The Lighthouse

With one karaoke performance under my belt, I felt no worries when at 8.30 in the morning I was asked to sing to a group of 4 year olds. The only problem this time was I didn't know the song words or tune. I was reassured that it was easy. "It's the same tune as 5 Little Monkeys". Shame I also didn't know that one either. Oh well, I managed to sing the song and got told I had a good voice. Not bad but I didn't think Simon Cowell would be looking for someone who could sing "5 current buns in a baker's shop, round and fat with sugar on the top..."I was more impressed with my actions personally!

After a quick change at home I set off with my flatmate to board a ferry to Tenerife. It was beautiful to see the island from another point of view and the weather was ideal for sightseeing. I do enjoy travelling by boat. There is something very relaxing and almost majestic about it. The boat took about 3 hours and once arrived we set off on the hour long drive to the south of the island. Here we checked into our last minute bargain 4* apartment. Brill, now another quick change to meet up with my flatmates friends from back home for a very tourist night out.

We caught a tax to tourist central and got accosted every 2 metres by bar touts. In only 15 metres we had travelled all around the UK and the accents seemed to continue into every bar we went. The drinks were cheap and so was the entertainment. A girl dancing in a cage who really shouldn't have been. What disgusted the girls more than her less than impressive figure or gyrational moves was the fact that her bra and pants didn't match! We gorged ourselves on a McDonalds and wrote the night off as a trial run.

Next day we decided to climb Spain's highest mountain. My little hire car did well considering the roads it had to scale and with a full load of 5 people. WE reached as far as we could go by car and then caught the Cable car to the summit: 3,718 metres above sea level. We also found ourselves above cloud level which whilst might be good for getting a tan is less than warm. The views however, were spectacular and all agreed it was very Mary Poppins to be sat on top of the clouds. You can see the remains of the huge volcanic craters and the rocks even at the summit are still warm to the touch. After descending pretty rapidly, time to warm up with some nice Canarian grub!

Back to the south for a Canarian night out! Oh no, not again! WE all got ready and went for a curry. (Okay I know that's not typical Canarian) The lady who ran the restaurant was either extremely happy to have customers or had had one too many before we got there. She was lovely though and gave me free onion bajhis! YUM! We went across the road to what we thought was a Karaoke bar but unfortunately was a pub that seemed like the most run down social club you have ever set foot in, full of expats. Off to somewhere that is supposed to be good.

WOW! The club was called El Faro (The Lighthouse) and was a two floor club built right on the water's edge with its own manmade lighthouse. The top floor was open air and everything was chic, even the open air toilets. Strange to have a wee and see the stars at the same time though. Although I suppose you could say that for most camping trips too! The music was a mixture of chart music both Spanish and English and salsa! It was incredible! The drinks were expensive but the mojitos were worth it. As you can expect, the accents started to emerge after I'd had a few sambucas and mojitos. The line of the night was a group affair and had us in stitches for the rest of the night. "Curry: 15 Euros... Sambuca: 2 Euros... Mojito: 6 Euros... dancing to the Waka Waka with your mates: Priceless!" Needless to say we had an amazing time which ended at about 6.30 after drinking a final martini in a petrol station cafe surrounded by people eating breakfast and looking at the crazy foreigners. Finally at 7.00 I crashed out on the bed as soon as my head hit the pillow. Shame our check out time was 12 midday. Still, 4 hours sleep wasn't bad and thank god my body can handle alcohol and doesn't give me hangovers!

After a quick trip to the shops we set back off for home on the boat as the most gorgeous sunset was disappearing. What a weekend, but now where's my bed! School in the morning!

The Return to the Mountain

English activities at altitude was the concept. Two days in the mountains on an English retreat. Great.

Mince pies in hand (bit early I know!)we set off on the bus up to the mountains.... yes, this is on the same windy road that was only big enough for two cars to squeeze passed each other and we found ourselves on a 50 seater coach.

We got there in one piece to the camp site and after inspecting the cabins and finding them free from cockroaches or worse we set about

sorting out the food for the evening. Delicious food delivered by the catering company including one of my favorites: old clothes (ropa vieja) a stew of chickpeas and veg and yumminess. If this is traditionally poor persons' food then I'm quite happy to forgo some of my luxuries.

That night was also a first for me. I sang karaoke! After listening to the children murder various Lady Gaga and Rihanna songs it was only fair for the teachers to show them how it was done. So, microphone in hand and imaginary leather jacket on, I launched into a Summer Nights duet with one of the other teachers. Students off to bed time for the teachers to get very merry and sing and dance to karaoke songs and attempt to do moves only usually attempted by children in PE class. Not a pretty sight I would imagine for any flies on the walls of the hall.
Next day, Christmas activities. Yes, before my birthday and nothing more than a t-shirt needed still. The activities were great especially the Run Rudolph Run activity that involved the students applying Vaseline to their noses and sticking cellophane red circle on them. Even more amusing when the teachers attempted it!

Time for the walk/hike/treasure hunt across the mountainside. Each teacher in charge of around 5 kids on a walk that would never pass health and safety regs in the UK. I think walking along the side of a ravine and exploring abandoned mines would flag up on some database. But of course, with common sense and a bit of singing, no one got hurt or lost. Well, one group did take the wrong path for a while but found their way back! No harm done and a great opportunity to explore the mountains.

Thank goodness the weekend was approaching!

Going native

Well it's been a week in the new flat. I still don't have internet but things are settling down nicely and finally I can get into some sort of routine.

Last week I decided to start running again. I bought trainers back in the UK and have used then maybe 4 times since I bought them 9 months ago. Well they have been used and are now full of sand. Yes... I have been running along the beach. Unfortunately it wasn’t really Baywatch style, well the speed was Baywatch style. Slow motion. But I think it is best to take things easy to start and work into it. Still I managed to run... jog about 4km and it was 25º heat. Not bad for a first attempt. Here is where it gets strange yet again and I am faced with another test of my ability to turn the other cheek to the norms of another culture. As I was avoiding the waves I spotted an old gentleman standing at the top of the beach and he seemed to be calling for me to help him. Of course, never wanting to think anything but good of people, I went to see what was up and indeed, he was calling me. When I approached I could see that the gentleman had a walking stick and I wondered how agile one would have to be to traverse the beach with a walking stick. Anyway he was pointing at the ground as if he had dropped something. I exchanged pleasantries and continued to gaze at the sand for what he may have lost... maybe his marbles I suspected as all I could see was sand, pebbles and a bit of seaweed. He was insistent on pointing at this one pebble so I obliged him by picking it up and handing it over. Just as I had suspected all along... he had spotted the pebble from his standing position and thought it simply ideal for his pet turtle to sunbathe on. Needless to say I smiled politely and continued running, although he did seem extremely grateful and hobbled off with a contented smile.

Never offer to chop an onion for someone. This is now the first rule in Ross's handbook. Why? Well, on Saturday I managed to half cut an onion and with it my index finger. I applied pressure straight away. In hindsight it was unlikely to be straight away as my friends were soon to point out. A bit like my brother when tipping the dregs of a cup of coffee, my tiny droplet of blood managed to touch every conceivable surface, including, 3 walls, the ceiling, the floor, table, oven, hob, laptop cupboards etc. Pretty impressive I think! Anyway, no time to think about that had to get ready for a night out.

After insisting we weren't going to have a typical Canarian night out, we ended up leaving the flat at 12, leaving our friends' flat at 1 and got in at around 6.30 por la manana. All in all, a great night out though. There is one particular bar that had great mix of salsa and pop music and the best mojitos too.

Sunday, time to visit the hospital as even thought the alcohol may have subdued the aching of my finger, when I removed the plaster it was still bleeding! The only hospital I knew of was the main one in the city. We arrived to find a small town of a hospital complete with restaurants, hairdressers etc. After a little while lost we found A&E and went to the counter. The woman behind said that we were indeed in the right place and that it was completely suitable for her to be wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Anyway, off to triage. No-one waiting, how strange. I spot the nurse spinning on her chair in the treatment room and wonder if I was actually better off coming to hospital. Anyway, she calls my name (my middle name) after about 5 minutes and asks me what the problem is. I sit down at the normal looking desk scattered with papers and she says to take the plaster off. I warn her that it may still be bleeding but obviously the fact that I might drip blood all over the desk and whatever else might be within blood reaching distance seems not to trouble her in the slightest. At least she is wearing scrubs. She tells me I am in the wrong type of hospital and that this is only for major problems and that actually each neighbourhood has its own mini A&E at the Doctors' Surgery. Well... time to hold my hand over a sink so she can spray it with iodine and stick a bigger plaster on it.

Wait 15 mins to see a doctor and eventually she appears (early thirties, Dolce and Gabbana glasses and wearing an unbuttoned scrubs jacket as if it were straight of a Milanese catwalk. Still she is extremely pleasant and tells me it will be fine as long as I keep it clean and dry.

Job done!

Mixed emotions

It happened today. I moved out. Packed my solitary suitcase and a few other bags with meagrely accumulated odds and ends and moved out. It seemed to happen so quickly even though I didn’t actually leave until about 5 or 6 o’clock. It felt like I was saying goodbye at the airport, just about to board a plane that would take me more than day to reach my destination and not the 20 mins up the motorway by car.

With a little help from my “brother in-law” I packed up the car and set off. What happened next was something I have only ever experienced once before in my life. Whilst driving down the road I have come to know so well in the short month that I have been calling it home, I was overcome by emotion. Being a Brit abroad, I try to maintain the appearance of a stiff upper lip and in some way I suppose I did; driving alone in the car. I cried. I was quite cheerfully smiling and yet I actual tears were forming that I was unable to keep back. I knew it was not sadness even though I was sad to be leaving my adopted family nor was it joy, even though I was excited about the prospect of my own space. I think I cried out of sheer gratefulness : happy in the knowledge that someone had been so kind as to take me into their home and further sill that their family would accept me so readily as one of their own. Not meaning to take the sentiment away from the generosity of my new family but I was filled with a deep sense of pride that I must be the kind of person that someone is so willing to help too, not out of sympathy but of love.

My goodness gracious me! I have national stereotype to uphold. Enough sentimentality for now, I should be talking of more pressing matter like the weather. I seem to be the bearer of bad weather as there has been an unprecedented amount of rain recently which apparently as everyone tells me “Es culpa tuya”.

The flat is delightful; lots of space, modern and in a “Buena zona” according to the people I tell. Good for me and my snobbish ways! We moved in on Sunday and I have spent the last 5 days cleaning. Not that the flat was dirty but rather it was not as clean as I would have liked. I spent 3 hours sanitising the bathroom. I am now untraceable to the police as my fingerprints have been both scrubbed and bleached off and I have inhaled enough solvents and bleach fumes that could give even the most ardent glue sniffer a run for their money. Oh well, at least I can have a clean shower every morning.

After the bleach fest had finished and with it being Halloween, my new flatmates and some friends decided to go out to the cinema to watch a scary film (Los Ojos de Julia). I appeared to be wearing eau de toilette quite literally and had extremely white hands (If it were possible for them to get any paler). The film was supposed to be full of short sharp shocks and lingering suspense to build the tension but instead was rather dull and predictable. A shame for the director whose last film is one of my favourite Spanish films to date (El Orfanato).

A World of Contrasts

Last Friday I went to the city for a bit of the urban buzz that only a true city can give you. As I drove into the first street I was taken aback by the light. But I was struck by the bright lights of the city. It was a one of those times when the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and you get that warm, excited nervousness take over your body. I am as the Spanish say a “Capitalino” After buying a new corduroy shirt (not ideal for the hot weather I grant you) and some delightful cakes form the best artisan bakery I know in the city I headed back to my friends house for what would be my penultimate night with them.

The following day was an early rise (not great for a Saturday), when I say early it was about 9 o’clock. We were off to test out a walk as an activity for students. We met up with others involved in the project and headed off in two cars. I got the luxury of travelling in the back with enough space to enjoy the spectacular scenery that lay ahead

We travelled way up into the mountains on roads that cling to the side of the long solidified igneous rock. After a few hairpin bends, being faced with sheer vertical drops of hundreds of metres and some very close shaves with oncoming vehicles (including lorries and buses as it the only road to the towns and villages in the mountains) we arrived ready to take a leisurely walk. I had expected such high altitudes to have fairly cool temperature despite what I had been told. How wrong can a person be?! (Only mad dogs and all that!)

We set off on a downward slope so I was anticipating an upward climb later on. It was less of a walk and more of a hike but one which I thoroughly enjoyed. We climbed, sauntered and meandered whilst laughing and joking. I was surprised by just how enjoyable a hike up a steep mountain in the midday sun could be! We attempted to pick pomegranates from a tree growing on the mountainside. I say pick, we shook a lot of branches and threw stones at them as they were dangerously high for sensible adults to climb and reach (If only we were children without fear of heights or falling from them). Turns out they were not quite ripe anyway so better luck next time. I had a great conversation with one of the group about all sorts of things including films. I found out that we have quite a lot in common especially liking spicy food and being partial to a gin and tonic. After the strenuous activity it was time for light refreshment. At eh bottom of this part of the mountain we had a beer and sat in the sun. Next it was time for lunch so off to the coast to get some good seafood. Sardines, Galician octopus, tuna and a martini bianco later I set off for the city again. This time get the keys to my new flat!