buying a flat with legal costs of €60 (but I paid the Notary fees of course - €450).<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I went to the flat in trepidation. Maybe I had made a big mistake, maybe it was smaller than I had imagined, maybe there were noisy neighbours. It was perfect. All the furniture had been taken away and the lounge and kitchen area is a huge square - now full of all my stuff! Sometimes I dance around the space while I am cooking my supper, it is so big!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">There is a small room for my washing
machine on the roof and a parking space in the garage (which I use for
my bike!) I didn't have to buy anything for the kitchen but I did buy a
new washing machine, the old one was completely dead. Oh, and I bought a
new water heater because the installed one had a fixed temperature of
75c which was painfully hot.<br /><br /></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FeGpbUkCJ64Ezhi1PMdJQqO6VwP6Q49HlsP_83BLhxFG1UhLnbqjDF2UfEFTcovVk806Sxe8RK-xhdskQCVsV_kHRkifwMplywV4RZtU1se783PuMHmI9vLUcezcsPNvd3w9HeKE0vPZ/s2048/IMG-20210215-WA0002%255B1%255D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FeGpbUkCJ64Ezhi1PMdJQqO6VwP6Q49HlsP_83BLhxFG1UhLnbqjDF2UfEFTcovVk806Sxe8RK-xhdskQCVsV_kHRkifwMplywV4RZtU1se783PuMHmI9vLUcezcsPNvd3w9HeKE0vPZ/s320/IMG-20210215-WA0002%255B1%255D.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Now you will be wanting to know what happened with the denuncia with the local police. Around the beginning of April I received a thick envelope from the Town Hall, an informe. It told me of their action against the neighbours which was positively draconian, it included photos of the building work (obviously more advanced than in my photo), one from a drone to show the building in its natural state. It spoke of a "grave" infringement of the law, it spoke of big fines, tens of thousands of euros. It demanded that the work stops. And it required a reply from the neighbours within 15 days. But I am still waiting to hear further news.<br /><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYANsoyl5gLlkDHtn_pmcSgXQ8sYtQnAjzJHoS4Sl2fZo-s8Q9ITLcRtOrLAm9TWr2v4Y7X44pJxSDkNVFSuRWNsnMLsULzweagJTUJ2VkV5Qb1A36hVV6P1tjSZlcFddLM-g3nnGeWFRE/s2048/IMG-20201211-WA0011%255B1%255D.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYANsoyl5gLlkDHtn_pmcSgXQ8sYtQnAjzJHoS4Sl2fZo-s8Q9ITLcRtOrLAm9TWr2v4Y7X44pJxSDkNVFSuRWNsnMLsULzweagJTUJ2VkV5Qb1A36hVV6P1tjSZlcFddLM-g3nnGeWFRE/s320/IMG-20201211-WA0011%255B1%255D.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After. But now there is more furniture!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">For me, it makes me sad (but not for long). My case is against Pablo, not the neighbours. But they had the whole of December between them to offer me a deal and, in that case, I would not have done the denuncia. And the building work would have gone unnoticed. The Town Hall knew about the works from when I first phoned them but they said that I had to make the denuncia for them to take action.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The last lawyer I contacted quoted me €3,000 to initiate legal proceedings against Pablo but there were many options to be added along the way. This would have been a cloud over my life here. But she suggested the Ilustre Colegio de Abogados de Lanzarote. I didn't know that they provide free proceedings and I didn't think that I would qualify anyway. But that is the stage where I am now. They have approved my application and there is one remaining document which I have to provide (always one missing document in Spain!) I now have that document but I have to wait for my next meeting on 5th May to give it to them.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p> <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFulB13TwKIpf97kqiSjCHsKA01938kxcf3s75vDQZ0j2vtNAfpt4Z0rln6SJxzCl1UCxue2sa5_McQyuGdi474TlS48ZOnj1PsD8HBfcQxvIDzKv3BlFlVkqGa0B3AWMEWZVED0bQ84vg/s4896/P1000663.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4896" data-original-width="3672" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFulB13TwKIpf97kqiSjCHsKA01938kxcf3s75vDQZ0j2vtNAfpt4Z0rln6SJxzCl1UCxue2sa5_McQyuGdi474TlS48ZOnj1PsD8HBfcQxvIDzKv3BlFlVkqGa0B3AWMEWZVED0bQ84vg/s320/P1000663.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Music Stand on the sea front</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-43512342503510737462020-11-27T14:18:00.003+01:002021-03-28T12:14:40.291+02:00Another Great Adventure<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">I really don't know where to start because I am in a great adventure and it still has a long time to play out. I'm in Arrecife, Lanzarote, in the Canary Islands. I came here ostensibly to escape the strict lockdown in Catalunya but always in the back of my mind was a plan to buy a small flat here to use during the winter.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have a joke with Orlinda, my Colombian friend, that I have found Colombia in Spain. The weather is never really cold but, of course, Colombia is more beautiful. In fact, you can read about our holiday in the ajoining island of Fuerteventura in this blog. But Arrecife is much bigger than the main city in Fuerteventura, Puerto de la Rosada. It has a superb bus service going to many places in the island and there are many bike routes along the coast (One of the first things I did was to buy myself a bike). </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had a fantastic summer in Catalunya, it was very hot which is no problem for me. I either went swimming at Colera or Llançà or I went to the pool in Celrà. They had a booking system to limit numbers but there was always space and often I had the pool all to myself. After the start of the first lockdown, I started painting and then summer arrived and the rules were lifted. Masks to be worn everywhere but they were not required on the beach. Then the autumn arrived and with it a second lockdown. By the time October arrived, I was getting very bored and depressed. I had no interest in painting and all I did was watch Netflix or read books.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had to look back at my calendar to check when I came here. I had my flu jab on 15th October and then I booked a flight on 26th. But the rules were getting very strict and then I received an email from Vueling to ask, "do I really want to travel, bearing in mind the coronavirus". And the email gave me a simple "click" to cancel the flight, which is what I did. Then I re-booked for the first week in November. But that was a mistake also as, in November the rules became very tight, especially about closing the borders of Catalunya. So I changed my flight back to the 26th and here I am!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I started out in a large Blue Sea hotel in Costa Teguise which is about 10km from the centre of Arrecife, to the north. It was cheap, there were quite a few British tourists, some were overweight, noisy and sometimes drunk. There was a regular bus into the centre of the city and I could go swimming in a local beach which was partly artificial to leave a super swimming spot.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidyFfdKJH0LGVHPaEyPDEjuQQE4Uc-gJHQscVhfSyIGr9bfQc471TQgth06CMbKIgOh5haQjIGmq7KBPJlYgHBB9409RcWLb5U8Rl92IoddxECIzarQWQlUVuxyHniPUeX5ajFArkEvx_D/s2048/20201030_112440.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidyFfdKJH0LGVHPaEyPDEjuQQE4Uc-gJHQscVhfSyIGr9bfQc471TQgth06CMbKIgOh5haQjIGmq7KBPJlYgHBB9409RcWLb5U8Rl92IoddxECIzarQWQlUVuxyHniPUeX5ajFArkEvx_D/s320/20201030_112440.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">The weather was superb but I soon got bored in the hotel, it was obviously geared up for many tourists but of course, there were very few when I was there. And then after about 10 days the hotel closed. I moved to Arrecife, to Hotel Mirarmar which as its name suggests, was in front of the sea. Here are a couple of photos of sunrise at about 7am from the balcony of the room. The first is with my phone and the second with my Lumix camera which has zoom of course.<br /></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh1m-4UeXAX21zJvDPBfSbbVg8byyRho6FGDR0ipO6_V_Tg8DElxrEVH-tdNBUza-ly4thij5b66oIZ8c0SWXB-sMJQhfcVQPteoOj4bbgq2nY6bJoqncQ-DCXhUwEFl07CaqSOK92hIYb/s2048/20201103_071439.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh1m-4UeXAX21zJvDPBfSbbVg8byyRho6FGDR0ipO6_V_Tg8DElxrEVH-tdNBUza-ly4thij5b66oIZ8c0SWXB-sMJQhfcVQPteoOj4bbgq2nY6bJoqncQ-DCXhUwEFl07CaqSOK92hIYb/s320/20201103_071439.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL46g-Ild_EDWICodVVYHzUnyBc0CObpBcsVIGWGQiAC8_F8h25wlyPxP8a9mhC2iVIUq7T3SNGsTmO3GbczJysHDuUs1GRyFgnYgYosdtK8Qjc9TfLlVSgk83tFxItX8KwbPSoscsgDCq/s4896/P1000638.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL46g-Ild_EDWICodVVYHzUnyBc0CObpBcsVIGWGQiAC8_F8h25wlyPxP8a9mhC2iVIUq7T3SNGsTmO3GbczJysHDuUs1GRyFgnYgYosdtK8Qjc9TfLlVSgk83tFxItX8KwbPSoscsgDCq/s320/P1000638.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here is another interesting image from the port between Costa Teguise and Arrecife.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjF1mufFG8hKi0Zm1vJo-Kw_sx_sy1-zdJIfX5wl9v-5kC_DcpO71Vq7bKeaKL5O2P_9ilMX51jdaqOJfMw8eHQf1jGNL08fVnmvCZAyUxmK0ZXNR9kXvWTeETR_DpRGNzWWI0880AUhjC/s4896/P1000630.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjF1mufFG8hKi0Zm1vJo-Kw_sx_sy1-zdJIfX5wl9v-5kC_DcpO71Vq7bKeaKL5O2P_9ilMX51jdaqOJfMw8eHQf1jGNL08fVnmvCZAyUxmK0ZXNR9kXvWTeETR_DpRGNzWWI0880AUhjC/s320/P1000630.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">By the time I arrived in Arrecife, I had seen several flats which I had browsed from my home in Catalunya but I had decided on one, a first floor flat in a new building in the zone called Altavista. But the other upstairs neighbours who had already signed with the Notario, had exclusive use of the flat roof (azotea in Spanish). So there was no point in having the upstairs flat if I couldn't use the azotea. I chose the downstairs flat on the right.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2eGyrvL5_OFG0QLpiVigjeCbT4oyu8l0UE9yTBGhAcTUlgBDl4hY8LFqKNPewegwtXFh1jOfnPyc7VlCYbI8SaqskE_0iD0o8etKa4qc4EXtwxB3wvGs5P4iH6xkqpE29poPXfpCO5QZ/s4896/P1000628.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2eGyrvL5_OFG0QLpiVigjeCbT4oyu8l0UE9yTBGhAcTUlgBDl4hY8LFqKNPewegwtXFh1jOfnPyc7VlCYbI8SaqskE_0iD0o8etKa4qc4EXtwxB3wvGs5P4iH6xkqpE29poPXfpCO5QZ/s320/P1000628.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">The price was €77,000 which I knew was on the high side. But the proprietor agreed to install a kitchen although I had to supply the electrical parts. The estate agent drew up a Nota Simple which is a commitment to purchase a flat, I showed it to my lawyer in Girona and then went ahead and signed it and paid a deposit of €7,700.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I forgot to mention, I also paid for a technical survey to check that the building was sound, which cost me €300.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I will tell you more later!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span><br /></p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-69028493225454998042020-05-11T11:38:00.012+02:002021-07-09T20:57:36.770+02:00My Novel - Logic Park<p><i><span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif"> I am writing a novel but it is slow work! So I thought I would publish the first chapter here to see if there is any reaction! So far, I have written about 20k words (here, there are 2480 words) but a regular paperback is about 5 times that. This is only a draft, of course. And I need to format the dialogue.</span></i><br />
<i><span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif"><br /></span></i>
<i><span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif">In theory, I should be writing a lot because I am in lockdown but I miss the stimulation of real life, people-watching is a great source for a novel!</span></i></p><p><i><span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif">More ideas about writing can be found at <a href="https://www.girona-writers.es/" target="_blank">Girona Writers</a>! </span></i><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif"><br /></span>
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif"><br /></span>
<br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif">A Grey November afternoon at 4pm in Carcassonne, for one particular Englishman was reminiscent of London because it was much the same but maybe a little warmer. At 4pm most people are hoping that the night will arrive rapidly, then at least it’s dark on account of there being no sun rather than its being obscured by a thick mantel of cloud with spray of fine drizzle beneath it. It almost had a Dickensian feel about it, one almost expected to see a lamp-lighter wandering among the street-lights. <br /><br />It was a Sunday which accounted for the absence of traffic. The road glistened. What traffic that did pass along Avenue General Leclerc, did so silently or with a strange symphony (or maybe a cacophony) of musical sounds on account of this being 2030 and the internal combustion engine being history in most major cities. Most people these days sampled their car sounds from the internet rather in the same way that people used to download ring-tones for their phones. For sure the air was cleaner but it didn’t lift the oppressive feeling of doom. The bare trees seemed to be weeping.<br /><br />A dark blue electric Brum i4 pulled up at the kerb. It also emanated a strange ethereal sound reducing in pitch as it came to a stop, but very dated, as if from a computer movie in the 1980s. Thomas Leadsom was in his 60s so it was either nostalgia or that he hadn’t yet mastered how to update the sounds. He took a few moments to check that he had the right location and then looked up the nearest available parking on his screen. Naturally, his car could make all the decisions for him but he still preferred to impose his wish to park off-road. He addressed his car in a firm and authoritative voice, “Park in Parking Gambetta, it’s back across the bridge”. The car replied with a cheery “OK” and a waving emoji on the screen. <br /><br />When he first bought the car in 2022, he would never have dared send it off to some parking lot, but on account of his growing fame it had been updated free of charge by Brum with new sensors and, of course, the software had been updated on a regular basis. Then two years ago, his battery was replaced with one of the new Plasform power-packs (the word “battery” by that time had a very dated feel about it). With the new power-pack, he could charge the car almost as quickly as one used to take to refill a car with gasoline, and it had a range of 300km. But many people worried about these new power-packs. After all, they still contained the same energy as a tank full of gasoline, they were physically smaller than the old lithium batteries and rapid charging put great stress on the whole system.<br /><br />He reached behind his seat for a small folder of papers and eased himself out of the car. He shut the door and immediately it moved off towards its parking space, humming in an ascending scale to itself as it went. He was casually dressed, jeans and a shirt with a thick sweater and a bomber jacket to keep out the damp cold air. The Prison, Maison d’Arrêt lay towards la Cité outside the centre of the town, Thomas thought how similar in appearance it was to Wormwood Scrubs which he knew well from visiting clients. Maybe the prison featured in movies and TV series as was the case with The Scrubs. As he approached the gates to the prison, he realised, of course that numerous cameras were now plotting his progress and analysing who he was. Thomas Alvarez Lendsom, 62, British, lawyer, married with two children, lives in Hampstead, London. In the UK, ID cards had finally been accepted so the trawling of information was even easier. People realised that they had given so much about themselves in social media and online that there was really very little more that they could give away. But the research on this visitor went further. From his profile in Silicon Valley, the prison was able to create a complete picture of the man. And because he had been in all the newspapers and TV outside the law courts, le Cour d’Assises, on Friday, the prison quickly came to the conclusion that he had come to visit his client. Or “ex-client” because they had parted acrimoniously as he was led down to start his sentence and as Thomas went out to attempt to explain to the press why his client had had a “James Ratner” moment, an act of hari-kari. Norman Prensel had destroyed his case in a few short moments giving the judges an early start to their weekend, for which they were thankful - the case had already dragged on for 15 days.<br /><br />Thomas had hoped to visit his client, his ex-, without anyone knowing, but some hope of that. There was a small group of people outside the jail wall, some he supposed were friends or family of inmates but one or two looked suspiciously like journalists. He walked up briskly to the police officer at the gate and explained who he was and the purpose of his visit, although that was hardly necessary. It was possible that the policeman knew more about him than he knew himself. Was his wife having an affair while he was spending so much time in France? It was the hour of normal visiting and he had already checked with Norman’s family to see if they planned on visiting him.The policeman at the entrance gave Thomas an ID on a lanyard, the photo it took from their own database, and a wristband. He gave up his mobile phone.<br /><br />He was led to a small room by a prison warder where he found a motley bunch of sad looking people waiting to see their loved ones (or maybe their confederates to ask where they hid the money). Thomas took a seat next to a very large woman in a floral dress. He picked up a copy of Paris Match and there at page 4 was a report on the court case, the trial of Norman Prensel, world-famous entrepreneur and bon viveur, now brought low, not by the law which his lawyer was skillfully manipulating but by a seemingly rash statement at his trial. That was why Thomas was at the jail rather than heading for home, that would have to wait. But then he doubted what would happen. Their conversation would not be direct but via an electronic link and any sound or unusual actions would immediately be picked up by the artificial intelligence. His face, his emotions would be picked up by the software. In public, face recognition was still a controversial subject, more so as it became more sophisticated. But in a prison, anything goes!<br /><br />He imagined Norman being brought from his cell to the meeting room, maybe he wouldn’t want to see him and what could they talk about anyway. The weather? But, yes, Norman was happy to meet, after about 15 minutes, a warder called his name and took him down a dark corridor to the meeting room. As he opened the door, Thomas saw Norman but not as he was accustomed to seeing him. Of course, now, he was wearing a prison uniform but previously he was always impeccably dressed in a dark suit, tie and white shirt. He walked up to the screen where Norman was seated, he said “Hello” and Norman responded. Then followed a little small talk before Thomas put the big question, “Why did he do it?”. Not the crime itself but the virtual confession when Thomas had almost got him off the charges. This was the question on everyone’s lips. But he knew that Norman could not reply as it would have been picked up immediately and for sure leaked to the press. Norman looked back at him with a blank look on his face and a Gallic shrug of the shoulders. But then he smiled, this was not expected. And his smile cautiously drew Thomas’s eyes down to his hands which were clasped on the table in front of him. And then Thomas saw it. From the wrist up to the first knuckle of his right hand was a string of letters and numbers, about 12 in all. He reached in his wallet as if to consult his documents but drew out a sheet of paper and a pen and casually wrote down the string of letters. He had to write it down although he had no idea what it meant, maybe some kind of code that he could present to his clever mathematical friends in the UK. The vigilance in that room was so tight that he feared that at any moment his writing would be discovered. Norman looked back at him blankly and gave him one or two phone numbers which were obviously bogus just to camouflage the vital text. <br /> </span><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif">Then, out of the blue, Norman said, “My penis is tiny”. Just that. Well, Thomas had never had the opportunity to judge that, either flaccid or erect. Norman, he knew was gay but he was happily married so there was no question of anything happening between them. And then he said, “You are lawyer”. Not “You are a lawyer” which would make more sense and the former was not English in any case. But he was smart enough to realise that this was also a coded message. He didn’t even risk winking his eye, he just looked blankly back across the screen and continued to chat about the weather. And so they continued, just chatting but obviously Norman had passed something important to Thomas. The time came for him to leave, they said their goodbyes and as Thomas reached the door, he looked back to see Norman surreptitiously wiping the letters from his hand, making out that he was wringing his hands in sadness. And that was the last time either of them saw each other for a number of reasons but one in particular.<br /><br />Thomas retrieved his phone and escaped out into the street again, it was 5.30pm and he checked for messages. There were very many, most of which he ignored. There were several which noted that he had visited the prison and which were requesting an interview. And the crowd had certainly increased in number, and they were not all visiting friends and relatives, that was for sure. There were two large and powerful motorbikes at the kerb and several guys hanging around with expensive looking cameras. A microphone was thrust into his face, “What did he say?” He felt vulnerable without his car so he started walking briskly in the direction of the main boulevard where he had sent his car. The press pack followed and jostled him. “You had your day on Friday, leave me alone!” he cried. He called up his car and it responded, “I will pay with the disk on the windscreen”, it replied, “Don’t worry”. Somehow his own car had caught wind of the pressure he was under, he supposed it was the tone of his voice unless the car watches TV. Maybe it was, inanimate objects, all connected to the internet-of-everything have been getting uncomfortably smart. He cursed at the journalists and paparazzi in the most vulgar French he could think of and continued walking. When he reached the bridge which crossed the River Aude, he saw a familiar blue car approaching slowly as if looking out for someone. He flung the folder in behind the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut and gratefully drove away in the direction of the autoroute which would take him to Toulouse. But he had not shaken off the two motorcyclists and he also became aware of a black Mercedes which he had seen parked by the prison, He had dismissed it as obviously not being press. He couldn’t make out the registration mark but it was neither French nor British, he thought he saw a blue and yellow stripe next to the number. <br /><br />After just over 10 minutes, he arrived at the A61 autoroute. Naturally the traffic was very “fluide” as the gantry signs told him, but he was still being harassed by the two motorcycles. And the Mercedes was still there as well. He tried changing lanes but apart from increasing speed which would obviously have attracted a ticket, this was the only thing he could do. This motley little convoy continued to Toulouse where the number became A62, this was his target for getting out of France and heading for home. The two motorcycles had given up, it was obvious that he was heading back to Calais so there was no point in chasing him any further. About 5km out of Toulouse, he pulled off to recharge the power-pack and visit the toilet. As he got back into the car, he remembered the coded letters that Norman had given him. He took the paper out of the wallet and sat thinking. Tiny penis, tiny, tiny. What is the clue there? And, “you are lawyer”. He wrote the words on the paper, folded it and put it in his top pocket. He would have to work that out later or during the boring hours of travel ahead. He didn’t see the Mercedes slip out of the lay-by 50m behind him.<br /><br />Very soon he was passing the airport, he was tired but his spirits were lifting. He was happy to be going home. After about 10km, when he was close to the maximum of 120kph, something strange happened. There was a shock and a loud bang in the front of the car and suddenly he was upside down about 2m above the central reservation, at high speed. The car dropped rapidly to the ground onto its roof, spinning twice, into the fast lane of the opposing traffic and the collision with the camper-van was unavoidable. There was silence. All traffic stopped with the exception of a black Mercedes which slipped by unnoticed as it headed north. People jumped out of their cars and attempted to drag Thomas out of the car. He was obviously seriously hurt but, even in these electric days, people still feared a fire. They laid him on the road and within a few seconds, the power pack, punctured by the armco exploded sending fire and a plume of smoke into the night. When the medics arrived, there was very little they could do. At first, they didn’t even put him in the ambulance, it was obvious that by now he was dead.</span><br />
<br /></p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-42801673643823809972020-03-28T14:00:00.000+01:002020-05-11T11:49:18.070+02:00A life online<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This leads on for my previous post about Instagram. Now, I can do only one operation per day before I am blocked for another 24 hours. I can't even join an artist who has "liked" me before getting the dreaded message about protecting the community. So today, I put up my 5 new pictures of Cadaqués and Port Lligat which I painted at the request of Josep at Ad Mundi, the gift shop in Girona Train Station. Of course, the shop is closed and I will have little opportunity to sell my cards for quite some time. And, being my first action today, the pictures have "stuck". One artist commented on my profile that the same thing happened to her when she joined and she said just to be patient. I can see that what I did was slightly different from the majority of people who join Instagram.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Well I am in no great hurry. I wanted to put some of my existing photos on Instagram, which I have now done, but my main objective was to paint with the theme of the coronavirus, so I will let the annoying algorithm at Instagram calm down a bit. It obviously thinks I am a robot of some kind. Obviously it is not a very smart algorithm because it is obvious that I am a genuine artist. But I guess they get thousands of bogus entries every day on account of it being so huge. I did write a note to them but what hope of a human actually reading it?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So where are my ideas going? As I said before, I want to paint positive images, to show the coronavirus being defeated. I have lots of ideas but one idea came to mind as I was doodling with images of weird machines producing an antidote. I have two books of pictures by two famous artists of the 20th Century, Rowland Emett and Heath Robinson. I actually joined the Rowland Emett Society in the UK a couple of years ago. I have, "The Early Morning Milk Train" by Emett and "Wonderful Contraptions and Extraordinary Inventions" by Heath Robinson, both of which I bought on Amazon. Of course, Emett went on to build many of his machines, and the trains which carried people around The Festival of Britain in 1951 were his designs.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, one of my ideas is to paint wonderful machines to defeat the virus. But I have many other ideas. I joined Pinterst too.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My life is online now! I actually feel calmer these days. Maybe social interaction is stressful for me, I often thought so. Staying for an extra beer at the bar, and then not sleeping well. Meeting people and talking is actually an effort for me. It is enjoyable most of the the time but it doesn't come naturally. To create words, even in my own language, requires an effort of concentration and I am sure it is not like that for everyone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As a reminder, my account at Instagram is <a href="http://www.instagram.com/steve.meza.es">http://www.instagram.com/steve.meza.es</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My online name normally is steve.meza but that was already taken on Instagram, so I added the .es!</span>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-57461874553658856312020-03-26T15:03:00.000+01:002020-03-28T14:09:29.362+01:00Attempting to join Instagram<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I got back, I decided what to do next, faced with many hours at
home. I am an artist now, previously an electronics engineer - I often
joke about "changing the chip in my head". I thought it would be a
wonderful idea to create positive images about the coronavirus in art, about defeating it rather than being trapped by it. I
did a search in Google, looking for other artists with the same ideas
but to no avail. I tweaked the keywords. I came across an American,
David Goodsell who is a scientist but also an artist. Here is his
website. He paints wonderfully detailed pictures of viruses.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">
</span><a href="https://ccsb.scripps.edu/goodsell/"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">https://ccsb.scripps.edu/goodsell/</span></a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wrote to him with my ideas about bringing together artists to
create positive images about the pandemic but, so far, I haven't
received a reply. But I did write that, if he thought that my ideas were
a little crazy, then there was no need to reply.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I went back to Google and finally found this. Exactly what I was looking for!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a class="moz-txt-link-freetext" href="https://www.politico.eu/interactive/drawing-our-new-normal/">https://www.politico.eu/interactive/drawing-our-new-normal/</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Most of the artists are professional graphic designers, I guess that
Politico looked up a database. I opened up an account in Instagram and
loaded the artists as contacts. Then I hit lots of problems. It is
strange, I guess my brain must be wired differently. Billions of people sign
up to Instagram and also Facebook without problems but I really cannot
get on well with either of them. To me, they are like bossy
schoolteachers. I guess I made two mistakes. One was to log in with my
computer because my screen is much larger, but Instagram is really organised around the phone (although it does allow log-in from a PC). The other mistake was to
start off by uploading about 10 or 11 of my paintings in order to get
started. Every time I logged in with my computer, I got the same warning
email message that "..someone is logging in from Girona...". But they could
see that it was the same computer each time. I created a second account
to test the system. After uploading my 10 pictures, later in the day, I
tried uploading a further single picture. Every time, after about 10
minutes, it was removed, either by a person or by some fiendish
algorithm.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This morning, I tried again. The image stayed for about an hour, a
record! So I tried to edit it by writing a commentary. This was refused,
but this time I received a message saying that my account was blocked
for 24 hours to prevent damage to the users of Instagram. It was a
painting of a cathedral! And then the image was taken down again.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My account is at <a href="http://www.instagram.com/steve.meza.es">http://www.instagram.com/steve.meza.es</a> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I always knew that I was a little weird but not <i>that</i> weird. For much
of my professional life, I wrote software and the part that took the
most time was taking account of the the person who was using the
software and the mistakes they could make. It is called
"error-trapping". Making software function was relatively easy if one
discounted the human element. But It appears to me that there is little
or no error-trapping in the software of Instagram. If you make a
mistake, your only recourse is to go to Google and do a search for, "why
is Instagram deleting my posts?" because one gets dumped with no
message to say what went wrong. And there are very many such links!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To me, this is lazy programming. I will wait 24 hours because my
project is to paint new pictures and that will take more than 24 hours.
But, really... I suppose I am on a different planet. When I wrote
software, it attempted to have good manners! If the user did something
wrong, it always gave them a way back. But to be really honest, sometimes it was the Reset button!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>Update, 27th March</b>. I managed to upload the image of Rainy Day in Girona after the block was lifted. I tried to add a description and was immediately blocked again for 24 hours.The question now is whether the image remains (with its original caption which is simply the title of the painting). Why are they so convinced that I am a bot? Or, more to the point, why are they being so thoroughly unpleasant?</span>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-47432309664957528482020-03-25T17:23:00.001+01:002020-04-22T12:35:37.671+02:00Trapped in Fuerteventura by the Coronavirus<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I guess it is about a month ago that I came on holiday here in Fuerteventura with my friend Orlinda. She had 2 weeks holiday and was very keen on coming to the Canary Islands. I looked at flights between 11th and 21st Feburary (or 10th to 20th). Even at this time there were rumblings of problems in Europe about the coronavirus, a single case in La Gomera. I made a chart showing flights to various islands, some were cheap to go but expensive to return. In the end I decided on Fuerteventura and bought the flights - outgoing on Ryanair and returning with Vueling. I booked the whole period in Caleta Fuste because I thought it would make a good central base, I had seen the resort publicised in the RENFE rail magazine but in fact it was full of English tourists. Many of the people working in the bars were English and in fact some of them only spoke English.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaWDy0mjDqHyzGTzPwQ-umQv6pmvHXmc_d1foT70GFckNqHh3gkFDNxzvEZ_JXMdMGV14wcxJMvWjASj51XJRwqTDrdcYNpsRGpiUB27NKsNmO4igg_vALSnJ-J8FsiAuO89eUtAsukpgq/s1600/IMG-20191007-WA0000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaWDy0mjDqHyzGTzPwQ-umQv6pmvHXmc_d1foT70GFckNqHh3gkFDNxzvEZ_JXMdMGV14wcxJMvWjASj51XJRwqTDrdcYNpsRGpiUB27NKsNmO4igg_vALSnJ-J8FsiAuO89eUtAsukpgq/s320/IMG-20191007-WA0000.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I wanted to add a photo of Orlinda but I can't find a decent one from the holiday. <br />
Here she is in the Rambla in Girona.</div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I booked a "casita" which is the normal type of holiday residence here, a chalet. It was excellent value for money at €40 a night, but later I found casitas even cheaper. The weather was not brilliant, especially when we went to Coralejo which is right in the north of the island. The sky was cloudy with a brisk north wind. Worst, we argued about something or other which made for an unhappy day. Things looked up when we decided to take the bus to Morro Jable in the far south of the island. When the time came to take the bus back at 3.45pm, neither of us wanted to return to windy Caleta Fuste so I looked up hotels and found Blue Sea at €60 for the night. But we were not prepared to stay the night, nether of us had our passports and I had my NIE which doesn't include a photo, so it is not a real ID. A NIE is my certificate to show that I am resident in Spain. But this was not acceptable to the rather scholl-mistressy receptionist. So she phoned the Guarda Civil. She asked us to wait for a few moments, I though that it was in order to prepare the rooms but all of a sudden, two police arrived on motor-bikes, went up to reception and then came over to speak to us. We had a pleasant conversation, I explained how we liked Morro Jable so much and finally they relented and allowed us to check-in on the strength of my NIE. A few seconds later, a police car pulled up but I guess their colleagues explained that all had been settled.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The following night, I offered to go back to Caleta Fuste to collect our essential items, incluing our passports of course and Orlinda could stay in Morro Jable if she paid for her room. I lent her €100. I guess Blue Sea was fully booked for the second night but Orlinda was busy chatting on her phone to a pension just up the road. I took the last bus back at 3.45 and when I got back, we chatted on WhatsApp. She was on the beach and very happy. Next morning I went back at 9.15, arriving around 11. Orlinda had slept very badly but it was not a surprise, the pension was very cheap! Some of the time, Blue Sea was fully booked so we ended up in a huge luxurious hotel slightly out of the centre beyond the lighthouse. Again, it did not comprise rooms but lots of small casitas on a hill. In the evening we had supper in the restaurant which was excellent. We went to the terrace at the top of Robinson Hotel and took loads of photos. I walked into the pool because it was not lit. But it was only 10cm deep so I didn't fall in, but it was a shock all the same! (You can see a photo of that pool later in this post). We spent happy times on the beach, I discovered a section of beach which was more "free" than the main section but since most tourists were German, we often saw people nude. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Orlinda didn't join me. </span>But Caleta Fuste was strictly not nude, very English! But here is the link to my second holiday. And the second link was that, in a way, we had discovered "Colombia" but only three hours away. Maybe I could buy a small flat here. I have left out many details of our holiday because I wanted to tell you about how the coronavirus gradually took over my second visit to Fuerteventura and how I almost ended up living in the street. I am writing this section before I actually return to the Peninsula so I will write about that when I am back home which hopefully will be tomorrow. But I am getting ahead of myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When we returned to Girona, Orlinda went back to work and I sent €70 to a company in Italy to place an order for paper for my greetings cards but they were slow in seeing the payment and, by the time they told me to send the shipping agent, it was too late because I had booked a flight to go back to Fuerteventura on the 7th March. So I told them to hang onto the paper until I got back. But by this time the storm was brewing, especially in Italy. In a way, I was foolish to go away but I felt safe in that the Canary Islands are part of Spain, I wasn't going abroad. But little did I know how huge the crisis would become and how that the islands of Spain were effectively cast off from the Peninsula as if they were a foreign country. As you can possibly gather, I will have a long wait for that paper and in any case, I now have little opportunity to sell my cards as the shops are now closed of course.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But I have always been a little gung-ho! I had been depressed and bored for several months. I took many weeks to complete new designs for Ad Mundi, the shop in Girona Railway Station. I thought that if I went away again, I would get more inspiration. So on Saturday 7th March I went back to Fuerteventura on a cheap one-way ticket. The photo below is in Fuerteventura Beach Club in Caleta Fuste. This was the first time I wore a dress in public, it was lots of fun. Many people think that I am gay but it is not so. There is a big difference between how one feels inside and the people one is attracted to. I love women, I guess that makes me lesbian!</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53g4XPDqnK0iCooKpq3T4DBERMsCeniUVWwLHuPn41hN5ZirL924q-vXe8lbv1XlyYQq822a3yk8fAzYOoOQmh2JKJOZdJitZnzdouJ_kfK1veHJNMRgxQ6izOh9gNx9nFaH2zAINYskX/s1600/20200308_115106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53g4XPDqnK0iCooKpq3T4DBERMsCeniUVWwLHuPn41hN5ZirL924q-vXe8lbv1XlyYQq822a3yk8fAzYOoOQmh2JKJOZdJitZnzdouJ_kfK1veHJNMRgxQ6izOh9gNx9nFaH2zAINYskX/s320/20200308_115106.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I spent 2 nights in Caleta Fuste before heading for my true destination, Morro Jable. I had taken a light dress to experiment with, meaning I would try wearing it in public. I took one or two photos by the pool but gradually gained courage and started walking around in it. It gave me a great sense of freedom. Those of you who know me know that a large part inside me is female. Often I wear all-female clothes but it is not obvious because they would be trousers and a top. In the summer I can wear female sandals because they fit perfectly. Obviously I never attempt to pass myself off as a woman. That is not important.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqv1KeamaYD-hha4bj2WRuoj2vT67DbGgmFt9_RemhErfX4zYeWqfOukSThYnXjYhsX7VoSt2EIdm3p3ir4Y-8YkFXJDEYa2qrYu5-qQdruDY_399L6TSVbfn7XJbU8OEPw3PfKAHMOico/s1600/20200310_110439.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqv1KeamaYD-hha4bj2WRuoj2vT67DbGgmFt9_RemhErfX4zYeWqfOukSThYnXjYhsX7VoSt2EIdm3p3ir4Y-8YkFXJDEYa2qrYu5-qQdruDY_399L6TSVbfn7XJbU8OEPw3PfKAHMOico/s320/20200310_110439.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On the second day, I took the bus to Morro Jable where I had already reserved an apartment at Blue Sea. I will call it an apartment because there is a small kitchen and a living area in addition to the bedroom. I had a wonderful few days there, I went to my favourite beach every day, I went swimming. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFtNNh1433bJnk88LVQWrRI7Q2uI1iutDXjDT5PGM73b13WVcbM-5va5Q_kB5Uc7RrUScA3xObHiNDy5s7Jy-7WaEqMEJU27oKmD8Uff7-osC9ZNwrtB_QCjeC5gWt-Gv-mYmi0Fc464g/s1600/20200314_120652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFtNNh1433bJnk88LVQWrRI7Q2uI1iutDXjDT5PGM73b13WVcbM-5va5Q_kB5Uc7RrUScA3xObHiNDy5s7Jy-7WaEqMEJU27oKmD8Uff7-osC9ZNwrtB_QCjeC5gWt-Gv-mYmi0Fc464g/s320/20200314_120652.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugsTQyNWIWq0943EIHb3DybE2qIC0CpJszFNFh7bSwEf3ZjWW73g_7RKXNPmhyphenhyphenNJETrDMewzTG8g55A_dUeD27AcxNOGnJ8TklwjN_pHjRshdeI2MTxfD0uaGgA-lsKZCC5KQVKXGOZih/s1600/20200310_114039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugsTQyNWIWq0943EIHb3DybE2qIC0CpJszFNFh7bSwEf3ZjWW73g_7RKXNPmhyphenhyphenNJETrDMewzTG8g55A_dUeD27AcxNOGnJ8TklwjN_pHjRshdeI2MTxfD0uaGgA-lsKZCC5KQVKXGOZih/s320/20200310_114039.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBEeBrf6FsWFl9TJBfl12NU3qPZtr_mHsulkwfq6TlT6F2CqSRLXXdNLKGb8ORqEz6cTnYh1LTE_KBpPbioGvsKVH_Umcayby_gpMIIn_hcYHk7tqT_bJVSBWcJi2d0qDx40ZbDhuC1YP2/s1600/20200317_190809-light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBEeBrf6FsWFl9TJBfl12NU3qPZtr_mHsulkwfq6TlT6F2CqSRLXXdNLKGb8ORqEz6cTnYh1LTE_KBpPbioGvsKVH_Umcayby_gpMIIn_hcYHk7tqT_bJVSBWcJi2d0qDx40ZbDhuC1YP2/s320/20200317_190809-light.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i>I took this photo as I thought it would make an interesting painting. </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Twice in the evening I went to "Sundowner" at the roof bar of Robinson wearing a dress. It is a popular event. The first time I went, when I was with Orlinda, I only had short trousers as we were not expecting to stay the night and they insisted on long trousers which I went out and bought. But no problem if I am wearing a dress, the gate-keeper let me in without hesitation! When I went with Orlinda it was later and dark and all the people were having their supper.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I met some German tourists, Robinson was 100% German-occupied I think, and they invited me back the following night. I was a little bit cheeky because after everyone had gone down to supper, I wandered into the pool area at ground level. There was music and young girls smartly dressed offering champagne and tapas. They beckoned to me to enter but of course I was not resident in the hotel. But I like music, it was great fun, so I went in. Afterwards I wandered into the restaurant. The buffet was huge and spectacular. Hehe, I was tempted for a moment..... Noo, not really, I went back to Blue Sea for my more modest supper.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjA-cfpXFVEKKECoDc1vUhqqa2ihQ7oyNh6myj-rORABUEkpbfROkT5XBmdeCSYdCC1Hh4_AEGR6CoNt4-L-AJn0sTJoYd2K7R_Om06YpdfJaXHYa3PdvcR1WcB-0NPGOk8Yp7q61Q-2yx/s1600/20200313_182131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1186" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjA-cfpXFVEKKECoDc1vUhqqa2ihQ7oyNh6myj-rORABUEkpbfROkT5XBmdeCSYdCC1Hh4_AEGR6CoNt4-L-AJn0sTJoYd2K7R_Om06YpdfJaXHYa3PdvcR1WcB-0NPGOk8Yp7q61Q-2yx/s320/20200313_182131.jpg" width="237" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK08Hmg7REiWgKjoo4NoVVFQK3eY-H_-SQJVjsQxt6C2NmQnPe9tqWWGOjFRdAusnPbK9Z4L27iAaCW6YUJClxI4HSu0L7a3UIcMHTaqwtACY_zgXx9_3yLhaGUVppBP4y0rahG4_y9fv6/s1600/20200313_191144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK08Hmg7REiWgKjoo4NoVVFQK3eY-H_-SQJVjsQxt6C2NmQnPe9tqWWGOjFRdAusnPbK9Z4L27iAaCW6YUJClxI4HSu0L7a3UIcMHTaqwtACY_zgXx9_3yLhaGUVppBP4y0rahG4_y9fv6/s320/20200313_191144.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But then Pedro Sanchez made the declaration of emergency and all of that stopped. The staff in the hotel wore face-masks and, of course, we could only go out to the supermarket or pharmacy. I don't use a face-mask, I have studied in detail how they can help and in a normal environment for a person who is not infected, there is little danger. The dangers as I understand it are either droplets directly from an infected person, or from surfaces where the virus can exist for quite some time. So I became very careful about keeping my distance and regularly washing my hands if I had been touching public spaces. The normal open air does not pose a risk as I understand it. In any case, now I am at home all day and go out maybe every other day.</span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was 10th March that I thought that I should book a flight home. It wasn't really about the virus, I was still quite relaxed in the knowledge that I was in Spain and all the flights appeared to be normal. I booked the regular Vueling flight on Wednesday 18th March. On 14th March the State of Emergency was declared. On the 16th, Vueling cancelled my flight on 18th. It offered me 19th, this quickly changed to 21st, then to next Wednesday. But the State of Emergency didn't prohibit flights to and from the Canary Islands. So I assumed it was for economical motives. They still continued to fly to Gran Canaria. Then I booked a flight with Ryanair for Friday 20th but on the 18th, that was cancelled. As at the time of writing, I have been unable to obtain a refund or a response from Ryanair. Vueling have given me a credit note to be used later in the year if things relax a bit. Well, it will be next winter before I can travel again, for sure. <i>(I added this later..... from home, I just found a page on the Ryanair website where I could request a refund and it accepted both my claims and I printed out the subsequent forms.)</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On the morning of Thursday 19th I woke early in a panic. I was still in Morro Jable, people were leaving the hotel in droves and they were talking about closing. All the staff were wearing face masks which made the situation even more scary. I checked out at 6am and walked to the bus stop in a raging storm. But fortunately at that point it was not raining but it was sure blowing! The bus came at 6.30, there were two other passengers. The driver was a young woman but she was driving very fast and I could feel the bus being pushed around by the wind. It was dark. I connected my seat-belt. I decided to go to the airport but obviously I had no flight. Technically this was breaking the law. But I was very fortunate to do so. It was early, around 8am and the large crowds were to come later for their return flights on package tours. I sat in the airport dejected. In total, my flights had been cancelled 6 times. One couple in the hotel in Morro Jable had taken the ferry to Gran Canaria and had booked the Vueling flight from there. I though of doing the same but much later, I heard that the Vueling flight had been cancelled. I kept my faith with Fuerteventura. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I was wandering around the airport aimlessly watching the huge queues building at the check-ins for flights to the UK and Germany. I looked at the departure board. The only flight showing cancelled was the daily Vueling flight. And then I passed a group of young people speaking Spanish. OK, I know this is Spain but most people travelling were Brits or Germans... a few French. No flights to the Peninsula of Spain. I joined the group because I was very conscious of being alone. They had created a WhatsApp group called "Españoles sin retorno", and were obviously in the same boat as me. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh9mVTS_MrGePrCcr2C6S2LZ83XUonE1zFJbeYkE5xZIV4mbjRvWmf7Fvz9JN_47uHBNPqDAeyyUGnHyCYxIFUSz5JFTvYrEwNFZwF1YFROkN_M7VRT32senUiwNxh-pW9cOoqmWbHeDxc/s1600/IMG-20200319-WA0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="769" data-original-width="1600" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh9mVTS_MrGePrCcr2C6S2LZ83XUonE1zFJbeYkE5xZIV4mbjRvWmf7Fvz9JN_47uHBNPqDAeyyUGnHyCYxIFUSz5JFTvYrEwNFZwF1YFROkN_M7VRT32senUiwNxh-pW9cOoqmWbHeDxc/s320/IMG-20200319-WA0005.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I quickly supplied my phone number. Most had either been let down by Vueling or Ryanair (in my case, both). It is not fair that an airline can simply cancel a flight with no consideration for its clients who are on an island with no alternative way to get home. Our mantra was, We want to return home. Or maybe it is the responsibility of the government. This group was my life-saver. Some of them were sleeping in the airport but I couldn't face that, so after chatting for a while and my promising to stay in touch, I headed back to Caleta Fuste to find a roof for the night. I found a hotel in Booking.com and stayed just one night. They have a super restaurant, normally full of British tourists, so I had my supper there rather than attempt to cook in the casita. Next day I went back to the airport early because the group were being interviewed on local TV and they wanted as many people there to back up our claim. Some of them had bought a huge strip of paper and a can of spray-paint for the camera. Again, technically I was not travelling home as there was no hope of a flight and I was getting very anxious. One or two people were making their own arrangements, for example going to Gran Canaria. I found a flight with Iberia Express for the following Thursday and booked that. Iberia was the only airline allowed to fly into Fuerteventura from the Peninsula. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I went back to Caleta Fuste again and found another hotel made up of casitas which, after much pushing, agreed to rent me a casita until Thursday. I was on the point of paying for the rental when I received a phone call from the tourist office. They had organised a charter flight for Sunday at €185, was I interested? "Of course", I replied, cursing that I had so little faith and had booked the Iberia flight on Thursday. But one has to appreciate the permanent state of anxiety I had been in for the past few days, with the real threat of having no roof over my head. I rapidly changed my booking in the casita to 2 days. The Iberia flight cost me €180 and is non-refundable but they will give me a credit note for use, up to a year in the future. I was pleasantly surprised to receive a credit note for the whole of my last period of 7 days in Blue Sea which amounted to €350 which I can spend in any of their hotels in Spain. I left in a hurry after 3 days but the credit was for 7 days. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTmM_bHB31WCo5w4TB_nOE3SvYOZyVlfEM4_8TMlY4P-xzR4dZXzrUQ2Galm-fJXubJkiyV6ZmixzCr022qlFM0qMqDR8JMUIpYJ7k1xK1m3uYg5hG757tody04IDx7P8t_lalVOJslv_x/s1600/IMG-20200320-WA0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTmM_bHB31WCo5w4TB_nOE3SvYOZyVlfEM4_8TMlY4P-xzR4dZXzrUQ2Galm-fJXubJkiyV6ZmixzCr022qlFM0qMqDR8JMUIpYJ7k1xK1m3uYg5hG757tody04IDx7P8t_lalVOJslv_x/s320/IMG-20200320-WA0004.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixp3Pt-5sWvTC2NQk9RM0w6A4pM6989Mn8kPNcFG_zFQXpsQUUI3Ln87dkl7MSyPBnEZJCUySMSAh1UFHtDTuERen8jVWPxTWjFr64KQwV5XK3724cNfCwan-3WRyHtjZdW8i9Ot0hlDAx/s1600/IMG-20200320-WA0028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixp3Pt-5sWvTC2NQk9RM0w6A4pM6989Mn8kPNcFG_zFQXpsQUUI3Ln87dkl7MSyPBnEZJCUySMSAh1UFHtDTuERen8jVWPxTWjFr64KQwV5XK3724cNfCwan-3WRyHtjZdW8i9Ot0hlDAx/s320/IMG-20200320-WA0028.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So I sent an email to El Corte Inglés in Puerto del Rosario as instructed by the tourist office and in return I received a link to a payment page. A few hours later I received a form online, a bono, as my ticket. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx3OI1OSRkNGGZwF0LlcZlkmOnBYUTfgyV4DxhVDhcuODuWcF38jqlslLRIF226zsfbPCDiZtizFBbbd6sSiw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<i></i>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This was the programme recorded by the local TV station. <br />The group also got exposure on national TV.</span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The casita was very nice but one of the hot-plates in the kitchen tripped the electrical supply so my cooking possibilities were very limited. I was hungry, so I went back to the super restaurant and asked if I could eat there despite not being resident. As it happens, I left quite a generous tip the previous night and they welcomed me the second time. They had a huge buffet counter and probably threw away a lot of it after they closed. It was €18 including unlimited beer and wine. This particular evening was a real low point because at the end of my meal, one of the waiters introduced me to two Spanish guys and a young woman. I told them about the group and the charter flight. I suggested they joined the group. I did ask in a way whether they could join but I let them anyway. Maybe I broke the protocol of WhatsApp groups, I don't know. But he was full of false news. He said that Madrid would be completely blocked (which of course was not true). He wrote various things on the group and then, before I knew it, he had left the group. So... not a nice person. I felt bad. Then the manager of the hotel came up behind me and remonstrated with me for using his precious restaurant when I was not a resident. He said that he would be liable to a fine (as would I). I said that I had asked permission. Technically he was right of course, but I wanted some decent food. So, by now, I felt doubly bad. But as I left, the waiter who I had spoken to before waved me on with a big smile. I didn't have to pay. But I slept very badly that night, all on account of the false news from this guy and feeling rather guilty about using the restaurant.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The following day, Saturday I didn't go to the airport. I went to the bank to get some cash and visited the supermarket. I had a really nice supper with wine, it was a chilled chicken curry which I heated in the microwave oven. It was rather like a good airline meal. I went to bed really early in excitement about the next day. Was I really going home? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I am writing this last part on the high-speed train back to Girona so everything has worked out well. I arrived at the airport at about 7.30. I rescued a damsel in distress. I helped a young Italian woman who was at risk of missing the flight. She was asking people in a panic at about 9am about the link to pay for the flight! Wow, that was a little late. The group she was talking to drifted off to check in at the other end of the airport. She went to the Information desk but they did not know about it. Somehow by magic, the page appeared on her phone. But now she wasn't sure if she had enough money in her account. "I have the cash", she said. The web-page rejected her card. So we used mine and she gave me €185 in cash. She still had a lot of difficulty checking in because it was so late and they didn't have her name but, finally she got through. In fact she was taking an onward flight to Italy, I have forgotten where. But she said the same as me, there is no more secure place in the whole of Europe than Fuerteventura. She was staying in an Airbnb residence and the proprietor suggested that she stayed longer. But in the end, she came to the same conclusion as me, that we had to get out.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The flight left about 25 minutes early. Of course, when the plane arrived in Fuerteventura - it was an Iberia Express A320 - it was empty, it had come to take us home. Obviously on the plane were many people who were not part of the group, who had seen the announcement from the tourist office. I hope I would have done the same. As you can imagine, there was a huge cheer as the aircraft started rolling down the runway and there was a count-down and cheer as we touched down in Madrid.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnRTLBd6hQLgNIAPHvMkw0DUabZLgZXBWAHny1_Zv4c9K5u_54hQJBPRwVO6Q4WYlrHj7G7ILZWBIPBHDKO8S2YfpdJyxr1GHlBS242pQTbIg2jM6ZiuqJzTUyQ_Ev9wNejQGUp3Tw3v22/s1600/IMG-20200322-WA0011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnRTLBd6hQLgNIAPHvMkw0DUabZLgZXBWAHny1_Zv4c9K5u_54hQJBPRwVO6Q4WYlrHj7G7ILZWBIPBHDKO8S2YfpdJyxr1GHlBS242pQTbIg2jM6ZiuqJzTUyQ_Ev9wNejQGUp3Tw3v22/s320/IMG-20200322-WA0011.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We were all together at the back as you can see.</span></i> </span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I had already booked a train at 4.30 but I could see in the RENFE app that there was one at 2.30. I wasted a lot of time at the airport looking for trains when I should have gone straight for the taxi rank, although the taxi fare was €30. The flight was well under 3 hours and we had left early but I didn't really know how long it would take to get to the train station of Puerta de Atocha. Finally I took a taxi and the driver flew along the motorways at high speed, obviously there was very little traffic. I hesitated changing my ticket on my phone till I was sure we would make it, which we did with 10 minutes to spare. So, that is where I am now, somewhere between Zarragoza and Barcelona, due to arrive in Girona at 6.15.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I added some photos at home and now it is published!</span>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com017460 Celrà, Girona, Spain42.0122869 2.887643641.9179144 2.7262821 42.1066594 3.0490051tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-54542804359348449052019-08-17T10:32:00.000+02:002019-08-17T14:19:41.060+02:00My Brother's Keeper<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"My brother's keeper" is an old saying which derives from the story of Cain and Abel in the Old Testament but I thought about it yesterday!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I was in Cadaqués taking photos for my greetings cards (I will turn them into paintings). </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwX6pG9FtHadHgk6EvS3mbUy_xCn-VQE-zoI_mf_bapNOCqHPvCcKyF-tzjGDSgs6NMrbs2HS8Q-__1jptBklw3_5aLLVpI2wvXWacygpKCWVHfFGovi7nYmh2xXIRNCkD6GJbo_nCpkAr/s1600/P1000364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwX6pG9FtHadHgk6EvS3mbUy_xCn-VQE-zoI_mf_bapNOCqHPvCcKyF-tzjGDSgs6NMrbs2HS8Q-__1jptBklw3_5aLLVpI2wvXWacygpKCWVHfFGovi7nYmh2xXIRNCkD6GJbo_nCpkAr/s320/P1000364.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />I was walking along a path several metres above the sea when I came across one of many restaurants but, being British, I immediately noticed that one guy's chair was perilously close to the edge - there was no protecting wall, nothing, just a sheer drop of several metres onto rocks. I spoke to the waiter and suggested it was a little dangerous. His reply was my least favourite saying in Spanish, "Es lo que hay". I persevered and spoke to the family group. They were French and were very receptive to my faltering French, they were relaxed and happy. The man's response was similar to the waiter's which surprised me because I imagined the French as being a little more like the English. We joked about it, I attempted to say, "I guess it makes life more exciting" in response to their saying more or less the same, but I couldn't remember the word in French. They helped me out, "excitant". I left with good relations abounding but I didn't go back that way.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But I cannot help myself, this is the way I am. Most people's response would be the same as the waiter's and just walk by with a (gallic, because Cadaques was full of French visitors) shrug of the shoulders. But I think, in general, the Brits are more aware of risks, sometimes too much so. But some things I see here, especially at the railway crossing at my local station, scare me. I have given up trying to warn RENFE that to sound the train horn when it is only 50m from the crossing is somewhat too late. It should be ten times that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My view of the human race is not to walk away but to consider that we are all connected in some way and that we should say something if we see a dangerous situation.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It is funny, because I also said something in the bus between Figueres and Cadaqués, where other people may have turned a blind-eye. There were two young girls about 24 obviously in love with each other in the seat diagonally in front of me. The aisle seat was even reclined to enable the passionate kissing. I said, "Por favor", and they stopped. The girl by the window was obviously the more passionate of the two, to put it politely. Soon they were at it again. I wasn't going to move for sure. I suggested they move to the rear seat of the bus if they wanted to do it. I said that it was "maleducado" which means "impolite", that it was OK to do it in private of course, but not in public. I said that it was the same for heterosexuals also, I wasn't commenting because they were two girls. Sorry, hehe, I don't have a photo!<br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9CmESuCU2ePwc2XRYIIsaP9Pczd1MWLDcn9dbS2jNwbra2fww_QLKRRxpBOmkYprBnKj8JKbnQehRgSeG0KO56DM5_t8HPrGUyTkxVPLzqUrGFbUdkTDCPf3dfyLa4Ugq6lh3RKqj7J8/s1600/P1000352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9CmESuCU2ePwc2XRYIIsaP9Pczd1MWLDcn9dbS2jNwbra2fww_QLKRRxpBOmkYprBnKj8JKbnQehRgSeG0KO56DM5_t8HPrGUyTkxVPLzqUrGFbUdkTDCPf3dfyLa4Ugq6lh3RKqj7J8/s320/P1000352.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Here is the great man himself! I took many photos, looking for different angles. There were lots of people in Cadaqués and at one point I was regretting coming here in August as the bus crept forwards in the traffic queue entering the town. But I'm glad I went. If the mood takes me, it would be a shame to wait. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I had arrived by taking the regular train to Figueres and there was a 30 minute wait for the bus (in fact a little longer because its arrival was delayed by 15 minutes). The journey was rather tedious (enlivened by the two girls) because it went into Roses on its way to Cadaqués. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I felt sorry for my friends who had Thursday off because it was a holiday. It was cloudy and it rained in Girona. And here, the following day the sky was blue again as you can see.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On the return, I took a bus at 5pm directly to Girona which would have arrived at the bus station at 7pm. But, as it was approaching Hospital Trueta, I calculated that the bus leaving for Celrà at 6.40 would soon pass by in the opposite direction. So I jumped off the bus at the hospital, crossed the road, and 5 minutes later, the bus to Celrà arrived. I though that was pretty cool! If I had gone all the way to the bus station, I would have arrived back home an hour later.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Here are a few photos but I took loads more. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5z29L4mdxcxvQeygJLr9g8ZGdHFu7DvT3wCnC8P56E4vmVl2SC38QUHEyLVklZy3VGi8CSxnoRjd_9t4yro0a1jPaJwAHQecl5k-ydqmq5JHZ362WJP8dg4WepYzaaGYNHtnYYsq6Zh-X/s1600/P1000347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5z29L4mdxcxvQeygJLr9g8ZGdHFu7DvT3wCnC8P56E4vmVl2SC38QUHEyLVklZy3VGi8CSxnoRjd_9t4yro0a1jPaJwAHQecl5k-ydqmq5JHZ362WJP8dg4WepYzaaGYNHtnYYsq6Zh-X/s320/P1000347.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcXtZfm5JT0F9FLZsk-kpa8X7l2mAkZZyXzH_mcSBX5fltyvjSid9hHURazD_qFPayiAzAotOpxij6yaw23zE6a6x1Rna_bT5e-oycmQeRDISzr3wNHvYM0KBIS27gMQqmRTpYH3lKvlg/s1600/P1000361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcXtZfm5JT0F9FLZsk-kpa8X7l2mAkZZyXzH_mcSBX5fltyvjSid9hHURazD_qFPayiAzAotOpxij6yaw23zE6a6x1Rna_bT5e-oycmQeRDISzr3wNHvYM0KBIS27gMQqmRTpYH3lKvlg/s320/P1000361.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxZm6mA8vDGznM2NbAgEh6Yb6XnwyJwwlcX8chS92bvQ9osjmw9lVjmCZvun_ay39PDtleUXKXCbDTBKQUpwRl1GZwh-6I6PCo1U4-IgXkl6fBLZb2q4zI5FCyiCIQzxZEhH3y-oGT0w7O/s1600/P1000375.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxZm6mA8vDGznM2NbAgEh6Yb6XnwyJwwlcX8chS92bvQ9osjmw9lVjmCZvun_ay39PDtleUXKXCbDTBKQUpwRl1GZwh-6I6PCo1U4-IgXkl6fBLZb2q4zI5FCyiCIQzxZEhH3y-oGT0w7O/s320/P1000375.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUeed2WcvlUU4Um3YWWaJLuFULlO1oHi_kHoo6JfYwM4niMvXaH9811lGloNJLd0lSgtc5Q0_8cX7DicjBB6IB12jM-3NVxSKaMYLZJfDJjwmdskNu7Xie5SEzWdWyhidXW3wfzShuoRZ/s1600/P1000384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUeed2WcvlUU4Um3YWWaJLuFULlO1oHi_kHoo6JfYwM4niMvXaH9811lGloNJLd0lSgtc5Q0_8cX7DicjBB6IB12jM-3NVxSKaMYLZJfDJjwmdskNu7Xie5SEzWdWyhidXW3wfzShuoRZ/s320/P1000384.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzOheZ8fsbzsYYvVeRH4SS2Fcs73TyEFKbxHB7wCBO2zrq7Dtwq7a9gZe8pfIPzvf6hdWlZqAgYgZdtTBm40rs3mntjuz0nxfIIbpxl3UU37l1fHG3wIXldYBj3UjS32fkm3R8pS5lX-i/s1600/P1000391.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzOheZ8fsbzsYYvVeRH4SS2Fcs73TyEFKbxHB7wCBO2zrq7Dtwq7a9gZe8pfIPzvf6hdWlZqAgYgZdtTBm40rs3mntjuz0nxfIIbpxl3UU37l1fHG3wIXldYBj3UjS32fkm3R8pS5lX-i/s320/P1000391.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-64247910641317941972019-06-20T18:17:00.001+02:002019-06-21T21:47:50.915+02:00Travelling to France<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Sunday 26th May was a turning point for me because the build-up to the local elections had been making me feel stressed. So I decided to go away! And I always write about my travels here because so many things happen, quirky things, things that make me laugh... and cry (not literally!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">France is a one hour train journey for me and it costs me €3. Imagine the poor Brits living in the UK who have to embark on a sea voyage or a journey under the sea. Admittedly, my €3 only gets me as far as Cerbère but then an 8am train from Celrà connects to the French equivalent, the TER, which leaves Cerbère for Avignon at 9.37am with stops at Perpignan and Narbonne. I am bored with Perpignan and I wanted to escape the politics of independence for Catalonia, and Perpignan is very "catalan", with its name spelt in both languages on the station.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCA35YbMf60KtjlvTbmczJ1kelMI5RXvrW0oKyTlCbHv_9l27Fs3S956-otTA0dgR6oOhafqzOx5W7dvf8VHuIZf02PgB4uYd-0yShgGuvGuVhJVoWzI2JCqBJeGTYToAoOGY6GKlEoGS4/s1600/20190323_190947%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCA35YbMf60KtjlvTbmczJ1kelMI5RXvrW0oKyTlCbHv_9l27Fs3S956-otTA0dgR6oOhafqzOx5W7dvf8VHuIZf02PgB4uYd-0yShgGuvGuVhJVoWzI2JCqBJeGTYToAoOGY6GKlEoGS4/s320/20190323_190947%255B1%255D.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from El Punt Avui</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This is the dream of Òmnium and Jordi Cuixart, the reunification of the old kingdom of Catalonia which includes what is now part of France, Valencia and the Balearic Islands. Make no mistake, independence for Catalonia is only the start!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So I decided to go on to Narbonne which is, I think... I hope, outside the plans of Omnium! One thing that annoys me greatly about SNCF is that now they have made the tickets for the TER, non-refundable and non-changeable. But it is their basic train service, like <i>Regionales</i> in Spain. It is like Ryanair, but even they allow a period of grace to change mistakes. So I have to be sure that the Spanish train is on-time before I commit myself to buying the French rail ticket. But if I leave it too late, I may not get a signal for my phone. "Well, then, buy it in Cerbère station", I hear you say. Not possible. The ticket office is closed till 9.45am and the ticket machine has been removed. On this occasion, before 26th May, I waited till I could speak to the ticket collector before buying my ticket but, this being France, he charged me the penalty fare of €12. I tried to use my phone to buy the ticket but just as I was about to enter the CVV code, the train went into a tunnel. When I tried again, the app no longer recognised the journey because it had already started. Normally the fare, with my Carte Senior is €8. So this was not too big a sacrifice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I arrived in Narbonne, I discovered that the track to Toulouse, where I had considered going, was closed due to works. Then I received a message from my political group that there was a meeting next day. So I caught the next train back to Spain!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Next time in France, I decided to stay in Toulouse for one night. I really want to improve my French and visiting France is one great way to do it. This time I was smarter and bought my Cerbère to Toulouse ticket in advance. It was about €19 with my Carte Senior. It is much more expensive at €50 than my Spanish rail-card (€5) but well worth the price.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I stayed in Ibis Budget near to the station but it is very-budget! There was a noise from the lift which was very annoying. I thought it was furniture being moved and only realised in the morning the true cause. Although I take the slow train going to France, when it comes to late afternoon, the choice for the return is easy. The connection at Port Bou is not very good and there is a Spanish AVE from Lyon which stops at Narbonne. But Perpignan to Girona is expensive at €33 and there is no senior discount. So to take that AVE is expensive.... but very cool! I am back in Girona just before 7pm and I can take a train or bus to Celrà at 7pm.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I just got back from my third trip to France in 3 weeks, I spent 2 nights at Ibis very-Budget in Toulouse after they replied to my complaint about the noise from the lift and offered me a discount.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This time, I had a bigger disaster with my ticket for the TER on Monday 17th. (Really! One cannot describe €19 as a disaster. Ed.) I had to wait to see if the Spanish train was on time to Cerbère before buying it (remember, I cannot buy it at the station). It was early in the morning and I was hardly awake. The previous day, I had booked the AVE for Wednesday from Perpignan to Girona in advance - it was only €22. Unfortunately, the OUI website for SNCF defaults to the day <i>after</i> the previous booking so when I bought my ticket for the TER (Cerbère to Toulouse), I accidentally bought it for Thursday (today, as I write this, back home). No refund, no change!! I had to write off the €19 and start again when I realised my mistake. Aha, this is a useful source of revenue for SNCF I think. French rail-travellers also must be angry with SNCF for making the rules so draconian for their basic means of rail transport.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP_V2svh2S5fE4mFLQLDOaXFgvHxFet5WhTppCmAT62CVifkES_q6aYOW_xJCBtYPVyRc-RLSVflovaAOXVRRqXid08ONe6tJ8NLKbppxByd9EKnAd-vhsbRV6-J1RxpiY55ts3A3r-S7d/s1600/20190607_162953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP_V2svh2S5fE4mFLQLDOaXFgvHxFet5WhTppCmAT62CVifkES_q6aYOW_xJCBtYPVyRc-RLSVflovaAOXVRRqXid08ONe6tJ8NLKbppxByd9EKnAd-vhsbRV6-J1RxpiY55ts3A3r-S7d/s320/20190607_162953.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />Narbonne is very interesting historically. So I spent a lot of time browsing the streets between trains. I found a butcher and bought a tranche d'agneau, almost a complete leg of lamb and took it back on the train. I found another butcher, a halal butcher. I had to check what "halal" means. I knew that it meant that the animal is not stunned before being killed. I learnt that a prayer is said, which made me feel a little better about it. I feel slight unease about eating meat in general, especially beef but I will never go vegetarian. It is how things are. Many animals eats other animals! But obviously I am happier if I know that the animals haven't been cooped up in cages for their short lives.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Yesterday, on my way home, I bought some lamb chops and a couple of bottles of wine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, my final part of this post is about my most recent visit to Toulouse. Having lost €19 on my way there, I checked into the Ibis very-Budget and then took a walk around town. I have a bus and rail card from last time but one can walk to many places. On my first night, I was disturbed by neighbours arriving back in their room at 12.30am. I cursed and finally got back to sleep. The second night, I was not disturbed by neighbours but unfortunately I had left the TV remote control on the bed and as it hit the floor after sliding off the bed at 4am, I woke with a start. It took me almost an hour to get back to sleep!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I could tell you about the places I visited, the parks, the long tree-lined avenues but my motive for writing a blog is to write about the strange and quirky things that happened. So this post is all about train journeys and disturbed sleep! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">SNCF has a greater confidence in the punctuality of its trains than I do! Twice now, I have caught an earlier train from Toulouse to Narbonne in order to wait for the Spanish AVE. That leaves me with an hour in Narbonne which is no great hardship. But if I were to buy a single ticket from Toulouse to Barcelona on the SNCF website, I would be given a later train to Narbonne which arrives 5 minutes before the AVE. I thought this was rather tight but twice, I sat on Narbonne station and watched the TER arrive from Toulouse and about 100 people took the tunnel under the platform to take the AVE which arrived almost instantly! For sure it would wait, I thought. But for how long?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On my way back on Wednesday, I received my answer. The TER was 10 minutes late and the AVE was on time. And it did not wait! I watched for the TER coming down the track from Toulouse but never saw it. I am glad I was not the person to explain to the passengers that they just missed their connection. There was another AVE to Barcelona an hour later, so providing there were seats, I suppose that was offered as a substitute. And maybe there were not so many people making the connection. But, really! A connection of 5 minutes? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimq2zNd12YTbAmoWupDV0w-LUu-w7MtPs5Xp6FTt9u3kNbabLaynOxwBy1g0CzIwiz_AELI1fgMGQTWw141ruv2wFlGXRdvB7j26DX8U68AbzLzJGeCPwRLsD5kRfAJi8BfIY62JowE3Ni/s1600/IMG-20190610-WA0001%255B1%255D.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimq2zNd12YTbAmoWupDV0w-LUu-w7MtPs5Xp6FTt9u3kNbabLaynOxwBy1g0CzIwiz_AELI1fgMGQTWw141ruv2wFlGXRdvB7j26DX8U68AbzLzJGeCPwRLsD5kRfAJi8BfIY62JowE3Ni/s320/IMG-20190610-WA0001%255B1%255D.jpeg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On 6th June, the very first day of the swimming pool in Celrà, my bike was stolen. This is my old steel-frame Peugeot bike, not my modern carbon fibre bike. But all the same! It was parked outside the pool reception, locked but not attached to anything. As I have done for the past 4 years. I was very annoyed as you can imagine but I only use it to commute to the pool in the summer so I replaced it with a scooter - €100 from Decathlon. It is not powered, of course. But I can whizz along to the pool more rapidly than walking which would be rather boring for the whole of the summer. The Peugeot bike was worth very little, but to me it had a great sentimental value. I bought it in London very many years ago.</span>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-9567246822748842019-03-26T14:51:00.001+01:002019-03-26T14:51:28.205+01:00My boat is launched!<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Monday 25th </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My nautical life has not been very distinguished! I have owned 3 boats in total. The first two were crazy and I wrote about number 2 in my <a href="https://stevebrown-life.blogspot.com/2018/09/flying-sailing.html" target="_blank">"life blog"</a>. The first.... let us draw a veil over that! It was called a <i>Mini-sail</i> and I used to tow it down to the south coast (the UK, that is!) and float around Poole Harbour and various estuaries. Basically, it was a glorified surf-board with a sail. On account of not having a jib, I could never get close to the wind and often ended up "in irons" with the tiller pulled up hard against my chest. As I said, let's not talk about the Mini-sail, I wanted to tell you about my latest attempt at walking and floating to Medinyà.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">While the plans for my bridge are being finalised (I wish that was true, it is still a fantasy), I decided that I would cross the mighty River Ter by water, so I bought an inflatable boat from Amazon for €35 and I also bought a life-jacket because I reckoned that maybe I would be alone in the event of needing a rescue. The life-jacket was about the same price as the boat!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Yesterday, I went to church at Madremanya, tonight I have my regular meeting with the PSC, the political group which I mentioned previously. And tomorrow and Wednesday, I want to watch the Volta Catalunya which comes through Celrà on Wednesday. That left a convenient window of opportunity to try out my boat! So I packed everything onto the smaller of my two sack-trolleys and headed off to the river. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_o2r6d7UqmvNcaT7NJRI2cr_Qj3_jAsetuCfRuRGOCoL1fwrkHs0rpQUUxf73NNjZftymEF5IEIVjQoivG_C5lgW3jqTZ-c6RobO1aIBZKWlhmA80pYfrCGFLougbCQLiCmU8e1wbihqq/s1600/20190325_105622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_o2r6d7UqmvNcaT7NJRI2cr_Qj3_jAsetuCfRuRGOCoL1fwrkHs0rpQUUxf73NNjZftymEF5IEIVjQoivG_C5lgW3jqTZ-c6RobO1aIBZKWlhmA80pYfrCGFLougbCQLiCmU8e1wbihqq/s320/20190325_105622.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinWauuMXnHsF1jWcXOkaz2go1n7QrP8FfObXreP81Z6J9kO8_vmRxmqstMcoDY-HUm5oAQ0YwU0uV1YVhbThr5bGGQmQ1jnHLfoF7Z4AbP6DgCdAtEPeMok8VabdcrUOnvRi1fvflAU9gF/s1600/20190325_105741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinWauuMXnHsF1jWcXOkaz2go1n7QrP8FfObXreP81Z6J9kO8_vmRxmqstMcoDY-HUm5oAQ0YwU0uV1YVhbThr5bGGQmQ1jnHLfoF7Z4AbP6DgCdAtEPeMok8VabdcrUOnvRi1fvflAU9gF/s320/20190325_105741.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The weather has been more like summer during the past few days and today was sunny with a clear blue sky.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I reached the river at the end of a long drive-way (you can see it in the second of the 2 photos above), I stopped and chatted with three guys who were clearing trees which were encroaching on power cables crossing the river. The river was barely flowing at all, the scene was balmy. I had joked earlier with a friend that maybe I should have launched it with a bottle of Cava (taking care not to break the bottle!) But it was 11am so a little too early for alcohol!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Two of the men came down to the river edge and helped me launch the boat and I jumped in! It is not a very stable form of transport but as soon as I remembered that I had to face the opposite direction (!), I started to row. This was chaotic! Every missed stroke caused the boat to swivel violently in that direction, it had no momentum of its own. I nearly lost one of the oars because it was screwed in the centre and that was coming loose. Maybe that explained why sometimes the oar was not catching the water.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I made it across to the river to a convenient little beach about 50m up-stream but that was not where I wanted to be. Because I had already been in the woods on the opposite side, I knew that the ideal landing spot was directly across the river but the bank was too steep to land. From the beach, I headed up through the undergrowth but it was thick with nettles and I was wearing plastic waterproof shoes and shorts. I grabbed a large stick and set about making a path up to the top of the incline, hoping that, at the top, I would break out into the path which I knew was there. It was not to be. As soon as I reached the top, I could see a further 5m of undergrowth and, in any case, this was not something I felt that I should clear. I headed back down to my boat and paddled across the river. It was idyllic! I will go further next time, this was just a trial run.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The shame is that, on the Medinyà side, there is no access to the river, so in the longer term, maybe I can talk to the Town Hall. The obvious place to cross is by the power pylons because the undergrowth is kept clear all the time and there is easy access to the path, but the bank on the Medinyà side is too steep to land.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The last photo shows where I dream of having a bridge, I have to go out now but tomorrow, I will draw the bridge in Photoshop and also add a Spanish commentary.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfN_RNsrCT4x6bKP02aWDPnXtWLfrgRoS9wcu_sz66rcaqd1VH5lD5kS_-uaqoHNndg0k_4JIAJj9I2O24msjwqhGI0AmWqAnLQKI16AjzydaM4ZsYxscaLlphkNAgGJEZZGu1wquUf4Yo/s1600/20190325_115658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfN_RNsrCT4x6bKP02aWDPnXtWLfrgRoS9wcu_sz66rcaqd1VH5lD5kS_-uaqoHNndg0k_4JIAJj9I2O24msjwqhGI0AmWqAnLQKI16AjzydaM4ZsYxscaLlphkNAgGJEZZGu1wquUf4Yo/s320/20190325_115658.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PSYWlNvfgeVu4RGmWSmw2mrqNFIw3pXxv6sh9vQ71NHiT-u4OXCeugKIIrbTXzE9c5CKcXF8KlKTfO_95Lod4kcwvv-5NxPex1fI9j6Lr6W50IQX4od242QIh9nP0TEpdufijrR4809x/s1600/20190325_120054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PSYWlNvfgeVu4RGmWSmw2mrqNFIw3pXxv6sh9vQ71NHiT-u4OXCeugKIIrbTXzE9c5CKcXF8KlKTfO_95Lod4kcwvv-5NxPex1fI9j6Lr6W50IQX4od242QIh9nP0TEpdufijrR4809x/s320/20190325_120054.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEYfw7HpSOKpC-v29FvxRfSt-vBdC79ne1oKB4hGkoR07TRWXmkVnASHb72VJyEl63EIPZnUzVUvj_SFYrxb9qLjJyO5CzWDueAdO2NLxROvy4t95L2IDiz7wXEIWRnr3yUd-pRWMtGHlv/s1600/20190325_120058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEYfw7HpSOKpC-v29FvxRfSt-vBdC79ne1oKB4hGkoR07TRWXmkVnASHb72VJyEl63EIPZnUzVUvj_SFYrxb9qLjJyO5CzWDueAdO2NLxROvy4t95L2IDiz7wXEIWRnr3yUd-pRWMtGHlv/s320/20190325_120058.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfbWjYNI3epgUxDIWm6FGfwCtljEcE9RTMZ1siWPqdVfiuDQB30ORaoLiDB_VhWvDzwanAYxmtkRp3Kvd2voXx-jjlNT-eXTbhQxBkHqdHrlRyb-bSz9T7DOxkJpFGcU2Kx_8NQ0wVRex/s1600/20190325_123057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfbWjYNI3epgUxDIWm6FGfwCtljEcE9RTMZ1siWPqdVfiuDQB30ORaoLiDB_VhWvDzwanAYxmtkRp3Kvd2voXx-jjlNT-eXTbhQxBkHqdHrlRyb-bSz9T7DOxkJpFGcU2Kx_8NQ0wVRex/s320/20190325_123057.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpVninHHc9N7EFU5IDniif_aqzuaOQvaFV1KBs94y2A-lTnyFyLCbdii1SUy6UZNLuLwhpP_QkXUcQ-qE_SerJIXEXZ6iQYJsqmV5TUwVa6XqjzkgPzNCYOXJSgZroFGZdC8RcqgeNYpoa/s1600/P1000156-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="738" data-original-width="1000" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpVninHHc9N7EFU5IDniif_aqzuaOQvaFV1KBs94y2A-lTnyFyLCbdii1SUy6UZNLuLwhpP_QkXUcQ-qE_SerJIXEXZ6iQYJsqmV5TUwVa6XqjzkgPzNCYOXJSgZroFGZdC8RcqgeNYpoa/s320/P1000156-web.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-88655966031459491522019-03-05T16:34:00.001+01:002019-03-08T12:10:20.985+01:00Dangerous (Peligroso - version español abajo)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-7NIritjbolr9cTO_ygam3HP-_jllNGhWNeVGP0qlT-o07NkSAWthG9CcNTru9WdlmahDE_f3EuV3wJ6lHmQgUuiGFUhDXI5CVg8ixToZ5w2BmrrJLiLYfgavwkARQ6cvmM2HEQP7XIgf/s1600/semaforas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1049" data-original-width="1600" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-7NIritjbolr9cTO_ygam3HP-_jllNGhWNeVGP0qlT-o07NkSAWthG9CcNTru9WdlmahDE_f3EuV3wJ6lHmQgUuiGFUhDXI5CVg8ixToZ5w2BmrrJLiLYfgavwkARQ6cvmM2HEQP7XIgf/s320/semaforas.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This is a pedestrian crossing by the railway station in Girona. It crosses Carretera de Barcelona which is a long, straight road with two lanes of fast traffic in each direction. It is potentially dangerous because, when the traffic is stopped in one direction, it continues to flow in the other direction (from right to left in the photo) in order to let traffic turn left. This fools some people who, seeing the traffic waiting despite the little man being red, think it is OK to cross. This is not wise. The traffic is rapid. I will come back to the crossing in a moment....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This morning I went to Decathlon which is at the far end of Carretera de Barcelona in the south of the city, together with Bauhaus and MediaMarkt. I was looking for an inflatable dinghy with which to cross the Rio Ter (where ultimately my bridge will be built.... I hope!) The current flow is very slow at the moment so it would be an easy crossing and a typical dinghy is only about 4kg in weight. I have already seen many example in Amamzon.es but I thought I would find one in Decathlon. Unfortunately all they had was an inflatable canoe, much too big and heavy for me. What I had in mind was something like a coracle!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Right next to Decathlon is a McDonald's Cafe and I had a coffee and cookie there. I read a free copy of La Vanguardia and then headed back towards the centre of Girona. I was following the buses on my phone, which shows estimated arrival times so I arrived at the bus-stop in plenty of time.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At the bus-stop was a woman with a small wheelie suitcase in a state of panic. I think she had someone else with her, I'm not sure. The other person headed up the road, apparently looking for a bus stop. The woman was Brazilian and she asked in great anxiety about the bus, was it number 2? Yes, the bus-stop said number 2. I told her it was due to arrive in 4 minutes but it soon became apparent why she was panicking. She said she had to catch a train to Sevilla at 12.55 and I could see that time would be very short. I kept on reassuring her about the bus until it finally arrived... and passed directly by on the roundabout. It did not pass the bus-stop. Shock! She headed off down Carretera de Barcelona in panic in the same direction as the bus.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At this point I saw next to the bus times in the kiosk, a small map saying that, because the road was closed (not evident from where I was), the bus-stop had been moved and it showed the modified position 200m in the direction away from the city centre. I could see that the next bus was due in about 10 minutes, so I went and found the new bus-stop. Three kilometres into the city, we met up with my friend who was running frantically to catch the bus... "my" bus. I asked the driver to wait.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I could see by now that she had no chance of catching the train. She said it was to Barcelona but I thought, to get to Sevilla, one had to go to Madrid. She was in quite a state and I could see what was coming next. As we got off at the bus-stop for the station (to the left of the photo and on the other side of the road), I tried to get close to her to restrain her but she was too quick for me. She dashed up the road, crossed one carriageway diagonally, stopped in the middle with traffic passing in both directions and ran across to the other side. I was very shocked, that was so dangerous. Better to miss a train and not lose your life. Anyway, she was already too late.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I guess it took me about 2 hours to recover. I was shaking, as if I had just had a violent argument with someone. I spilt Coke on the table while having my lunch. I would have liked something stronger to calm my nerves but I have a meeting later today. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAUGh5pQspoz3qRmkYmDT3lZtJf3GkmOn0Dfq73Q3ZRDl9r6U5yVk5TmFBdgJK7jQHXhe5VKkTCpEVC7Uz_HTy-yZT3_ZPFurPpwDIY5LQvnfob3R2gwVlaVmBJKPlsqZk9uGWQpwFwS1f/s1600/20190222_074224%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAUGh5pQspoz3qRmkYmDT3lZtJf3GkmOn0Dfq73Q3ZRDl9r6U5yVk5TmFBdgJK7jQHXhe5VKkTCpEVC7Uz_HTy-yZT3_ZPFurPpwDIY5LQvnfob3R2gwVlaVmBJKPlsqZk9uGWQpwFwS1f/s320/20190222_074224%255B1%255D.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I just sent this painting to my friend Marta in Ukraine!</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLPhbxtxgjvbN4c9ypftXX2D1df2eN3dlwATauGSMkfke5iU3qsqsshv2YDfkTUpYPiSlxCFTMLhNjmYX6pafEGaYpiUa4cSiWi2kp-GQkj-ETIrfN16akl6PxO2gcjLhJrdPeU7V0Vsd/s1600/20190303_145502%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLPhbxtxgjvbN4c9ypftXX2D1df2eN3dlwATauGSMkfke5iU3qsqsshv2YDfkTUpYPiSlxCFTMLhNjmYX6pafEGaYpiUa4cSiWi2kp-GQkj-ETIrfN16akl6PxO2gcjLhJrdPeU7V0Vsd/s320/20190303_145502%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />On the subject of dangerous roads, this is my quickest route by road to the other side of the River Ter. Otherwise I have to go almost into Girona at Saría de Ter. Will I be riding down there? Nooo! In one direction, much of the traffic has just come off the autoroute. There is no escape and the shadows would obscure me. I didn't even start to think about going there, don't worry!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Esto es la ruta mas corta desde Celrà y otro lado del rio. Pero mucho demasiado peligroso para ir por la bici.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXOO0jc3N-fTugH-IBTpYXBEnH4iwCrjpDXopimaERTSgwYTonCpcS2rkRKcf-Y0SavDP-3uq4ljm-pKGdYo1oUXB22SW13rK21L2B2Me2OJKuY7ptC3apSc7mQ5qPuS7IHdotyWJBaYZ/s1600/20190308_120522%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXOO0jc3N-fTugH-IBTpYXBEnH4iwCrjpDXopimaERTSgwYTonCpcS2rkRKcf-Y0SavDP-3uq4ljm-pKGdYo1oUXB22SW13rK21L2B2Me2OJKuY7ptC3apSc7mQ5qPuS7IHdotyWJBaYZ/s320/20190308_120522%255B1%255D.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I just bought a boat! €35 including oars and the pump. So I can cross the river now, before my bridge is built. Because I will be on my own, I bought a life-jacket too. It was about the same price as the boat! It is very light and small when deflated, about 4kg, so it will be very easy to transport to the river.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>Ahora en español </b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="tlid-translation translation">En la foto es un paso de peatones cerca de la estación de tren de Girona. Atraviesa la Carretera de Barcelona, que es una carretera larga y recta con dos carriles de tráfico rápido en cada dirección. Es potencialmente peligroso porque, cuando el tráfico se detiene en una dirección, continúa fluyendo en la otra dirección (de derecha a izquierda en la foto) para permitir que el tráfico gire a la izquierda. Esto engaña a algunas personas que, al ver el tráfico esperando a pesar de que el hombrecito es rojo, piensan que está bien cruzar. Esto no es sabio. El tráfico es rápido. Regresaré al cruce en un momento ....<br /><br />Esta mañana fui a Decathlon, que está al final de la Carretera de Barcelona, junto con Bauhaus y MediaMarkt. Estaba buscando un barca inflable para cruzar el río Ter (donde finalmente se construirá mi puente ... ¡Espero!) El flujo de corriente es muy lento en este momento, por lo que sería un cruce fácil y una barca típico solo se trata de 4kg de peso. Ya he visto muchos ejemplos en Amamzon.es pero pensé que vería uno en Decathlon. Desafortunadamente, todo lo que tenían era una canoa inflable, demasiado grande y pesada para mí.<br /><br />Justo al lado de Decathlon hay un McDonald's Café y yo tomé un café y una galleta allí. Leí una copia gratuita de La Vanguardia y luego volví hacia el centro de Girona. Estaba siguiendo los autobuses en mi teléfono, que muestra los tiempos de llegada estimados, así que llegué a la parada del autobús con suficiente antelación.<br /><br />En la parada del autobús había una mujer con una pequeña maleta con ruedas en estado de pánico. Creo que ella tenía a alguien más con ella, no estoy seguro. La otra persona se dirigió a la calle, aparentemente buscando una parada de autobús. La mujer era brasileña y preguntó con gran ansiedad sobre el autobús, ¿era el número 2? Sí, la parada de autobús dijo el número 2. Le dije que debía llegar en 4 minutos, pero pronto se hizo evidente por qué estaba entrando en pánico. Ella dijo que tenía que tomar un tren a Sevilla a las 12.55 y pude ver que el tiempo sería muy corto. Seguí tranquilizándola sobre el autobús hasta que finalmente llegó ... y pasé directamente por la rotonda. No pasó la parada del autobús. ¡Choque! Ella bajó en pánico por la Carratera de Barcelona en la misma dirección que el autobús.<br /><br />En este momento, vi junto a los horarios de los autobuses en el quiosco, un pequeño mapa que decía que, debido a que la carretera estaba cerrada (</span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span class="" title="">No es evidente desde donde estaba)</span></span>, la parada de autobús se había movido y mostraba la posición modificada a 200m del centro de la ciudad. Pude ver que el próximo autobús saldría en unos 10 minutos, así que fui y encontré la nueva parada de autobús. A tres kilómetros de la ciudad, nos encontramos con mi amigo que corría frenéticamente para tomar el autobús ... "mi" autobús. Yo pedí al conductor que esperara.<br /><br />Ya podía ver que ella no tenía oportunidad de tomar el tren. Dijo que era a Barcelona, pero pensé que para llegar a Sevilla había que ir a Madrid. Estaba en mal estado y pude ver lo que venía a pasar cuando ella salio del bus. Cuando nos bajamos en la parada de autobús de la estación (a la izquierda de la foto y al otro lado de la carretera), traté de acercarme a ella para detenerla, pero ella fue demasiado rápida para mí. Corrió por la carretera, cruzó una calzada en diagonal, se detuvo en el medio con el tráfico pasando en ambas direcciones y corrió hacia el otro lado. Yo estaba en choque, era muy muy peligroso. Mejor perder un tren y no perder la vida. De todos modos, ella ya era demasiado tarde por su tren.<br /><br />Faltaba unas 2 horas para recuperarme. Estaba temblando, como si acabara de tener una discusión violenta con alguien. Derramé mi bebida Cola sobre la mesa mientras almorzaba. Queria cerveza para calmarme per tengo un reunion mas tarde.</span></span>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-3641286485105371362019-02-21T13:11:00.001+01:002019-02-22T18:05:37.101+01:00Elecciones ... y un sueño sobre un puente.<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">See the previous post for the version in English! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Una actualización.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />Cuando regresé de Dubai y Kiev, decidí no irme por un tiempo, principalmente por razones económicas! ¡Pero con la primavera en el aire, no hay mejor lugar para estar que Girona! Y ciertamente, durante el verano, muy rara vez me voy. Durante muchos años, la Costa Brava fue el destino de ensueño para nosotros, los británicos, y ahora puedo ir a la playa en bicicleta! Pero mi plan a largo plazo es ir a algún lugar cálido en el invierno, como Colombia, pero eso está muy lejos en tiempo. Hay un verano para disfrutar primero.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />Si estás aburrido de la política, puedes saltar a la sección sobre la construcción de un puente!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />Sé que he escrito sobre eso antes, pero creo que la incertidumbre sobre el Brexit y la situación política aquí me hace un poco estresado. Brexit es tan loco ahora que las palabras me fallan. Los parlamentarios abandonan sus partidos, todavía no hay acuerdo y los productos se envían al Lejano Oriente, que llegará después del salido de la UE. Eso es asumiendo que Brexit no se retrasa. ¿Y cuál es el punto de hacer eso? Si no pueden encontrar una solución ahora, ¿qué diferencia harán otros 6 meses? David Cameron (el prime minister quien comenzó el proces), tienes mucho por lo que responder.<br />Aquí, tenemos elecciones locales en mayo para coincidir con las elecciones para el Parlamento Europeo y una elección general en abril. Y en la mente de todos, está el juicio de los 12 políticos en Madrid que abarcarán ambas elecciones y sin duda influirán en el resultado.<br />Para mí, el conflicto aquí se reduce a "El derecho de autodeterminación". ¿Existe para Catalunya o no? En cierto modo, el juicio trata de este principio. En mi opinión, si todas las regiones de Europa tuvieran el derecho de autodeterminación, tendríamos países pequeños (o ciudades) apareciendo de repente por todas partes. A menudo se cita una carta de las Naciones Unidas, pero eso se aplica a las regiones que están bajo opresión. Y aunque a menudo esto se plantea como el caso aquí, simplemente no es la verdad. Catalunya tiene mucha autonomía.<br />Mi problema con la independencia es simplemente pragmático; no veo cómo podría funcionar en términos económicos o logísticos. Si la frontera entre Irlanda e Irlanda del Norte es un gran problema, eche un vistazo a la frontera entre el resto de España y Catalunya... y Francia. La mayor parte del transporte español por carretera y ferrocarril con el resto de Europa pasa a través de Catalunya, por la frontera en Le Perthus. Si Catalunya lograra la independencia, se dice la Constitución de la EU, sería automáticamente fuera de la Unión Europea y tendría que volver a solicitar la membresía. Creo que Quim Torra, el actual presidente de Cataluña lo reconoce porque recientemente habló de un acuerdo comercial similar al de Canadá. Sería enormemente complicado. ¿No sería mejor encontrar algún consenso por evitar una división total?<br /><br />Es gracioso, después de toda una vida de ser un verdadero "Tory" azul en el Reino Unido, ahora formo parte del equipo del PSC que promueve a Manel Roqueta como nuestro nuevo alcalde. PSC, Partido Socialista de Catalunya. De hecho, en el mundo en su conjunto, soy "socialista". Creo en compartir los recursos naturales. Cuando Escocia tuvo su referéndum para la independencia, se habló mucho sobre el valor del petróleo crudo en el Mar del Norte. Pero sentí que no era "su" petróleo. De todos modos, eso es agua abajo el puente. Pensé que era una locura ofrecer a Escocia la oportunidad de romper con el Reino Unido, de la misma manera que Catalunya decidía su propio destino. En cualquier caso, no sería seguro que un referéndum legal aquí resulte en el deseo de independencia. Y las personas como yo que no tenemos un pasaporte español, a pesar de ser residentes aquí, no pueden votar de todos modos.<br />Aunque formo parte del equipo, no voy estar consejal. Disfruto mucho el verano y no quiero estar sentado en un despacho soñando con la piscina municipal que está al lado!<br />Por lo que entiendo, todavía tendré un voto en las elecciones locales a pesar de no ser ciudadano europeo en mayo. Hubo un tratado firmado recientemente entre el Reino Unido y España llamado el "Tratado de Derechos de Votación" que lo permite. Supongo que todavía es válido en caso de un Brexit sin acuerdo.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /><b>Una pasarela para el Río Ter.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />Durante mucho tiempo he sentido frustrado por la falta de un puente que cruza el Río Ter en pie, donde vivo en Celrà. El cruce más cercano está más allá de Flaçà o Saria de Ter, que es casi parte de Girona. Para poder explorar el otro lado del río, tuve que tomar un autobús hacia Girona y luego otro autobús hasta St Julià de Ramis. La primera vez que hice esto, tomé el autobús equivocado y, aunque la parada se llamaba "St Juilà de Ramis", estaba a kilómetros de donde quería ir. La segunda vez, fui mucho más sabio.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUkcY5rokbLu117fFILyUshEzVGY6LHnCg42t7G1Va8PsB5en3oLbG6L-TemLTTT4ZR7VTFuxVzp6d9XmcUyYTCGRILx8Q6DFsgGW5qgz2AkUsnNHWgwXLmoOQqIaJqGjictsc6Bi_dLS/s1600/P1000125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUkcY5rokbLu117fFILyUshEzVGY6LHnCg42t7G1Va8PsB5en3oLbG6L-TemLTTT4ZR7VTFuxVzp6d9XmcUyYTCGRILx8Q6DFsgGW5qgz2AkUsnNHWgwXLmoOQqIaJqGjictsc6Bi_dLS/s320/P1000125.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6oJxjDw3zMKUcFJ9WpA7av_pzol9dRpoMhZE0I_pwOKqqMaXNsJLO7MgipYlyeUuSokjH-Qpk3QlqmokuTaaMvGxU1XtL8H2TNZ-IXL7MRR__Sqss0chk_HBJZqmRYWp6SHGO18NA4bYn/s1600/P1000127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6oJxjDw3zMKUcFJ9WpA7av_pzol9dRpoMhZE0I_pwOKqqMaXNsJLO7MgipYlyeUuSokjH-Qpk3QlqmokuTaaMvGxU1XtL8H2TNZ-IXL7MRR__Sqss0chk_HBJZqmRYWp6SHGO18NA4bYn/s320/P1000127.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGgM39YWnEo1zEzdOFA1JO5x2FZ1gcxbQRr8nOPo7rkzFUrfaR4pHJfKE_PZY7PPhzlgQIlFBy_TYSKUFMr9KHZMuer5V__1lmmvMK-yPOONMtyA6Xex9tByzmuV965LDmt2QNp0l_r5hD/s1600/P1000145-mod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGgM39YWnEo1zEzdOFA1JO5x2FZ1gcxbQRr8nOPo7rkzFUrfaR4pHJfKE_PZY7PPhzlgQIlFBy_TYSKUFMr9KHZMuer5V__1lmmvMK-yPOONMtyA6Xex9tByzmuV965LDmt2QNp0l_r5hD/s320/P1000145-mod.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" src="https://www.google.com/maps/embed?pb=!1m14!1m12!1m3!1d33767.39638279143!2d2.8716569473312057!3d42.04437540933851!2m3!1f0!2f0!3f0!3m2!1i1024!2i768!4f13.1!5e1!3m2!1sen!2ses!4v1550751604044" style="border: 0;" width="450"></iframe>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Hay una nueva atracción en Sant Julia, la Fortalesa. Durante muchos años hubo un fortaleza abandonado en una colina que domina el valle del río de regreso a Girona. Conduje hasta allí hace muchos años. Luego, durante aproximadamente 5 años, había dos grúas operando en el sitio y ahora todos podemos ver el resultado. Hay un museo de joyas, un restaurante y un hotel y restaurante de lujo. Hay un camino fácil desde el Ajuntament de Sant Julià en la NIIa hasta la Fortalesa.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Aqui hay algunas fotos.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />En mi segunda visita al otro lado del río, estaba buscando un posible sitio para un pasarela, pero tal vez no haya suficiente demanda para justificar el costo. La ubicación obvia es una carretera de hormigón que se detiene abruptamente en el río en el lado de Celrà. Oh, la frustración, a pocos metros de distancia es Medinyá. Bueno, no es el pueblo más hermoso del mundo, pero justo enfrente de mi puente, hay un camino que, de una manera, lleva a Figueres y la otra a Sant Julià de Ramis y Sarria de Ter.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvrkR2EWK1G4B0EzEeZcjHPdYv0yO716OP4azX4X5cLk51a9jTBMmBsLnXNd8y4U-IQtcuhtysCcZ82AGVx10IrStIUkNUm4SHr2r-tt9st9dsWPhYSFCS1hIc17YgTFpMMoZnuQfRXmks/s1600/P1000153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvrkR2EWK1G4B0EzEeZcjHPdYv0yO716OP4azX4X5cLk51a9jTBMmBsLnXNd8y4U-IQtcuhtysCcZ82AGVx10IrStIUkNUm4SHr2r-tt9st9dsWPhYSFCS1hIc17YgTFpMMoZnuQfRXmks/s320/P1000153.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">el camino de hormigon desde el lado de Medinyà (A)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3EbCdIXyn2NJsOz-ODB4zEhPel0f4j5HMgoGHgwOjAnxabizjnXBIS70YlAPeeczto1uZtSUIzELcx8yBv7gzbzvWLX0fLWdmEiT_ckL6AmIYEWZzi8PvhnaqHzR5Xgx0zYtEFrZzdPXk/s1600/map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="446" data-original-width="581" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3EbCdIXyn2NJsOz-ODB4zEhPel0f4j5HMgoGHgwOjAnxabizjnXBIS70YlAPeeczto1uZtSUIzELcx8yBv7gzbzvWLX0fLWdmEiT_ckL6AmIYEWZzi8PvhnaqHzR5Xgx0zYtEFrZzdPXk/s320/map.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQjasIZNPhRILAoIUMyk2TWwDa6Kg2A6m5zeyUgYtzpq4CExlIGBWA4m7SyRxw8e55GB-B4MPmqokbrn5bQCkenzqvi54eTvSDgxjTJDfTDoDIK_DIT31inw-RAQFjPpFjHOnM04C1xIX/s1600/P1000156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQjasIZNPhRILAoIUMyk2TWwDa6Kg2A6m5zeyUgYtzpq4CExlIGBWA4m7SyRxw8e55GB-B4MPmqokbrn5bQCkenzqvi54eTvSDgxjTJDfTDoDIK_DIT31inw-RAQFjPpFjHOnM04C1xIX/s320/P1000156.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">otra vista de (A) desde el lado de Medinyà</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5ByhruEP1aiGmBySU7sKjy-1IHQ03c7eThBPVSn5an2c4yC4mdAM8a7vOz_sTgu9eo-6SNQvcQjGMWozpAdETzt2a2-oyYo8YLf0ebJw0QkfI9M2ZU2lDwvdWIEqjiP6V_jyzUSgDUh3/s1600/P1000171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5ByhruEP1aiGmBySU7sKjy-1IHQ03c7eThBPVSn5an2c4yC4mdAM8a7vOz_sTgu9eo-6SNQvcQjGMWozpAdETzt2a2-oyYo8YLf0ebJw0QkfI9M2ZU2lDwvdWIEqjiP6V_jyzUSgDUh3/s320/P1000171.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">en la mapa... (B)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> Tomé la última ruta y fue maravilloso. Sigue terrenos abiertos cerca del río y junto a la autopista AP7. Luego hay un puente sobre el pequeño río Terri y luego un paseo señalizado por el río, con una serie de señales que muestran la vida silvestre típica de la región. Seguí el camino hasta la esquina que está muy cerca del ferrocarril y la carretera C66 entre Girona y Celrà. Frustración en revers! Luego seguí el río de regreso al Ayuntamiento de Sant Julià de Ramis, donde llegué a tiempo para tomar un autobús de regreso a Girona.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSCJcf9IdbGsRA8Ox7GLXsZKar2SFvCqUZwWEPSPTyjUfDOUbKHboc3YjN_S708D55mhLlOu16QhoB__T-8fZz1QCTGGBgmzvkbeZaGK2PyUu2tY1NBwf9foJVXPE_piEVh59KnppF_e05/s1600/P1000168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSCJcf9IdbGsRA8Ox7GLXsZKar2SFvCqUZwWEPSPTyjUfDOUbKHboc3YjN_S708D55mhLlOu16QhoB__T-8fZz1QCTGGBgmzvkbeZaGK2PyUu2tY1NBwf9foJVXPE_piEVh59KnppF_e05/s320/P1000168.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />En Internet, encontré un sitio web que describía cómo construir un puente colgante. Me puse en contacto con el hombre que lo construyó (está en Seattle) y compré su libro. Pero cuando me senté en el cruce del río donde termina la carretera, pensé que sería mejor como un puente atirantado. Sería asimétrico obtener la mayor parte de su fuerza desde el hormigón.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYAUd7seVysaqkd5vIVeTDO7RhUc20szb2ENRXEheZEgj33nH8eDD3HDfEuLOl0wAIh0lF3_3Owtv2ka4q37Erb0cl3GEzUEcZ7r2OEiXfyVbo158f3ERS1TJWEmn6HpL6j9Xq3e3lvzaI/s1600/close.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="815" data-original-width="1201" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYAUd7seVysaqkd5vIVeTDO7RhUc20szb2ENRXEheZEgj33nH8eDD3HDfEuLOl0wAIh0lF3_3Owtv2ka4q37Erb0cl3GEzUEcZ7r2OEiXfyVbo158f3ERS1TJWEmn6HpL6j9Xq3e3lvzaI/s320/close.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(A) pasarela.... es obvio!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVz_VcPbp9ZHwnjNO1ovn-TB52RTJnKvxwmvUlXefnKkfnc_pX686TqAaaFOxHipL_UGqikYeVL0LtK2h5uBqdTeG4KK2v7hU7LnXz3VW6vEQBIImaXfdQSQx-qp3TwqPtd0idTj5lh7W/s1600/bridge4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="937" data-original-width="1600" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVz_VcPbp9ZHwnjNO1ovn-TB52RTJnKvxwmvUlXefnKkfnc_pX686TqAaaFOxHipL_UGqikYeVL0LtK2h5uBqdTeG4KK2v7hU7LnXz3VW6vEQBIImaXfdQSQx-qp3TwqPtd0idTj5lh7W/s320/bridge4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />Esto es mi sueño, construir este pasarela. Yo usaría comerciantes locales. Incluso hay una fuente de cable porque hay mucho de eso en los cables catenarias del ferrocarril abandonado al polígono industrial. El resto es madera. Tal vez esperaré hasta que tengamos nuestro nuevo Ajuntament, ¡tal vez Manel sea alcalde! En este momento, el partido gobernante es la CUP de extrema izquierda. Nosotros en el equipo queremos un pueblo para todos. Hablamos español en nuestras reuniones, lo que es genial para mí porque no hablo catalán. Lo entiendo razonablemente bien, pero no sé cómo construir un frase.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Ahora Ad Mundi en el estación de RENFE en Girona vende mis tarjetas postales! </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6GQEjD2c_UghtIfCioS2UGKvyFLIBsZS2ze-GUbWmVUwvPr1L8DTQbNNtvGz5JYYuyy54riMom2R6xZuUFXFVlSGB63hp7tzyz0YfP54_uFOrILabkYxlAJbSiXkGBcDb0W0S96kM5PB/s1600/P1000075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6GQEjD2c_UghtIfCioS2UGKvyFLIBsZS2ze-GUbWmVUwvPr1L8DTQbNNtvGz5JYYuyy54riMom2R6xZuUFXFVlSGB63hp7tzyz0YfP54_uFOrILabkYxlAJbSiXkGBcDb0W0S96kM5PB/s320/P1000075.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-72646069400716517332019-02-21T13:07:00.001+01:002019-03-03T21:07:54.478+01:00Elections ..... and dreaming of a bridge (English version)<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">An update.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />When I came back from Dubai and Kyiv, I decided not to go away for a while, mainly for economic reasons! But with spring in the air, there is no better place to be than Girona! And certainly, during the summer, I very rarely go away. For many years, the Costa Brava was the dream destination for us Brits and now I can go to the beach on my bike! But my long-term plan is to go somewhere warm in the winter such as Colombia but that is a long way off. There is the summer to enjoy first.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /><i>If you are bored with politics, you can skip to the section about building a bridge! Where all the photos are!!</i><br /><br />I know I have written about it before but I think that the uncertainty about Brexit and the political situation here are making me a little stressed. Brexit is just so crazy now that words fail me. MPs are abandoning their parties, there is still no agreement and goods are being shipped to the Far East which will arrive after the UK leaves the EU. That is assuming Brexit is not delayed. And what is the point in doing that? If they can't find a solution now, what difference will another 6 months make? David Cameron, you have a lot to answer for.<br />Here, we have local elections in May to coincide with elections for the European Parliament and a general election in April. And in everyone's mind, there is the trial of the 12 politicians in Madrid which will span both elections and undoubtedly influence the result.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">To me, the conflict here comes down to, "The right of self-determination". Does it exist for Catalunya or not? In a way, the trial is about this one principle. In my opinion, if every region in Europe had the right of self-determination, we would have small countries (or cities!) popping up all over the place. A United Nations charter is often quoted but that applies to regions which are under oppression and have no freedom. And although this is often raised as being the case here, it is simply not true. Catalunya has a great deal of autonomy and freedom. <br />My objection to independence is simply pragmatic; I don't see how it could work in economic or logistical terms. If the border between Ireland and Northern Ireland is a huge problem, have a look at the border between the rest of Spain and Catalunya. Most of Spanish road and rail transport with the rest of Europe passes through Catalunya, through the border at Perthus. If Catalunya achieved independence, according to the Constitution, it would automatically be outside the European Union and would have to re-apply for membership. I believe than even Quim Torra, the current President of Catalunya recognises that because recently he was talking about a trade agreement similar to that of Canada. It would be enormously complicated. Would it not be better to find some consensus short of a total split? <br />It is funny, after a lifetime of being a true-blue Tory in the UK, I am now part of the PSC team promoting Manel Roqueta as our new mayor. PSC, Partido Socialista de Catalunya. In fact, in the world as a whole, I am "socialist". I believe in sharing natural resources. When Scotland had its referendum for independence, much was said about the value of crude oil in the North Sea. But I felt that it was not "their" oil. Anyway, that is all water under the bridge. I thought is was madness to offer Scotland the opportunity to break away from the UK, in the same way as Catalunya deciding its own fate. In any case, it would not be certain that a legal referendum here would result in the wish for independence. And people like me who do not have a Spanish passport, despite being resident here, cannot vote anyway. <br />Although I am part of the team, I will not be standing as a councillor. I enjoy the summer too much to be sitting in an office dreaming about the municipal swimming pool next door. <br />From what I understand, I will still have a vote in the local elections despite no longer being a European citizen in May. There was a treaty signed recently between the UK and Spain called the Voting Rights Treaty which allows this. I assume it is still valid in the event of a no-deal Brexit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b><br />A bridge over the River Ter</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />I have long been frustrated by the lack of a foot crossing over the River Ter where I live in Celrà. The nearest crossing is either just beyond Flaçà or Saria de Ter which is almost part of Girona. In order to explore the other side of the river, I had to take a bus into Girona and then another bus out to St Julià de Ramis. The first time I did this, I took the wrong bus and, although the stop was called, "St Juilà de Ramis", it was miles away from where I wanted to go. The second time, I was much wiser.</span><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="450" src="https://www.google.com/maps/embed?pb=!1m14!1m12!1m3!1d33767.39638279143!2d2.8716569473312057!3d42.04437540933851!2m3!1f0!2f0!3f0!3m2!1i1024!2i768!4f13.1!5e1!3m2!1sen!2ses!4v1550751604044" style="border: 0;" width="450"></iframe>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUkcY5rokbLu117fFILyUshEzVGY6LHnCg42t7G1Va8PsB5en3oLbG6L-TemLTTT4ZR7VTFuxVzp6d9XmcUyYTCGRILx8Q6DFsgGW5qgz2AkUsnNHWgwXLmoOQqIaJqGjictsc6Bi_dLS/s1600/P1000125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUkcY5rokbLu117fFILyUshEzVGY6LHnCg42t7G1Va8PsB5en3oLbG6L-TemLTTT4ZR7VTFuxVzp6d9XmcUyYTCGRILx8Q6DFsgGW5qgz2AkUsnNHWgwXLmoOQqIaJqGjictsc6Bi_dLS/s320/P1000125.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJS4D8XgQ_Jrk4cwpb2ituxWBdqKoeaJLMg9Y6hf_WdON25M2QKhh3zv1NfBT4Bh_cIby7QSZAPXvzEbkvFn1P1fCgclwV47tdO1SzTMUrv5_yog5OrKMpl2ZRX8a4m6yWUdOC3uWIJseB/s1600/P1000145-mod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJS4D8XgQ_Jrk4cwpb2ituxWBdqKoeaJLMg9Y6hf_WdON25M2QKhh3zv1NfBT4Bh_cIby7QSZAPXvzEbkvFn1P1fCgclwV47tdO1SzTMUrv5_yog5OrKMpl2ZRX8a4m6yWUdOC3uWIJseB/s320/P1000145-mod.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />There is a new attraction at Sant Julia, la Fortalesa. For many years there was an abandoned fort on a hill overlooking the river valley back to Girona. I drove up there many years ago. Then for about 5 years, there were two cranes operating on the site and now we can all see the result. There is a museum of jewellery, a restaurant and a luxury hotel and restaurant. It is an easy walk up from the Ajuntament of Sant Julià on the NIIa to la Fortalesa. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />On my second visit to the other side of the river, I was looking for a possible site for a bridge but maybe there is not sufficient demand to justify the cost. The obvious location is a concrete roadway which stops abruptly at the river on the side of Celrà. Oh, the frustration, a few metres away is Medinyá. Well, it is not the most beautiful town in the world but directly opposite my bridge "site" is a path which, one way, leads to Figueres and the other direction to Sant Julià de Ramis and Sarria de Ter. I took the latter route and it was wonderful. It follows open land close to the river and next to the AP7 autoroute. Then there is a bridge over the River Terri and then a signposted walk by the river, with a number of signs showing typical wild-life in the region. I followed the path right down to the corner which is very close to the railway and the C66 road between Girona and Celrà. Then I followed the river back to the Ajuntament of Sant Julià de Ramis where I arrived in good time for a bus back to Girona.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6oJxjDw3zMKUcFJ9WpA7av_pzol9dRpoMhZE0I_pwOKqqMaXNsJLO7MgipYlyeUuSokjH-Qpk3QlqmokuTaaMvGxU1XtL8H2TNZ-IXL7MRR__Sqss0chk_HBJZqmRYWp6SHGO18NA4bYn/s1600/P1000127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6oJxjDw3zMKUcFJ9WpA7av_pzol9dRpoMhZE0I_pwOKqqMaXNsJLO7MgipYlyeUuSokjH-Qpk3QlqmokuTaaMvGxU1XtL8H2TNZ-IXL7MRR__Sqss0chk_HBJZqmRYWp6SHGO18NA4bYn/s320/P1000127.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvrkR2EWK1G4B0EzEeZcjHPdYv0yO716OP4azX4X5cLk51a9jTBMmBsLnXNd8y4U-IQtcuhtysCcZ82AGVx10IrStIUkNUm4SHr2r-tt9st9dsWPhYSFCS1hIc17YgTFpMMoZnuQfRXmks/s1600/P1000153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvrkR2EWK1G4B0EzEeZcjHPdYv0yO716OP4azX4X5cLk51a9jTBMmBsLnXNd8y4U-IQtcuhtysCcZ82AGVx10IrStIUkNUm4SHr2r-tt9st9dsWPhYSFCS1hIc17YgTFpMMoZnuQfRXmks/s320/P1000153.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the concrete roadway, from the Medinyà side (A)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdiaS66QZKwdq8lkSqI686SCngpsdhrF19JN9RBYRE-NxicyIoWC5PnivEJawLnVYszYi1n0WLrUZW03HHUVlwHRWWGt6YgxvFg9xnq-HtyreR31CCJ-JgmYsfKMjOVnZH94VCVBHgPMzm/s1600/map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="446" data-original-width="581" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdiaS66QZKwdq8lkSqI686SCngpsdhrF19JN9RBYRE-NxicyIoWC5PnivEJawLnVYszYi1n0WLrUZW03HHUVlwHRWWGt6YgxvFg9xnq-HtyreR31CCJ-JgmYsfKMjOVnZH94VCVBHgPMzm/s320/map.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQjasIZNPhRILAoIUMyk2TWwDa6Kg2A6m5zeyUgYtzpq4CExlIGBWA4m7SyRxw8e55GB-B4MPmqokbrn5bQCkenzqvi54eTvSDgxjTJDfTDoDIK_DIT31inw-RAQFjPpFjHOnM04C1xIX/s1600/P1000156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQjasIZNPhRILAoIUMyk2TWwDa6Kg2A6m5zeyUgYtzpq4CExlIGBWA4m7SyRxw8e55GB-B4MPmqokbrn5bQCkenzqvi54eTvSDgxjTJDfTDoDIK_DIT31inw-RAQFjPpFjHOnM04C1xIX/s320/P1000156.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">another view of (A)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5ByhruEP1aiGmBySU7sKjy-1IHQ03c7eThBPVSn5an2c4yC4mdAM8a7vOz_sTgu9eo-6SNQvcQjGMWozpAdETzt2a2-oyYo8YLf0ebJw0QkfI9M2ZU2lDwvdWIEqjiP6V_jyzUSgDUh3/s1600/P1000171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5ByhruEP1aiGmBySU7sKjy-1IHQ03c7eThBPVSn5an2c4yC4mdAM8a7vOz_sTgu9eo-6SNQvcQjGMWozpAdETzt2a2-oyYo8YLf0ebJw0QkfI9M2ZU2lDwvdWIEqjiP6V_jyzUSgDUh3/s320/P1000171.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is where I normally visit...(B) but from the Sant Julià side!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLo65R6KE-DL0Y-FoZBf9NiOZBhw6X6HL-dX0DoEIA986S_hqOn3XKMqw9elZj2ktMhv_69FsEgTmAbtojldqDWL5bzAxYG9HtjXzbby6tchHEkWo5PFONBKyE-3MIsmxMrHcTI_HudmxD/s1600/P1000168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLo65R6KE-DL0Y-FoZBf9NiOZBhw6X6HL-dX0DoEIA986S_hqOn3XKMqw9elZj2ktMhv_69FsEgTmAbtojldqDWL5bzAxYG9HtjXzbby6tchHEkWo5PFONBKyE-3MIsmxMrHcTI_HudmxD/s320/P1000168.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />On the internet, I found a website which described how to build a suspension bridge. I contacted the guy who built it (he is in Seattle) and I bought his book. But when I sat down by the river crossing where the roadway ends, I though that it would be better as a cable-stayed bridge. It would be asymetrical getting most of its strength from the concrete.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0lPoAJnrPt2fSwVgYJLP24AB7rBYRcu3Up5ZM8zzzM5AxmkcUCoiii-tTXyLrFJfMQw7up3nUQEDKjEg54QfHIoAie1KcidZ5vRZ4yXhxf9Ta-G5aji0uw02IsYGChOtLdmVJb_r37O16/s1600/bridge4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="937" data-original-width="1600" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0lPoAJnrPt2fSwVgYJLP24AB7rBYRcu3Up5ZM8zzzM5AxmkcUCoiii-tTXyLrFJfMQw7up3nUQEDKjEg54QfHIoAie1KcidZ5vRZ4yXhxf9Ta-G5aji0uw02IsYGChOtLdmVJb_r37O16/s320/bridge4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicP3Uj9pB_k2Djo2qoDPAEmRb42Hord13yBChK6X_K6yHNMBJd9pifcQISMmXYwVbs_yQs3NSgPvB7eC0hTBo2vQQR6aKndzJUAcR0NjIQ8lQ5NLbfwtvWW-zT-SqMW8R_o_RMdfIj4L5p/s1600/close.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="815" data-original-width="1201" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicP3Uj9pB_k2Djo2qoDPAEmRb42Hord13yBChK6X_K6yHNMBJd9pifcQISMmXYwVbs_yQs3NSgPvB7eC0hTBo2vQQR6aKndzJUAcR0NjIQ8lQ5NLbfwtvWW-zT-SqMW8R_o_RMdfIj4L5p/s320/close.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">it is crying out for a bridge!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />This is my dream, to build this footbridge. I would use local tradesmen. There is even a source of cable because there is plenty of that in the overhead wires of the abandoned railway into the industrial estate. Maybe I will wait until we have our new Ajuntament, maybe Manel will be mayor! At the moment, the ruling party is the far-left CUP. We in the team want a village for everyone. We speak Spanish at our meetings which is great for me because I don't speak Catalan. I understand it reasonably well but I would have no idea how to construct a sentence.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Oh, I nearly forgot. Ad Mundi in the railway station in Girona has started selling my cards again!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6GQEjD2c_UghtIfCioS2UGKvyFLIBsZS2ze-GUbWmVUwvPr1L8DTQbNNtvGz5JYYuyy54riMom2R6xZuUFXFVlSGB63hp7tzyz0YfP54_uFOrILabkYxlAJbSiXkGBcDb0W0S96kM5PB/s1600/P1000075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6GQEjD2c_UghtIfCioS2UGKvyFLIBsZS2ze-GUbWmVUwvPr1L8DTQbNNtvGz5JYYuyy54riMom2R6xZuUFXFVlSGB63hp7tzyz0YfP54_uFOrILabkYxlAJbSiXkGBcDb0W0S96kM5PB/s320/P1000075.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-9068953210663412562018-12-26T17:39:00.000+01:002019-01-07T11:16:57.947+01:00Ukraine Part 2<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I hope you are keeping up with this! At 8am on Wednesday 19th December, I arrived back at Kyiv Airport after a 6 hour flight from Dubai desperate for a bed. Ligena Hotel to the rescue! I had booked a room during the day because I had decided to visit Marina in Kharkiv, then return to see Marta before returning to Spain. The hotel shuttle soon arrived and after breakfast I crashed into bed and slept about 2 hours, but very deeply. So, by the time I was ready to catch my flight to Kharkiv at 3pm, I felt fine. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The actual flight time is about 40 minutes, Marina was working so I took an airport taxi to Hotel19 which is where I always stay when in Kharkiv. Marina came to see me later and we had a meal in the restaurant. Although part of the same organisation, the restaurant operates separately. Unfortunately, Marina left a plastic bag with her school books in the restaurant (she also teaches English) and we had a very difficult time getting it back. Next morning Marina asked if they had found it. Reply: no. On the morning of my departure next day, having checked with a taxi driver that she didn't leave it in his car, she asked again whether they had found her bag. The answer again was no. She left her phone number in case they found it. In the taxi going back to the airport, she received a phone call. Someone had taken it up to the hotel reception, not telling anyone. Obviously they realised whose bag it was because I was resident in the hotel. I never though to ask reception in the hotel as they are quite separate. To add insult to injury, two chocolate bars which were in the bag were missing. Marina gave them a hard time, I think. She takes these insults personally, as would I. Their security guy thought, "Hey, what good fortune, a reward for picking up the bag". I think I will not be staying at Hotel19 again.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEgZVFamJPzJvxm2GYllVTjRd0MxHsgMtagZGwwjAYh0k87AZDJugUjDnZQycCpK0J2JFKiIxC_Uxy0Lo7NoGB5SCwOuUJcI4EREduNj_4T32_vLrvp6buVRaXrplWBhpEeBeXwAkncIpy/s1600/P1000072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEgZVFamJPzJvxm2GYllVTjRd0MxHsgMtagZGwwjAYh0k87AZDJugUjDnZQycCpK0J2JFKiIxC_Uxy0Lo7NoGB5SCwOuUJcI4EREduNj_4T32_vLrvp6buVRaXrplWBhpEeBeXwAkncIpy/s320/P1000072.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marina at Karavan Shopping Mall</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I got ahead of myself because I spent the whole of Thursday in Kharkiv. We visited Karavan shopping mall (haha, yet another shopping mall), had some food and Marina headed off to give a private lesson. We met up again in the evening for a really nice meal here. There was a singer on the stage with a delicate voice, at first I thought it was Karaoke.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYga88m2vVNTyOEA5n9sFG3WlgvqMQAHk-i4FK04TJQBlUNMwGMDA5uTAWeinxaqfBPM_veuV3hI_XSgZBriN12b-FxLRuWfiGJRtfxbG1vooHJbyTGt4svUGj_2nXSeWjeD8A52-jC56k/s1600/20181220_211203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYga88m2vVNTyOEA5n9sFG3WlgvqMQAHk-i4FK04TJQBlUNMwGMDA5uTAWeinxaqfBPM_veuV3hI_XSgZBriN12b-FxLRuWfiGJRtfxbG1vooHJbyTGt4svUGj_2nXSeWjeD8A52-jC56k/s320/20181220_211203.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Next morning, Friday, at 11.30, I headed back to Kyiv. Marina stayed with me at the airport until I had to go through to check-in. At 1pm, I was back in Kyiv and this time, I took the train to the city centre. I had a light meal in the Ibis but did not check in, I was heading back to Nizhyn at 5pm. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Marta met me at the station with Toli and we went back to the apartment via a supermarket where I paid for food and drink. Marta proudly showed me her new sofa-bed. So, no sleeping on the floor this time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There is not much to tell you about my second weekend in Nizhyn, Marta offered an excursion back to Chernohiv but I was happy doing nothing, we cleaned the windows, just ordinary weekend jobs. Before I left, we fitted a large wall clock, where the numerals are fixed separately to the wall. On Saturday night, Marta and I went to a really nice restaurant about 10 minutes walk from her apartment. We got a little bit drunk on a bottle of wine and she instigated a snowball fight on the way back. I laughed so much that it hurt. What is more, I was so much in stitches that she clearly won the fight, I was unable to return her fire.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtiU9jJrNFuoWZ5oz6hYs3wVj9zs0n5Mjz7eRlKw6BteztN7_rIDX8_G7jxKkyJJk51RKFxlx3wlA023r7WQdArQv9Z0L2kHZyHrx_sfb87ZeweV5fHF5nRdWGoNcltDXLjMbzYamaeEBC/s1600/20181222_211315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtiU9jJrNFuoWZ5oz6hYs3wVj9zs0n5Mjz7eRlKw6BteztN7_rIDX8_G7jxKkyJJk51RKFxlx3wlA023r7WQdArQv9Z0L2kHZyHrx_sfb87ZeweV5fHF5nRdWGoNcltDXLjMbzYamaeEBC/s320/20181222_211315.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKxbmQr2Lc71S6XZZ43qk_oWma4-js-x-fTaAzSbXmu7f-QJaRjWrFgqOmS4MqAR6JdmSSRBoJLOOL46sda42E5pfl6FP04bb7o84KJ7Jkwrrn27pQu4PPNxIaXU3yBD6OeZt24qQe8Bq_/s1600/20181222_211255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKxbmQr2Lc71S6XZZ43qk_oWma4-js-x-fTaAzSbXmu7f-QJaRjWrFgqOmS4MqAR6JdmSSRBoJLOOL46sda42E5pfl6FP04bb7o84KJ7Jkwrrn27pQu4PPNxIaXU3yBD6OeZt24qQe8Bq_/s320/20181222_211255.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I won!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>(Maybe you have guessed.... these photos were taken after the real event. I would not have risked my phone!)</i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On Sunday, we went for a light meal in another restaurant and I took this photo which I really like, partly due to the colours. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNHNOz7BXTfJy-zDZ1emBsLiu0b_gcuhfqk1055uAdfK9q0bJvOWebRw4KNnsM35NajE13NuyWbcZl8VWAxJ8DhM48RATONo-Yu-B0j68wTzhyW11c7txnRBPsEn2lxslD4_aur5GlTTf/s1600/20181223_144348-cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1283" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNHNOz7BXTfJy-zDZ1emBsLiu0b_gcuhfqk1055uAdfK9q0bJvOWebRw4KNnsM35NajE13NuyWbcZl8VWAxJ8DhM48RATONo-Yu-B0j68wTzhyW11c7txnRBPsEn2lxslD4_aur5GlTTf/s320/20181223_144348-cropped.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, I have almost come to the end of my Ukraine and Dubai story. I took the train back to Kyiv but I have already written about my journey back to Spain in my post, "A new Adventure".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-39690351310189581072018-12-26T17:02:00.001+01:002019-04-07T14:21:33.564+02:00Dubai again... but this time via Kyiv!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have been to Dubai very many times in connection with my work in the UK. I had a client there, a large shopping mall with apartments above. That ended in 2000 when they rennovated the place and added a large extension. My 20 year old system was replaced too, it served them well. And at about that time, I retired anyway so I was not sad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But this time, faced with a long cold December in Kyiv, I decided to go back yet another time. It was not expensive and the flight was 6 hours.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As I mentioned in my previous post, I arrived back from Nizhyn on Sunday evening and my flight to Dubai was at 7pm on Tuesday so I spent 2 pleasant nights in the Ibis Hotel by the railway station and, after a paid-for late checkout, took the Skybus to the airport. I arrived in Dubai at around 2.30am local time, took a taxi to the Ibis at World Trade Centre and crashed out. When I was installing my building management system in the shopping mall around 1980, we all stayed in "digs" very close to the World Trade Centre which is a white tower out towards Jebel Ali. Now it is dwarfed by all the new buildings along the (6 carriageway) road to Dubai Marina and onward to Abu Dhabi. One of the two Metro lines also follows the same route. And I chose World Trade Centre because it is mid-way between Deira which is where I stayed previously and the new shopping malls along the highway. I spent a lot of time travelling on the Metro, it was perfect.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span class="tlid-translation translation">He estado en Dubai muchas veces en relación con mi trabajo en el Reino Unido. Tenía un cliente allí, un gran centro comercial con apartamentos arriba. Eso terminó en el 2000 cuando renovaron el lugar y agregaron una gran extensión. Mi sistema de 20 años también fue reemplazado, les sirvió bien. Y en ese momento, me retiré de todos modos, así que no estaba triste.<br />Pero esta vez, ante un largo y frío mes de diciembre en Kiev, decidí volver otra vez. No fue caro y el vuelo fue de 6 horas.<br />Como mencioné en mi publicación anterior, regresé de Nizhyn el domingo por la noche y mi vuelo a Dubai fue a las 7 pm del martes, así que pasé 2 noches agradables en el Hotel Ibis junto a la estación de trenes y, después de un pago para salir tarde, Tomé el Skybus al aeropuerto. Llegué a Dubai a las 2.30 am hora local, tomé un taxi hasta el Ibis en el World Trade Center y fui directamente a cama! Cuando instalé mi sistema de administración de edificios en el centro comercial alrededor de 1980, todos los ingenieros quedamos en cuartos muy cerca del World Trade Center, que es una torre blanca hacia Jebel Ali. Ahora está empequeñecido por todos los edificios nuevos a lo largo de la carretera (6 de la calzada) a Dubai Marina y luego a Abu Dhabi. Una de las dos líneas de Metro también sigue la misma ruta. Y elegí el World Trade Center porque está a medio camino entre Deira, que es donde me alojé anteriormente y los nuevos centros comerciales a lo largo de la carretera. Pasé mucho tiempo viajando en el metro, estaba perfecto!</span></span> </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4S9ql6vavSuVNXB5a9tJoQUi0yFhUNNhe7l9tLsFXYhqnKhpnWKQjW0MswKZUT-7PoNlJopguF0rVx2SY1AG7JmWjo8vJi55P54TVRb4efAvt_hXFT8FtUJBhnmz1FL1kod7_oH6Xqv07/s1600/P1000027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4S9ql6vavSuVNXB5a9tJoQUi0yFhUNNhe7l9tLsFXYhqnKhpnWKQjW0MswKZUT-7PoNlJopguF0rVx2SY1AG7JmWjo8vJi55P54TVRb4efAvt_hXFT8FtUJBhnmz1FL1kod7_oH6Xqv07/s320/P1000027.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">World Trade Centre district</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I woke at 9am, had some breakfast and headed out to explore. I took the Metro to Deira and bought a SIM for my phone. I visited a shopping mall, bought some food for the fridge in Carrefour (very big in Dubai!) I can't remember what I did for the rest of the day but it was great to be back in my old haunts. Deira hasn't changed very much, all the big changes are along the highway and Metro line.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I discovered the hotel pool which was actually shared with the Novotel just down the road. I often took a walk down there. On one occasion, there were three girls speaking either Russian or Ukrainian but one was wearing a tanga which even made me blush. Effectively nothing at the rear, maybe there was a kind of string but I couldn't see it. I looked very hard (actually this is a joke, I found it ugly and decided to move). Maybe someone should have pointed out that Dubai etiquette extends to hotel pools also. I was embarrassed on account of the location, at the free beach where I go during the summer, she would have been overdressed and I would have had no problem with it!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The hotel bar had a Cuban theme and the three girls working there were Cuban so I could chat with them in Spanish. The price for a large beer during happy hour was about €5 but was double that after 8pm. There were dance classes which I loved, particularly Salsa on my last night (in fact I went directly to the airport afterwards). This video is of the teacher dancing Kizomba with a friend of his, she was a singer. Kizomba originates in Angola but is popular in Latin America.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span class="tlid-translation translation">Me desperté a las 9 am, desayuné y salí para explorar. Tomé el metro hasta Deira y compré una tarjeta SIM para mi teléfono. Visité un centro comercial, compré algo de comida para la nevera en Carrefour (¡muy grande en Dubai!) No puedo recordar lo que hice durante el resto del día, pero fue genial volver a mis viejos lugares. Deira no ha cambiado mucho, todos los grandes cambios se producen a lo largo de la carretera y la línea de metro.<br /><br />Descubrí la piscina del hotel, que en realidad fue compartida con el Novotel justo al final de la calle. A menudo salía a caminar por allí. En una ocasión, tres chicas hablaban ruso o ucraniano, pero una llevaba un tanga que incluso me hizo sonrojar. Efectivamente nada en la parte trasera, tal vez había una especie de cuerda pero no podía verla. Miré muy duro (en realidad esto es una broma, lo encontré feo y decidí moverme). Tal vez alguien debería haber señalado que la etiqueta de Dubai también se extiende a las piscinas de los hoteles. Me sentí avergonzada por la ubicación, en la playa "libre" a la que voy durante el verano, ella habría llevado puesto demasiado (inglés: <span style="color: black;">over-dressed</span>) y yo no habría tenido ningún problema con eso!<br /><br />El bar del hotel tenía una temática cubana y las tres chicas que trabajaban allí eran cubanas, por lo que pude conversar con ellas en español. El precio de una cerveza grande durante la hora feliz fue de aproximadamente 5 €, pero fue el doble después de las 8 pm. Hubo clases de baile que me encantaron, especialmente Salsa en mi última noche (de hecho, fui directamente al aeropuerto después). Este video es de la maestra bailando Kizomba con un amigo suyo, ella era una cantante. Kizomba se origina en Angola, pero es popular en América Latina.</span></span> </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dynYovDPoSd0he8e10Hc5n6iXdmTu60zjtwxGj0dYBmGW9sT2PYynQAn-DMLztuZC2Pt2--uSOfoXAJiSRPJQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Generally Dubai is very expensive if one wants to maintain the alcohol habit because that means eating and drinking in the hotels, but go dry and it is not expensive. There are lots of cheap places to eat in Deira.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span class="" title="">En general, Dubai es muy costoso si uno quiere mantener el hábito del alcohol porque eso significa comer y beber en los hoteles, pero secarse (no tomar alcohol!) y Dubai no es caro.</span> <span class="" title="">Hay muchos lugares baratos para comer en Deira.</span></span></span> </span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsn3yrb1jQtJcmnC3acA_4s5XpZ1qhIYeZre0Gm5Q2rRgClGgVQJf9a3PXHbFccFpKnVJtVI1qO_zyZeHFc6d5dW0Q5VONSnTrzsgsr4JCql70d4_4PzMosF4qjCraK313X3VsDogwm4U/s1600/20181218_171353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsn3yrb1jQtJcmnC3acA_4s5XpZ1qhIYeZre0Gm5Q2rRgClGgVQJf9a3PXHbFccFpKnVJtVI1qO_zyZeHFc6d5dW0Q5VONSnTrzsgsr4JCql70d4_4PzMosF4qjCraK313X3VsDogwm4U/s320/20181218_171353.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kite Beach.<br />
If you look closely, right in the centre is the gleaming spire of Burj Khalifa</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnv0BMotynwKcNTwF-cHFrnG37vOBRCTFTedGpMYgC_4jqnAV-r1-IgMqj7ZsRFLdSAy6J73HkdchGSHsV6_tK82aK19kf0ha_Z5OamXv-7Ef-w2rDENuCxrBRislRyOseJkoQHvpJc_Fg/s1600/20181218_171359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnv0BMotynwKcNTwF-cHFrnG37vOBRCTFTedGpMYgC_4jqnAV-r1-IgMqj7ZsRFLdSAy6J73HkdchGSHsV6_tK82aK19kf0ha_Z5OamXv-7Ef-w2rDENuCxrBRislRyOseJkoQHvpJc_Fg/s320/20181218_171359.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my last night in Dubai</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I visited Jumeira Beach near Dubai Marina and on my last day, took the hotel shuttle to Kite Beach. I spent lots of time in shopping malls so I didn't return with a sun tan. In any case, although the temperature was around 28c, the sun is not very strong at this time of year.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span>
<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span title="">Visité la playa de Jumeira cerca del puerto deportivo de Dubai y, en mi último día, tomé el servicio de traslado del hotel a Kite Beach.</span> <span title="">Pasé mucho tiempo en centros comerciales, así que no regresé con un bronceado.</span> <span class="" title="">En cualquier caso, aunque la temperatura era de alrededor de 28 ° C, el sol no es muy fuerte en esta época del año.</span></span></span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIohGBwyyIXfgglGktFtABxWuYn7yz-I23RTU8oSD3RJMb1CZlHZfzIaHb1OSty4rv1a8fMFCHMGl_Hghchaz7p94MEVdnD_a17H1us5ZRdUtWuekyxCRhyb7cOcsb2W0rlrniXSZ8ZOE4/s1600/20181214_155755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIohGBwyyIXfgglGktFtABxWuYn7yz-I23RTU8oSD3RJMb1CZlHZfzIaHb1OSty4rv1a8fMFCHMGl_Hghchaz7p94MEVdnD_a17H1us5ZRdUtWuekyxCRhyb7cOcsb2W0rlrniXSZ8ZOE4/s320/20181214_155755.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jumeira Beach</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I went up Burj Khalifa!</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDu_TgepGnzRT2A7YCyAmKOrU45gJ2hHQXrPnJGhq-XTmpQxox7vTZSTOcxmoA5LXeHoDnHSQviNRklSsupgHJ9r7vhCAUDfTucmaMKqqkbGe3h3Ss9qTgIn1O-OwVA9LXTxU40ew2DC7B/s1600/P1000034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDu_TgepGnzRT2A7YCyAmKOrU45gJ2hHQXrPnJGhq-XTmpQxox7vTZSTOcxmoA5LXeHoDnHSQviNRklSsupgHJ9r7vhCAUDfTucmaMKqqkbGe3h3Ss9qTgIn1O-OwVA9LXTxU40ew2DC7B/s320/P1000034.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Some people were putting their phones up against the open slot which you can see in the photo to get a clear picture. I asked one of the attendants if anyone had ever dropped their phone through the slot. It is a very long way down, death for the phone and also for anyone under it! I definitely do not have a head for heights, I was glad to get down. The glass is very thick but it does nothing to prevent that very odd feeling of wanting to jump out into space!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span title="">Algunas personas colocaron sus teléfonos en la ranura abierta que se puede ver en la foto para obtener una imagen clara.</span> <span title="">Le pregunté a uno de los asistentes si alguien había dejado caer su teléfono a través de la ranura.</span> <span title="">Es un largo camino hacia abajo, ¡la muerte para el teléfono y también para cualquier persona debajo de él!</span> <span title="">Definitivamente no tengo cabeza para las alturas, me alegré de bajar.</span> <span class="" title="">El vidrio es muy grueso, pero no hace nada para evitar esa extraña sensación de querer saltar al espacio!</span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc_RpQ6vNyHLBEtOp7uSW2sGfY1GzM2AvFtmfq0V2xI3vtIGcK4oRMD5c3Tb-w5_og2tvKZjL0nmQoMqYORXV6mtwNCKUXFUTl1lxYCU0PkyVhP4I9nSxaFuPQqODIhjnzI4aENyET8IsU/s1600/P1000036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc_RpQ6vNyHLBEtOp7uSW2sGfY1GzM2AvFtmfq0V2xI3vtIGcK4oRMD5c3Tb-w5_og2tvKZjL0nmQoMqYORXV6mtwNCKUXFUTl1lxYCU0PkyVhP4I9nSxaFuPQqODIhjnzI4aENyET8IsU/s320/P1000036.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5S-HMZeay6ZUGZ9kD8twNl-7Fo7PSFe6BH3TijSddX84c3dA9e2kGMUgp8M-Vxiyjh-EyJylUuabgA9Z-W0YdJ30l1BXKll_Cotrh3ZuTMIhecGvcZHdv37LpF2uSULxN1LOyoxsDbOb_/s1600/P1000054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5S-HMZeay6ZUGZ9kD8twNl-7Fo7PSFe6BH3TijSddX84c3dA9e2kGMUgp8M-Vxiyjh-EyJylUuabgA9Z-W0YdJ30l1BXKll_Cotrh3ZuTMIhecGvcZHdv37LpF2uSULxN1LOyoxsDbOb_/s320/P1000054.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGcMlqRcr_XjLMWkHnfSN-GI6OTKXUg-ao07BX4mWLOPmUzxg7itysLAYy_zzB_r1EcA-9zATlv43RqsrHU6cDma3G274dh9PWNKB1nXLIS8px4ifL9T-csqklb_fpJ2haMx1swKYUITG/s1600/P1000062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGcMlqRcr_XjLMWkHnfSN-GI6OTKXUg-ao07BX4mWLOPmUzxg7itysLAYy_zzB_r1EcA-9zATlv43RqsrHU6cDma3G274dh9PWNKB1nXLIS8px4ifL9T-csqklb_fpJ2haMx1swKYUITG/s320/P1000062.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQWxqMloiHDNsR2TBReKu8NSb6OUz37XNHqwH6XmE1V1eiwFHrwNgcge7fJS5QVTGJgjL7tPE0HoPaRuRlcXdpmkPvsvfGJCttFA0QOAryU5eKyPyHFWCHMTLOG3hyN4YT81mifGO-ZKKl/s1600/P1000063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQWxqMloiHDNsR2TBReKu8NSb6OUz37XNHqwH6XmE1V1eiwFHrwNgcge7fJS5QVTGJgjL7tPE0HoPaRuRlcXdpmkPvsvfGJCttFA0QOAryU5eKyPyHFWCHMTLOG3hyN4YT81mifGO-ZKKl/s320/P1000063.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I visited the Gold Souk and bought presents for my friends. Most of the gold there is 18ct and I made a note of the price and weight of the pendants I bought. In Ukraine, only 14ct is sold as far as I could see, and it was more expensive per gram than 18ct in Dubai! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span class="" title="">Visité el Gold Souk y compré regalos para mis amigos.</span> <span class="" title="">La mayor parte del oro allí es 18ct y tomé nota del precio y el peso de los colgantes que compré.</span> <span class="" title="">En Ucrania, solo se vende 14ct por lo que pude ver, ¡y era más caro por gramo que 18ct en Dubai!</span></span></span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNRUqA6c-ScTEwAtDKwT7k042MqyRC7CUaYzRfVm9jkMiA06COLXPetiVvfyW6KuTtKp7P5BgIpxr8arqKjq7VePPtrrMBuG2crSLjsd8c6GtC39nZhqLZqa5kTNZ1kgrqYrmtVV9791H5/s1600/P1000031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNRUqA6c-ScTEwAtDKwT7k042MqyRC7CUaYzRfVm9jkMiA06COLXPetiVvfyW6KuTtKp7P5BgIpxr8arqKjq7VePPtrrMBuG2crSLjsd8c6GtC39nZhqLZqa5kTNZ1kgrqYrmtVV9791H5/s320/P1000031.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dubai Gold Souk</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aW-kcqlbXP5sY82KN3u1Y4SZW6D2N3YX-FxECwFhyphenhyphenlr6DpBRlPhCBw89OGxmqwTvmCnsSKoEIdLyr3XKDDPsu_BjVQL8344Q9G7JMqVhkvs4sBuw40SfeKA4lBwKDv1Za8Xm48cF5fdO/s1600/scv_15450347726487226736708083842145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1232" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aW-kcqlbXP5sY82KN3u1Y4SZW6D2N3YX-FxECwFhyphenhyphenlr6DpBRlPhCBw89OGxmqwTvmCnsSKoEIdLyr3XKDDPsu_BjVQL8344Q9G7JMqVhkvs4sBuw40SfeKA4lBwKDv1Za8Xm48cF5fdO/s320/scv_15450347726487226736708083842145.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starbucks? Nooo!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My final night in Dubai was Tuesday 18th with a Salsa class in the bar. I then went to the airport by Metro at about 10.30pm and used my Privilege card to check into the executive lounge. I had some food and wine and waited for my flight back to Kyiv at 3am. I felt very tired of course but after one day back in Ukraine, I was fine. I will tell you about Ukraine Part 2 in my next post!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span class="" title="">Mi última noche en Dubai fue el martes 18 con una clase de salsa en el bar.</span> <span class="" title="">Luego fui al aeropuerto en Metro alrededor de las 10.30 pm y usé mi tarjeta Privilege para ingresar al salón ejecutivo.</span> <span title="">Tomé algo de comida y vino y esperé mi vuelo de regreso a Kiev a las 3 am.</span> <span title="">Por supuesto, me sentí muy cansado, pero después de un día en Ucrania, estaba bien.</span> <span class="" title="">¡Te contaré sobre Ucrania Parte 2 en mi próximo post!</span></span></span> </span>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-790694939873503462018-12-26T14:41:00.002+01:002018-12-31T14:29:29.638+01:00Ukraine Part 1<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wrote in my previous post about arriving back in Barcelona after about 3 weeks away. I left home on 7th December and arrived back on Christmas Eve but I felt as though I had been away for longer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My journey to Kyiv on the 7th was uneventful and I have made the same journey many times! I catch a bus at 8.15am from my village and travel by high-speed train from Girona to Barcelona, then I take the airport train. The flight to Kyiv is at 1.30pm.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On arrival at Kyiv Boryspil Airport, I took the Sky Bus to the central station and checked into the Ibis hotel next to the station. I hope you are not getting bored!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span title="">Escribí en mi publicación anterior sobre el regreso a Barcelona después de unas 3 semanas.</span> <span title="">Salí de casa el 7 de diciembre y regresé la Nochebuena, pero sentí como si hubiera estado lejos por más tiempo.</span><br /><br /><span title="">Mi viaje a Kiev el día 7 transcurrió sin incidentes y he hecho el mismo viaje muchas veces!</span> <span title="">Tomo un autobús a las 8.15am de mi pueblo y viajo en tren de alta velocidad de Girona a Barcelona, luego tomo el tren del aeropuerto.</span> <span title="">El vuelo a Kiev es a las 13:30 h.</span><br /><br /><span title="">Al llegar al aeropuerto de Kyiv Boryspil, tomé el Sky Bus hasta la estación central y me registré en el hotel Ibis al lado de la estación.</span> <span class="" title="">Espero que no te aburras!</span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zIyKQ4rex8vwE1wz-VtNbrjnztgenPUyCC3w5OmMTbNnrAtCJQRoAqUzLlghp_sz3X8I5E8vXEekR-Oh6as7rnwE7c0qbJ6B8lUKs9B65DSVGH2DAZxDUSvkdxzbAKEiDS6Tdm2VOKPb/s1600/20181210_094229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zIyKQ4rex8vwE1wz-VtNbrjnztgenPUyCC3w5OmMTbNnrAtCJQRoAqUzLlghp_sz3X8I5E8vXEekR-Oh6as7rnwE7c0qbJ6B8lUKs9B65DSVGH2DAZxDUSvkdxzbAKEiDS6Tdm2VOKPb/s320/20181210_094229.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo5oyznQOw4zgf-eQX-RZ-RQnbaaM3v7zQ-5yMaa5rHdLML4pO0PwbF89YbHXw0yxILz2HRxA0NrnhyjISBoWrH-5XIlByF6CuhxIpK-POpd1GQ7EB6e3r7xLw0WotDNmVIyfXjjpIbLGL/s1600/20181210_100708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo5oyznQOw4zgf-eQX-RZ-RQnbaaM3v7zQ-5yMaa5rHdLML4pO0PwbF89YbHXw0yxILz2HRxA0NrnhyjISBoWrH-5XIlByF6CuhxIpK-POpd1GQ7EB6e3r7xLw0WotDNmVIyfXjjpIbLGL/s320/20181210_100708.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4yZC44L3yGJ1mM7jNkeY2BnS3wc8tth-ijrR52TnFEX41uLjY0F31Y05jTXEchJYpjUBBVk7C0V65ytHOkSW9FR0Kn7XYUJ20oZdjE9CXrXCC9-j9HKmxNuR0N9q4RFh5-fFfngRqThc_/s1600/20181210_114612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4yZC44L3yGJ1mM7jNkeY2BnS3wc8tth-ijrR52TnFEX41uLjY0F31Y05jTXEchJYpjUBBVk7C0V65ytHOkSW9FR0Kn7XYUJ20oZdjE9CXrXCC9-j9HKmxNuR0N9q4RFh5-fFfngRqThc_/s320/20181210_114612.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I had breakfast at Puzata Xata which is a chain of cafeterias in Ukraine. The breakfast was something in the order of €3. The confectionery shop, Roshen had a seasonal window display. Roshen which has a chain of shops is the company of Petro Poroshenko, the President of Ukraine.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span title="">Desayuné en Puzata Xata, que es una cadena de cafeterías en Ucrania.</span> <span title="">El desayuno era algo del orden de 3 €.</span> <span title="">La tienda de confitería, Roshen tenía un escaparate de temporada.</span> <span class="" title="">Roshen, que tiene una cadena de tiendas, es la compañía de Petro Poroshenko, el presidente de Ucrania.</span></span></span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Next morning, I took a train at 10am to Nizhyn where my friend Marta lives. She has a new apartment and parts of it were still being finished (you can see that in the photo below!) She picked me up at the station with her friend Toli (Anotoli) in his car and we all went back to her apartment.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span title="">Por la mañana siguiente, tomé un tren a las 10 am a Nizhyn, donde vive mi amiga Marta.</span> <span class="" title="">Ella tiene un apartamento nuevo y partes de él aún estaban siendo terminadas (puedes verlo en la foto de abajo). Me recogió en la estación con su amiga Toli (Anotoli) en su auto y todos regresamos a su apartamento.</span></span></span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Their plan was to go to Chernihiv (Чернігів) to choose a table for the kitchen but they had very little success, I was happy because I found a perfect warm jacket to replace the one I brought with me. When later I wrote to Marina to say where we had been, I got the name of the city wrong and she wrote back, "Chernobil??" It is not far away because the "Cher--" part is the name is the region.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The journey was about 100km which took us quite a long time by road so we arrived back early evening and Toli left us to go to work (he drives trucks, often during the night). Marta wanted to put me up in her apartment but she was still waiting delivery of a sofa-bed so we went to what to me seems to be the only hotel in town (I stayed there before). Unfortunately she had overlooked to book a room and they were full. As we walked out dejected, a large group of children arrived!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I had a look in Booking.com and found a hotel 20km out of town. "I will take a taxi, stay the night and come come next morning," I offered. This was not acceptable for Marta, she felt responsible for me and I was touched, of course. She phoned Toli who came back with his car and we drove around town looking without success for somewhere where I could stay. By now it was about 8pm and I didn't know where I would be spending the night. Marta and Toli chatted between themselves in Ukrainian (naturally) and she said something about sleeping on the floor. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The next part was really strange. We drove up to steel doors and a guy opened them for Toli. We drove slowly past huge trucks in the gloom and I guessed this was his base. For a moment, I felt outside my <i>comfort zone</i> but it passed rapidly. We parked the car and Marta and Toli got out and left me there. After a few minutes, the rear door opened. I expected to hear, "Welcome Mr Bond, we have been expecting you." But instead, they threw in a load of bedding. Now I understood. This was for Marta who was to sleep on the floor, I was to have the luxury of her bed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Our next stop was a supermarket where they left me in the car. They returned with fish and beer and wine. The evening was looking up! We had a super evening in the apartment with supper and then Toli left us to go back to work, I guess. Toli doesn't speak English but with Marta as interpreter and much sign-language and the inevitable.. "Mesi... Barça.. Tottenham.. " we had lots of fun.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, that is how it ended up. Marta on the floor with bedding which we had desperately tried to dry out because it was rather damp, and me in her huge bed. She has underfloor heating so she said that she was very comfortable but I didn't believe her. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On Sunday we went looking for tables in Nizhyn. We went to one store which was very dreary and one table they showed us was really wobbly. The sales guy tried to reassure us by leaning forward on his arms on the table to stabilise it. Then we went to another small shop without success until I discovered a room which they had never seen on previous visits. We found the perfect table and chairs, so I was the hero of the hour. Toli called up one of his friends (<i>White van man</i>, we say in English) and we were soon installing the table and chairs in the kitchen. And immediately we put them to use with some lunch!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="tlid-translation translation">A la mañana siguiente, tomé un tren a las 10 am a Nizhyn, donde vive mi amiga Marta. Ella tiene un apartamento nuevo y partes de él aún estaban siendo terminadas (puedes verlo en la foto de abajo). Me recogió en la estación con su amiga Toli (Anotoli) en su auto y todos regresamos a su apartamento.<br /><span style="color: blue;"><br />Su plan era ir a Chernihiv (ернігів) para elegir una mesa para la cocina pero tuvieron muy poco éxito, me sentí feliz porque encontré una chaqueta cálida perfecta para reemplazar la que traje conmigo. Cuando más tarde le escribí a Marina para decirle dónde habíamos estado, entendí mal el nombre de la ciudad y ella me contestó: "¿Chernobil?" No está lejos porque la parte "Cher--" es el nombre es la región.<br /><br />El viaje fue de aproximadamente 100 km, lo que nos llevó bastante tiempo por carretera, así que llegamos temprano por la noche y Toli nos dejó para ir a trabajar (conduce camiones, a menudo durante la noche). Marta quería alojarme en su apartamento, pero seguía esperando la entrega de un sofá cama, así que fuimos a lo que, para mí, parece ser el único hotel de la ciudad (me alojé allí antes). Desafortunadamente ella había pasado por alto para reservar una habitación y estaban llenos. Cuando salimos abatidos, ¡llegó un gran grupo de niños!<br /><br />Eché un vistazo en Booking.com y encontré un hotel a 20 km de la ciudad. "Tomaré un taxi, pasaré la noche y vendré a la mañana siguiente", le ofrecí. Esto no era aceptable para Marta, ella se sentía responsable de mí y me conmovió, por supuesto. Telefoneó a Toli, quien regresó con su auto, y manejamos por la ciudad en busca de un lugar donde pudiera quedarme. Ya eran las 8 de la tarde y no sabía dónde pasaría la noche. Marta y Toli conversaron entre ellas en ucraniano (naturalmente) y ella dijo algo sobre dormir en el suelo.<br /><br />La siguiente parte fue realmente extraña. Condujimos hasta las puertas de acero y un chico las abrió para Toli. Pasamos lentamente por enormes camiones en la penumbra y supuse que esta era su base. Por un momento, me sentí fuera de mi zona de confort, pero pasó rápidamente. Aparcamos el coche y Marta y Toli salieron y me dejaron allí. Después de unos minutos, la puerta trasera se abrió. Esperaba escuchar: "Bienvenido, señor Bond, lo hemos estado esperando". Pero en cambio, tiraron en una carga de ropa de cama. Ahora entiendo. Esto era para Marta que iba a dormir en el piso, yo debía tener el lujo de su cama.<br /><br />Nuestra siguiente parada fue en un supermercado donde me dejaron en el coche. Volvieron con pescado y cerveza y vino. La tarde estaba mirando hacia arriba! Tuvimos una noche estupenda en el apartamento con la cena y luego Toli nos dejó para volver al trabajo, supongo. Toli no habla inglés, pero con Marta como intérprete y mucho lenguaje de señas y lo inevitable ... "Mesi ... Barça ... Tottenham ..." nos divertimos mucho.<br /><br />Entonces, así es como terminó. Marta en el suelo con la ropa de cama que habíamos intentado secar desesperadamente porque estaba bastante húmeda, y yo en su enorme cama. Ella tiene calefacción por suelo radiante, así que dijo que estaba muy cómoda, pero no le creí.<br /><br />El domingo fuimos a buscar mesas en Nizhyn. Fuimos a una tienda que era muy triste y una mesa que nos mostraron era muy inestable. El vendedor trató de tranquilizarnos inclinándose sobre sus brazos sobre la mesa para estabilizarlo. Luego fuimos a otra pequeña tienda sin éxito hasta que descubrí una habitación que nunca habían visto en visitas anteriores. Encontramos la mesa y las sillas perfectas, así que fui el héroe de la hora. Toli llamó a uno de sus amigos (White van man, decimos en inglés) y pronto instalamos la mesa y las sillas en la cocina. ¡Y enseguida los ponemos en uso con algún almuerzo!</span></span> </span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-07BfBw3gtPRoymc6HoFHdQiSvtTE11tLCRn_Aol3JZW1OXw2j_b2-GPjAV_RizLw3tqyZEF7VZw1kFunPWtaGkU_zrcFtDI4q_kMUjc7U7VqaRCDavhmqmWNo0wuYtp70M3da8jYxwgD/s1600/20181208_195859.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-07BfBw3gtPRoymc6HoFHdQiSvtTE11tLCRn_Aol3JZW1OXw2j_b2-GPjAV_RizLw3tqyZEF7VZw1kFunPWtaGkU_zrcFtDI4q_kMUjc7U7VqaRCDavhmqmWNo0wuYtp70M3da8jYxwgD/s320/20181208_195859.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marta likes black!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In the afternoon I went with Marta to get photocopies for her English class the next day. She teaches English in State and private schools. And then at 7pm I took the train back to Kyiv. I left my suitcase with her because my plan was to go to Dubai with cabin baggage only and come back again to see her a second time. This time, hopefully with a sofa-bed for me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span class="tlid-translation translation"><span class="" title="">Por la tarde fui con Marta para obtener fotocopias para su clase de inglés al día siguiente.</span> <span class="" title="">Ella enseña inglés en escuelas estatales y privadas.</span> <span class="" title="">Y luego, a las 7 de la tarde, tomé el tren de regreso a Kiev.</span> <span class="" title="">Dejé mi maleta con ella porque mi plan era ir solo a Dubai con el equipaje de la cabina y volver para verla por segunda vez.</span> <span class="" title="">Esta vez, ojalá con un sofá cama para mí!</span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My next post is about Dubai!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<br />
<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-711693294737802832018-12-26T12:13:00.001+01:002018-12-27T18:03:34.440+01:00A new adventure!<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It is now a distant memory, when my friend from Ukraine, Marta came here in July and she may come back next year. For sure, the door is always open. So I thought that I would like to see her and Marina some time before next summer and rather impetuously, about a couple of months ago I booked flights for a whole month in Kyiv from 7th December when we have what is called "un puente" (two holidays combined into one / a bridge) until just after Orthodox Christmas in Ukraine on 7th January. My plan was to rent an apartment, go to one or two Meetup groups and visit Marta and Marina when they were free. Marta lives not far from Kyiv and Marina lives in Kharkiv which is one hour by air. But it was quite a long time to be away and I rather forgot what cold feels like. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A few weeks ago, I received an offer from Ukraine International Airways (UIA) for an upgrade to business class on my outward journey for €80. But previously I had paid extra for seat selection and a meal on my regular ticket and these were included in business class. So effectively I got an upgrade for about €60. That was a very good deal! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But that didn't solve my preoccupation about my time in Kyiv during December - Marta would be working. Solution, go to Dubai! Where it is warm enough to go swimming.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So that is what I decided to do. Dubai is 6 hours from Kyiv by UIA and the airfare was really cheap, I paid in UK Pounds and it was about £200 return including seat selection and a meal outbound. Ah, I remember now, I paid £50 of that with my Panorama Club air miles but that is still very cheap.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Usually I write my blog as I go along but I was always to busy enjoying myself to sit down at a computer and so I am writing this back home on <i>Boxing Day</i> as it is called in the UK, or <i>St Stephen's Day</i> in Spain. I decided to come back earlier than I had planned but in fact, I simply booked a return flight with the option to change it if I wanted to. Sure, I had to pay €100 fee to change it, plus the fare difference but it still worked out cheaper than if I had bought a fully flexible fare in the first place.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I will start with my arrival back in Spain on Monday (24th) because it is still fresh in my mind and it was quite eventful. I had spent the weekend with Marta in her new apartment in Nizhyn which is about 1h30 from Kyiv by train. I took the express train at 6pm and Marta waved me off at the platform. I shared my compartment with a Ukrainian guy who gave lessons in Ukrainian to a pupil in Spain on Skype, so we had an interesting conversation and in no time at all we were in Kyiv. There is a cool little train (photo) to the airport now but in fact I took the regular Sky Bus to the airport because the timing was better and it drops its passengers off at Departures on the top floor which is where the shuttle bus from Ligena Hotel picks up its passengers.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh36WTPsX1-WLJsHgNbHN2Rf1BHomlEZs8nKoQfqzWghOINKiwC_LYwbroPkXnG_NWm5_LSUWvqaIigpGCu-YXD3kn19manOhceaNQjGOftq5BaOEooA0v3Y52DRoK_DFjX6zj4_pv3nxJ/s1600/20181221_143207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh36WTPsX1-WLJsHgNbHN2Rf1BHomlEZs8nKoQfqzWghOINKiwC_LYwbroPkXnG_NWm5_LSUWvqaIigpGCu-YXD3kn19manOhceaNQjGOftq5BaOEooA0v3Y52DRoK_DFjX6zj4_pv3nxJ/s320/20181221_143207.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I've written about Ligena Hotel before. I always stay there before taking the 9.50am flight to Barcelona as it is so much more convenient than travelling from the centre of Kyiv in the morning rush hour. It is in the town of Boryspil and the transfer takes only 15 minutes, so in no time at all, I was in the restaurant with a large glass of beer. I texted Marta on Skype to say that I had arrived safely and ordered a meal.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I got up next morning at 6am (5am in Spain), had breakfast and took the shuttle bus back to the airport. UIA has a neat self-service check-in which explains why they insist on a printed boarding pass (or loaded on a phone). There are a number of terminals with a screen and the usual weighing platform. I put my suitcase on the machine... 20kg ... and it scanned my boarding pass (I still prefer paper to using a phone, it is simply more convenient and hotels are always happy to provide the service). The machine issued the bag tag which I attached, then I took my bag to the bag drop, which scanned the tag with "BCN" and off it went! The bag drop issued a receipt. So in fact, there was no need to present my passport, that happened at Security.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Kyiv Boryspil Airport </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">(KBP) </span>Security is excellent (as is Barcelona) with a large area for preparing the trays, taking off belt, watch, boots, etc. Then it is normal to take computers out of the bag, of course. I remember once travelling out of Bristol Airport and the Duty Free area was so large that it had stolen space from Security so preparing the trays for the scanners was a nightmare, in a very cramped space and a feeling of pressure as the security person issued instructions! But then Security doesn't earn money!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I was a little annoyed with the UIA website because, when choosing a seat and logged in as a Panorama Club member, I could see that 6F, for example, was free. But when I clicked on it, the website accepted it and then a second later showed an error. If I logged out, it showed it as occupied! So I chose 10A. Never choose 10A on a 737-800, there is no window, just beige plastic! I reported the bug in the website, it is very new so these things happen!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The flight was 3h30 with a pause for 25 minutes before takeoff to de-ice the wings. I would guess the temperature was hovering around zero with flurries of snow.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I arrived in Barcelona Airport, I was able to use the Passport Control for EU citizens but after March 30th, I will no longer be an EU citizen so I guess I will have to join the long queue for "All others". That is a little humiliating, coming back to my adopted country. I will try it anyway to see what happens. My passport has European Union printed on the cover and that won't change for 10 years. But my status certainly will change regardless of whether the UK leaves the EU with a deal or no deal. So there will be no preferential treatment for me after March unless I get myself a Spanish passport which is something I am considering. But, in theory, I cannot have dual citizenship. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My main preoccupation is over my free health care because that will only continue if there is a deal. But my doctor is so nice, she would probably see me "on the quiet" anyway and I wouldn't want the health service to spend vast sums of money extending my life by a year of two anyway in the event of something serious coming along. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">After Passport Control, I picked up my suitcase from the Carousel and walked out to the shuttle bus which runs between T1 and T2 where I catch the train to Barcelona Sants. I had already booked a seat on the AVE to Girona at 3.40pm so I had plenty of time. But I reckoned I could just catch the next train, so I walked briskly across the bridge to the station. There were many people attempting to understand the ticket machines on account of there being a long queue at the ticket office. The first one I tried, the touch screen didn't work. I tried another, it didn't seem much better. Then two women next to me asked for advice. I said, "Go to Barcelona Sants, then you can take the Metro, do what you like". She said, "But we are here for 3 days". I gave up, went back to my ticket machine, inserted what I thought was my Spanish debit card, but in fact it was my Barclays debit card, both are now the same shade of blue. I entered the wrong PIN twice before realising my mistake by which time the train was departing. So I had to wait 30 minutes for the next train. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was only yesterday, Christmas morning that I received an unexpected present. On inserting my Barclays debit card into the little card-reader that the bank provides, I saw on the display, "PIN Blocked". I could not log in to my account.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I rang one or two numbers and finally got through to a very nice Indian girl in India with a huge delay on the sound. She took me through simple checks such as mother's maiden name, date of birth. Then she asked me a question about my account, "What direct debit payments did I make?" (or maybe she said "regular payments" as well). I answered, "None". I make a regular card payment to The Times, but I was thinking in terms of direct debit agreements with the actual account. The result alarmed me. The girl said that I had failed the validity check and one more failure would result in some kind of dramatic measure such as blocking the account altogether. I can't remember exactly what she said but obviously by now I was under suspicion. She said she was using some international standard of verification which sounded very impressive and a little scary.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I said, "Well, just send me a replacement card to my home address" (this card is useless now and can only be revived with a visit to a UK branch of Barclays). She replied that I needed to pass the verification process for her to do that. I got anxious and said that I would write to Barclays. No way was I going to risk a test failure because I had no idea what the consequences would be.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I raised the point that I only entered the wrong PIN twice and cards are blocked after 3 failed attempts. She said that maybe previously I entered the wrong PIN. So... what is the period during which the failures are added up? She couldn't tell me. A normal reset to zero would occur when the correct PIN was entered. This is like collecting points on a driving licence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So, now I am writing to Barclays in the UK, requesting a replacement card but I am worried that my failed test will count against me. I suspect that they have all kinds of draconian safeguards in place and that I may have to visit a UK branch.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Happy Christmas, Steve, from Barclays Bank where you have been a customer for 50 years". And will this relationship be even worse when the UK is no longer a member of the EU?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">By contrast, I can send a personal email to Jordi my bank manager here, any time I like. But I have no personal contact at Barclays despite having a reasonable large sum deposited there; money stranded in UKL hoping for a better exchange rate but in fear of a drop in the value of Sterling in the event of a no-deal Brexit.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Now, I am going to write about my trip to Ukraine and Dubai where I went up Burj Khalifa.. a very tall building indeed!</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJ4rELl_M_yr6XqYqiSKUNjU9-ALwGoXh8obntvJsmt-SJspBYRnRKh4raooKo_xhFGF8J5ddMZtzoCdy297LgGsSicSYo71FFX0eultd4Z5OABKEkshkKyu7KWLhJK1nW1RW5CMZlWqb/s1600/P1000062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1001" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJ4rELl_M_yr6XqYqiSKUNjU9-ALwGoXh8obntvJsmt-SJspBYRnRKh4raooKo_xhFGF8J5ddMZtzoCdy297LgGsSicSYo71FFX0eultd4Z5OABKEkshkKyu7KWLhJK1nW1RW5CMZlWqb/s320/P1000062.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-3891014621344637712018-09-23T18:14:00.001+02:002018-12-26T20:19:47.557+01:00Where are our memories stored?<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On
spirituality, I want to write about where I have arrived in my
beliefs! For many years I accepted (or maybe not) conventional Christian
teaching. But little by little, I can see that the secular world can
provide many of the answers that I seek. Healing is something that I
have attempted to do during many years after first meeting Matthew
Manning. And it exists in the secular world as well as in the religious
context.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But
then my thoughts have moved on further. I see the house-martins
swooping and gliding around their nests here during the summer and I
think to myself, "These are just atoms?" because everything is
ultimately made up of atoms. There has to more to it than that. And then
another puzzle that I have had in my head for many years. Memory. Is
that all retained inside the skull rather like a large computer store?
Even taking into account the billions of neurones in the brain, I
still can't see how memories together with their associated feelings are simply cells
switching on and off. So I have come to the conclusion that the more
that we discover in physics, the less we understand. For some reason I
used to enjoy taking TV sets apart when I was young as if to discover
the magic of how they worked. And of course, there was no more point in doing that than taking a house-martin apart! And the
sound and pictures came from somewhere else. I see the brain as a kind of communicating device using that analogy of a TV.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I
tend to believe that memories are physically accessed somewhere outside the head.
Maybe not all memories. Of course I don't know. But there has to be some kind of communication going on that we don't yet
know about. I just cannot see how I can re-experience an event in the
past from the state of neurones in my head. It is too pat. Attempts to
locate where memories are stored in the brain end up in frustration.
The pianist John Lill used to describe how he felt that Beethoven was
sitting on the piano stool next to him. Maybe he was. I am currently reading <i>Science Set Free</i> by Rupert Sheldrake who discusses these ideas, he uses the term, "morphic resonance". There is so much that we
don't know. Each generation says things like, "Flying machines are
impossible," and yet we look back with a wry smile. Maybe in 20 or 30
years, we will look back and say, "...and we imagined that memory was
all inside the head". </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There
is a great deal of evidence to support these theories and in any case,
are we really saying that we know everything now about physics? Or that
the theory of everything is just round the corner? Turn the corner and
there is another corner!</span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I believe there is an existence beyond this
physical life but I have not come to that conclusion through religious faith; my logic tells me
so, from my own experience and from what I read from well validated sources. For that reason I have no difficulty in believing in the Resurrection and Jesus returning to visit his disciples on the Road to Emmaus. I believe in
miracles except that I don't like the word because it implies something
special, sufficient for one to be canonised in the Roman Catholic Church. Miracles happen every day. We all
have the ability to heal to a greater or lesser extent but with the power of God which I imagine as all around us. Jesus taught his disciples to heal, and that includes us too! I believe that Jesus taught that we are all divine, God in Us. He was sent from God but not in a literal sense, I believe he was human, but of course an exceptional human.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">For many years science and religion have seemed totally imcompatible, opposites, as if science with its incremental knowledge is somehow chipping away at religious belief. But this has not happened. For each step in knowledge in physics both very big and very small, it only seems to demonstrate (to me at least) that there is something totally beyond our ability to understand or even describe. Call it God if you like. My path is as a Christian but there are many religions all on basically the same track, each with its own term for God. I will end.... I feel, God all around, not "up there", in some kind of human form. Now that I <i>do</i> find difficult to believe!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wrote more about this in my blog, "Stories from my Life".....</span><br />
<a href="https://stevebrown-life.blogspot.com/2018/09/religion.html"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">https://stevebrown-life.blogspot.com/2018/09/religion.html</span></a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-7256001223181381042018-09-22T13:11:00.001+02:002018-10-14T14:15:59.970+02:00People-watching (updated 4th October with photos.)<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">During the past two days, I have been enjoying the late summer sun in Llançà which is a 50 minute train journey from here towards the French border. It costs me €6 return.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The temperature has been close to 30c the past few days but I think next week it will get a little cooler. I am writing this on a Saturday morning and it is very warm outside. The sea was a wonderful temperature, not really cold at all. I love the thick syrupy feeling of the sea in these small bays, maybe the salt concentration is higher than in open stretches of the sea. The bay is partially enclosed, on one side by the marina, so swimming is very safe and the water was like a mill pond. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbX6vi6QuDotrUtSCJzROeBf3vP0gq9P6Ogt1ZHlno1Vu3USvBRR_ga4UgNZeDmUqxkCM66SWYaBVGlF0xHIGvu7cZS0N38Sh805O3S7MTsAcZaAXNhtldaUQGaiV2hctnhcWDNZEkRFEG/s1600/llanca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="585" data-original-width="1000" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbX6vi6QuDotrUtSCJzROeBf3vP0gq9P6Ogt1ZHlno1Vu3USvBRR_ga4UgNZeDmUqxkCM66SWYaBVGlF0xHIGvu7cZS0N38Sh805O3S7MTsAcZaAXNhtldaUQGaiV2hctnhcWDNZEkRFEG/s320/llanca.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long shadows at 5pm. But look at the colour of the sky!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I added this on Sunday 23rd. I hope it makes you smile!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br />On the way back from Llançà today, the carriage was almost empty so I sat back and relaxed, kicked off my shoes and put my feet on either side of the seat in front of me and listened to Vivaldi on my Fiio music player. A middle-aged Spanish guy across the other side of the carriage wagged his finger at me and reprimanded me for putting my feet on the seat, which I thought was quite ridiculous, like I was a teenager. I waved my bare foot at him and said (this was all in Spanish), "no shoes". He said that it was still not allowed. At which point I told him I was going back to my music and I put my headphones back on. For the rest of the journey and when I got off, I totally avoided any eye-contact. In English, I would have said, "Get a life." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He was with, I guess, was his wife and a small dog which sat on a third seat on a rug. I thought maybe to ask him if his dog had a ticket! In these situations it is best just not to get involved in an argument. Maybe he thought I was a tourist and therefore second-class, because I had a large back-pack with me (I had my watercolour paints with me). So I hope when I got off at Celrà he may have realised that I was a local, not to be treated like some scruffy kid. I wasn't really annoyed because it was so funny. At 75 years of age, to be told to take my feet off a seat in a train!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have to confess that actually it did upset me.... afterwards. But I am still glad that I didn't get involved. He <i>assessed</i> me, not for what I did but for who he thought I was. He saw my back-pack, my girly shoes, my long hair. Maybe he should be more concerned about the kids who paint the sides of these new carriages with graffiti during the night, shooting out security cameras to avoid being caught. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Today, Sunday, the train left Llançà at 4.30pm but during the week I usually catch a train back at 5.40pm which gets me to Celrà in perfect time for a beer on the terrace of my local bar. And it is from there that I observe life going by. We have a mixture of nationalities, thee are quite a few Romanians and Moroccans in addition to the Spanish both from here (Catalan) and from other parts of Spain. There is one French girl, my friend Christèle but I am the only English guy in the village. There is an English woman married to a Catalan but she lives up at the other end of the village so I rarely see her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Many children, some of them little more than toddlers, live on the opposite side of the road to the bar and I am terrified at the way they run across the road without looking. Most of the cars are slowing down towards a junction but some are not so slow. I remonstrated with a couple of guys who let their little boy run free. I would guess he was maybe 4 years old. It was all very friendly but I got the impression that they didn't worry too much. Maybe there was another boy as a back-up. At one point a baby was about to toddle across the road because the young girl who had been put in charge of her by the mother was distracted.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I spoke to the local council about it but there was a shrug of the shoulders and the response was that it is up to the parents. I didn't reply that many parents seem to have no sense at all. I thought stopping through-traffic might help as there are alternative routes out to the main road.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Some of the kids are really noisy. And adults! There is one woman, about 50 I guess, who actively incites her two grand-children, "Attaboy... yeah.. yeah...," she screams waving her arms and slapping them against her thighs. They respond by running up and down the path screaming in delight.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A couple of days ago, a young girl, I guess about 10, called out to her father who was about 8 or 10m away. "Papa!" He didn't respond but I'm sure he heard. <b>"PAPA!" </b>This time, he responded. I can tell you how I would have responded!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I feel sorry for the people who live directly over the bar, which is by far the most popular (and hence, busy) in Celrà. If it is rented then they must have known what to expect but if the flat was purchased, then they would not have known what was going to be below them. A commercial unit for sure but a bar?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Some parents lavish expensive gifts on their children. Recently I have seen two little boys, no more than 3 years old driving electric toy cars accompanied by their fathers. One even had music blaring out, lights flashing. The motors on these things make a loud grinding noise, I suppose it is the gears, I don't know. But one little boy in a toy Range-Rover decided to change direction. He did an immaculate 3-point turn! It was so very funny. Some adults can't do that too well and here was a boy only having learnt to walk recently doing it. I thought it was funny that the car had a reverse gear. Oh and by the way, little girls invariably have pink bicycles! So much for removing gender stereotyping! It doesn't happen here!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It is a fact, noise can annoy but for a while one doesn't notice it. Yesterday in Llançà I was on the terrace of a bar overlooking the sea and a woman behind me was chatting in Spanish to a friend on another table. The distance between their tables was greater than the distance she was behind me. I couldn't understand why I wasn't feeling more relaxed. Then I knew why. The woman behind me had quite a penetrating voice but for a while I tolerated it. And then suddenly it penetrated my consciousness and I quickly moved away. I guess I could have invited sarcastically the other woman to come and join her friend. Don't worry, I didn't seriously consider it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On the subject of noise, I just attempted to watch <i>La La Land</i> on Netflix. I hate most movies because generally they are not exactly subtle, in sound, with rapid shock cuts in picture. Anything to keep the audience occupied. The sound guys seem to design the sound for an audience in a cinema. In other words, very loud. If I try to set the volume so that I can hear the dialogue, the effects and music are shockingly loud. I guess that is the intention. And in many cases, the actors mutter their words anyway so I need subtitles. This is English! My mother tongue. It is just crazy. As many of my friends know, I was trained as a sound engineer by the BBC. Here, I feel as though I have landed on another planet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In Catalunya we are in protest season. The national day, the Diada, on 11st Spetember; the futile* declaration of independence on 1st October last year... oh there are one or two more. At least Quim Torra who is the current president seems to accept that an independent Catalunya would be outside the EU because he talks about the Canadian deal and he talks about Brexit. He really wants to go down that path?? I have just been reading about Teresa May's humiliation in Salzburg on Thursday. She was roundly mocked by The Times, especially a ridiculous chain around her neck. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">*I hope I don't annoy my <span style="background-color: white;"><i>independista</i></span> friends by calling 1st October, "futile" but my feeling is if you are going to declare independence, then do it. That is the whole point. If you are not free to do it then it is not independence. They required the cooperation of Madrid in order to carry it out and that would never have been forthcoming. So it was like living a dream, the pictures on TV3 in the Parliament, lots of clapping, back-slapping. Now they are in jail, not that I am totally happy about that either. I remember many years ago Rhodesia declaring UDI (unilateral declaration of independence). They just did it and said to Great Britain more or less, "What are you going to do about it?" But Catalunya is not in a position to do that with Madrid. Imagine it! So a declaration of independence would only be achieved with the agreement of Madrid. Carles Puigdemont was pragmatic about that and talked about independence in 10 or 20 years. But the CUP wants it now, come hell or high water.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have been reading two books on how to write a novel and I am greatly dispirited. One talks in terms of 3 years work with many rejections by editors. One is particularly off-putting. But I guess as authors they don't want too much competition! I am only joking! I am sure it is naïve to imagine that there is a short-cut to fame and fortune as a writer. Sure, I can write a novel but there is no point unless I actually sell it! A couple of days ago, I started again. </span><br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:HyphenationZone>21</w:HyphenationZone>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>ES</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
<w:UseFELayout/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0cm;
mso-para-margin-right:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0cm;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ralph was born in a lift
and one supposes it was for that reason he was obsessed
by lifts all his life. And they were the death of him too....</span></span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">I think I will not read any more of these books with their rules and formats. I will just write a story and publish it on my website. I have written about 12k words so far. Maybe, because it will be online, I can offer links or alternative endings. I am aware of the saying, "You have to know the rules in order to break them." So I am breaking the rules without knowing them, I am breaking the rule about rules. One book talks about the need for a classification for the book so that the bookshop knows where to put it on the shelves. Mine will be black-humour-fantasy. Err, now where to put that??</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>Sacrilege</b> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In Spain, basketball is very popular as it is in many parts of the world. So it is sacrilegious to say this. But I find it slightly ridiculous when as is very common, the score after an hour is something like, 102-105. I know it is very exciting to see these fit young guys tearing up to one end of the court to score a basket and then the other team does the same at the other end. And the crowd goes wild, the PA announcer shouts the score, there is music. But it all seems pointless to me when either team could have won. A lottery. And the team that won goes crazy and the losing team is dejected. But in my view, it is a tie. They should both be declared winners. Or better still, toss a coin and save all the trouble. But I am a terrible spoil-sport, it is very exciting to watch. And sometimes there is actually a significant gap between the scores. But those results where the difference is simply one basket keep on coming. Another few seconds and the losing team would have raced up to the other end, and the result would have changed. Only this morning on the news, a women's game in Girona ended 62-63. The winning team was euphoric and the losing team, really sad. "Hey, don't worry," I would have said, "They are no better than you. Another 20 seconds and you would have won. Just think about the entertainment you have given". </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A couple of weeks ago, I went to a picnic in Tordera which is an annual event organised by John and Eleanor who are friends at the local Anglican Church. I don't go to the services now but I still have friends there and they were kind enough to invite me!<br /> Here is a link. <a href="http://www.anglicancb.org/" target="_blank">http://www.anglicancb.org </a></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlM7NuzQvKOGOkhenJvycRMwNlGOGfBzYJ-7BOoqVwRPXrIQYq-spAjWoHjGYEmZN3liQ3rY8dBsuXNTSNrEzVhkN-ZTpsxRsY7J90HkvkgsvI-slm3G0F3Mt-cVj6kja-09ebNyi5I7jh/s1600/picnic-6523_1_orig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="733" data-original-width="1100" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlM7NuzQvKOGOkhenJvycRMwNlGOGfBzYJ-7BOoqVwRPXrIQYq-spAjWoHjGYEmZN3liQ3rY8dBsuXNTSNrEzVhkN-ZTpsxRsY7J90HkvkgsvI-slm3G0F3Mt-cVj6kja-09ebNyi5I7jh/s320/picnic-6523_1_orig.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photos: The Anglican Church in the Costa Brava</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxjhRHwsp52ToL2DUhH-SQNzjfP7tbe7R96gGM5oazhoqT8KsUmdcg1OHL0-CfwiSn5WbKHme1M2C84LRoiGwgSyKTG5_RD4vG8f0XP3YAo1XDMg891v73cFrJcIqEgAEcLjT_2dQRcSL/s1600/picnic-6520_1_orig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="733" data-original-width="1100" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxjhRHwsp52ToL2DUhH-SQNzjfP7tbe7R96gGM5oazhoqT8KsUmdcg1OHL0-CfwiSn5WbKHme1M2C84LRoiGwgSyKTG5_RD4vG8f0XP3YAo1XDMg891v73cFrJcIqEgAEcLjT_2dQRcSL/s320/picnic-6520_1_orig.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The girl I was talking to was Mexican. Another friend was talking to her in Spanish when I arrived so I continued in Spanish when he left. I hope I didn't insult her because I would guess her English was fine. Haha, I never found out!
</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /><b><br /></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>To Ukraine.... again! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I just booked an air ticket to Ukraine for one month from December 7th to include both "my" Christmas and Orthodox Christmas on 7th January. And of course, the New Year. I am renting a flat in Kyiv and my friends can come and see me or I can visit them. Ukraine International Airways has a new website but I didn't realise how new it was till I tried to log into my air miles account (to ensure that it gets credited with air miles for this journey). It rejected my club number. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"User not found," it reported. </span>So I wrote an email to the airline saying that I thought there was an error on their website. And there followed a number of futile emails where they patiently told me how to log in. I sent screen-shots to no avail. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Finally... today I received a response apologising for the errors in the website, they are working on it. Now, I can accept that software isn't always 100% correct first time around but what made me stressed was their smokescreen for over 24 hours. It would have been so simple for all of us if they had said.... "we are having problem with the website, please book normally and we will credit your air miles." Or even to put it on the website.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I did consider going with Ryanair because in October they start to fly between Barcelona and Kyiv but their departure during the week is at 7.30am which is too early for me (UIA from Barcelona is at 13.30). Anyway I feel a kind of loyalty to UIA, they are always very responsive by email, and there is not much difference in the prices for the month I am away. They both use <span style="background-color: white;">the</span> same plane (737-800) on that route, it is possible the legroom is less in Ryanair but I am too lazy to check it out! The UIA planes are always very comfortable.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And, a bonus! The next day by chance I received an offer by email for an upgrade to business class for flights up to 9th December, $99. But I was spending €22 on seat selection and a meal which of course are included in business class. UIA kindly refunded it (maybe they were more generous on account of the website problems). So my upgrade cost me effectively €60. Business class is great, just 3 rows with 2 seats either side! I have never travelled to Kyiv in business class but of course I have walked through the cabin. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">People sometimes use the phrase, "I always turn left" (when entering the plane), meaning of course, first class. With a 737, you will be flying the plane! I have often travelled business class, not only when I was on business in the UK but also in my life in Spain. I have no one else to spend the money on, so I indulge myself with a bed in Emirates or Avianca.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-443605749413260674.post-72418638609299664052018-09-18T18:41:00.003+02:002018-09-24T20:06:39.792+02:00My life story!<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The title of this post sounds very grand! I have just published a second blog on this platform which describes many events during my life, from birth and life as a child almost to the present day (at which point, this blog took over). I have had much material and photos on my computer for a long time, so this week, I went back and edited it and put it online. It is formatted in the reverse order to a normal blog with the most recent event appearing last, so it appears more like a book.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://stevebrown-life.blogspot.com/">http://stevebrown-life.blogspot.com</a> </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinh0PG8I854KWz-Sru9Hrzg_SHNjGDlxALNXltHcoMOaJrsN5WLFAur3XL61f_sWuuWx-fnhzUK9RF0qXckGtlRSaDIfkObIzuNZQcy9hhYWs9qRq_WF07Oo-r8gCbxi64SHjJjPr-fMt_/s1600/more003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1184" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinh0PG8I854KWz-Sru9Hrzg_SHNjGDlxALNXltHcoMOaJrsN5WLFAur3XL61f_sWuuWx-fnhzUK9RF0qXckGtlRSaDIfkObIzuNZQcy9hhYWs9qRq_WF07Oo-r8gCbxi64SHjJjPr-fMt_/s320/more003.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my hair is longer now</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> I have
written very little about my family because I feel that I would need
permissions and some are no longer alive, obviously parents and grand-parents. My older brother Philip died in 2012 so I have avoided writing about the "Gloucester Browns" as we used to call them in the family. I have also missed out several periods in my life, mainly in my working life. I really ought to add a post about <i>Surrey Duplicating</i> in Weybridge. I took on a print shop with awful results. Little old ladies would come into the shop for a photocopy and hear me swearing, hands covered in ink in the workshop behind. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>Amazed</b> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I look back at myself in the UK in the 1980s and 1990s, I cannot believe it is the same person. Some of the things I created in electronics leave me baffled as to how I did it. It is as if my brain was completely different from the brain I have now. Or should I say, "mind". The physical brain is the same and for sure I am not so bright now on account of being 75 but I am still amazed. Totally different. When I look at those circuit boards (and I still have some of my software notes, lots of intricate drawings showing bits of data, because I was working right down at machine level) I just don't know how I did it. And some of the crazy things I did, risks I took. I feel like a totally different person now, with different sensations of the world about me. Not better... different. I have plenty of material for my novel. Even the truth is almost stranger than fiction.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Maybe I will add more later or maybe I will incorporate them into my novel. So this is really just about me! It is full of disasters so, if bad news sells newspapers, then maybe disasters will send my blog viral and I can earn lots of money from Google advertising.</span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Who is going to read my autobiography? Maybe a few friends but that won't make me rich and I want to make money writing. So I will weave parts of my life story into my novel. But I can change anything I like. So I can write about people and events which I can't write about in the autobiography because I can change names and circumstances so there will be no link to the actual people or events.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I know this is not a new idea, to turn a life story into a novel. Authors take material from real life, observing people around them. I have been reading several book on writing and one theme keeps on coming back, that is the importance of building the characters. I thought this was a great idea! To make the personalities so strong that they write the book for me. I will be in the book under a different name and the narrative is in the third person. I will not be the person you know, I can invent what I like. My other main character is a celebrity classical pianist, Quentin Ultramort, who we meet in the first chapter annoying my father with his extrovert manner in a concert. But my father in the book is nothing like my real father.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Although I follow Quentin in his career as one of his fans, we actually meet in person in France and devise a theme park based on a computer, the name of the book is Logic Park. We both attend a local church for expats and this is a rich source of characters. Another character in the book is a guy obsessed with lifts, elevators in the USA. He comes into the plot when he is employed to build elevators into a deep valley where the park is to be built. People die! This is black humour.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I study law as well as logic design (which was part of my real work) and I have to defend Quentin in court.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So far I have written about 12,000 words and 100k is my target. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I had another idea about the book and that was to publish it as a website with hyperlinks all over the place. I could add illustrations, even offering the reader an alternative ending depending on what they had chosen earlier. I have to think of something different, there are thousands of books out there and thousands of frustrated authors who can't even get their 5th or 6th book accepted by a publisher. What hope for me? Well, I am a naïve optimist.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And maybe writing the book will take my mind off the awful political situation here and also in the UK as they agonise over what to agree with the EU over Brexit! It is chaos. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16526262767321854424noreply@blogger.com0