Farewells - by Theo

So an era has come to an end. We're on the cusp of leaving Madrid; today most of our belongings shipped out and we'll follow, also by ship, on Wednesday. I've already finished work - Wednesday was my last day, which is to be the subject of this blog.

Working in a language school is a strange dynamic. You have colleagues but you don't really work with them; after all there's only ever one of you in a classroom. Sure, we swap lesson ideas and banter during the brief breaks between classes, but unless you're highly sociable (and I, as a new father, haven't been) you don't really get to know each other. In fact I know my colleagues who shared Spanish classes with me, both of whom were new this year, perhaps better than those who joined with me, two years ago.

Still this is not to say I won't miss them, or the boss and his wife, who were both hugely supportive to Kate and myself during Kate's pregnancy and Rosie's first few weeks. So I was more than happy to join them for raciones and drinks in Goya after work on Wednesday and then again in the Retiro for a picnic the following day - I thought I had stayed out reasonably late, heading home at midnight, only to find most of my (now former) colleagues had stayed out until 6am! I guess I never quite got the hang of that aspect of the Spanish lifestyle.

However, I think it's inevitable that when teaching English, or possibly any subject, it's with your students that a real bond forms, especially in the short-term. After all, if they stay the course you'll end up spending a considerable amount of time with them over the months, much of which will hopefully be by turns enjoyable, frustrating, amusing, challenging and sometimes outright hilarious. Such shared experience usually helps form bonds and ties, though not always: Of the two classes of intermediate teenagers I had this year, the group that were all new students to me in October turned out in full to say goodbye, while the group that included students I'd been teaching for 2 years was a total no-show. Not quite sure what that proves, but I'm sure it proves something.

So it was somewhat gratifying that my favourite group (now I've left I think I'm allowed to admit I had favourites), an adult proficiency class, pretty much all turned out on their last day (Tuesday), despite the fact that they'd already had the exam results back and most other classes weren't even half full. We had a fun time imagining which celebrities might make good English teachers ("David Beckham... well, he didn't speak English very well at the start of his career, but he does now, so he's clearly been through the learning experience") and then, joined by a former classmate who had already passed the Proficiency exam, we grabbed a table in the Plaza de Felipe II and spent a very enjoyable couple of hours setting the world to rights in both English and Spanish.

What a shame I forgot to take my camera to all three farewells.

Dia del Deporte III - by Theo

Well, our third Dia del Deporte was a great success. I was slightly apprehensive about the turn-out to begin with - Kate, Rosie and I arrived at 12pm to find my student Irene already there. Bearing a delicious homemade yoghurt cake, she had been decidedly un-Spanish and turned up at the time advertised. For about an hour I was worried that it was going to look like we had no friends, but then a steady stream of North Americans, Africans and Europeans swelled our numbers to 20 as we gathered around an ever-growing mountain of food.


The guests included Rosie's boyfriend Ollie and his mate Jack (whose parents, Helen and Steve happened to be visiting Stefan and Bianca, but that's by the by - we know it was really the kids who arranged it all.) The toddlers were on fine form, randomly wandering about the place and never seeming to mind which of our friend's mobiles they stole or whose water bottle they were drooling over. Actually it was great, as Rosie seemed to be delighted by all the people and more than happy to sit on somebody else's lap while Kate chatted and I called Ibrahima for the umpteenth time to try and give him directions.

We had a great spread. Jero had brought some homemade tortillas, Sophie and Jon a delicious pasta salad, Elena a carrot cake, Javier a huge empanada (a kind of fish pie), Bianca some Pimms and almost every other person brought cherries! The little ones ate happily and even got stuck into the booze....

After a brief break for digestion, the sports began. With there being so many of us, we had to have three heats for the egg & spoon race (during which, one egg became grass fertiliser) before the qualifiers lined up for the final.


Ibrahima, the youngster that he is, took the checkered flag in style, before he and his brother Aboubacar treated us to a rendition of the Senegalese national anthem at the medal presentation ceremony.

Following that, we had the three heats for the third-legged race, which fitted around the baby nap-time buggy relay (Kate and I took the gold) and the arrival of some of my colleagues bearing takeaway burgers. The third heat was composed solely of English teachers and nearly resulted in injury due to some questionable tactics.Luckily we had a physio on hand (Fermin) and everyone was fit to line up for the three-legged final.

As you can see it was a close run thing, but yet again the Senegalese contingent prevailed, this time older brother Aboubacar taking gold along with his partner Jon.

Time was getting on, so we gradually cleared up and said our goodbyes, making many promises to try to meet up again over the 18 days we have left in Spain, before winding our way back home with even more mixed feelings about leaving. For it's days like today that make Madrid a wonderful place to live.

The Mortal Enemies of Naptime by Kate

How many miles (kilometres, sorry - we are on the continent, after all) have Theo and I walked in the name of Rosie's precious daytime sleep? We've certainly got to know the roads around our barrio very well and have also pushed a snoozing Rosie across the very heart of Madrid, passing such landmarks as Sol, Plaza Mayor, the Ventas Bullring and the Retiro Park. As long as we're properly attired for the weather, don't need to empty our bladders and Rosie co-operates by actually nodding off reasonably quickly, then it's an enjoyable way to get a bit of fresh(ish) air and exercise.

But it's hardly what you would describe as a relaxing stroll. Nope. The savvy pushchair navigator has to be constantly alert to all the circling hazards that can kill a nap without a second thought. They are many and various and include:

1) Stopping the pushchair. Getting the timing right at pedestrian crossings is a tricky business and Theo and I have both been observed running full tilt to catch the green man, walking v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y to avoid stopping at the red, or doing figure-eights or back-and-forths on the braille pavements to keep that essential forward motion going at all times.

2) The changing weather. Manic re-positioning of the parasol to avoid sun rays hitting Rosie's reposing eyes; enveloping the buggy in the rain cover (or indeed removing it); hastily improvising wind-breaks with bits of string and bulldog clips... all of this without stopping (see point 1).


3) Sudden sharp noises. During the deeper part of her sleep cycle, Rosie can sleep through pretty much anything. But when she's moving from one cycle to the next, typically at the half-hour mark or thereabouts, any number of sonic interruptions can effectively assassinate the remaining nap. These include:
*dogs barking
*toddlers throwing tantrums
*vehicles tooting (junctions are dangerous - Spaniards tend to be very impatient with cars that don't move forward the instant the light turns green, or preferably, a second or two earlier)
*air-brakes (buses are the worst culprits)
*emergency sirens
*roadworks
*chatting Spaniards (they tend to talk VERY loudly)
*chatting Africans (they tend to talk EVEN MORE loudly)
*mopeds and motorbikes
*baby-loving passers-by ("Que cosita!!" They shout at our sleeping daughter, ignoring our pleading expressions as Rosie's eyelids start to flicker alarmingly)
*buskers (I'm a music lover, but I could cheerfully kick a hole through any accordion threatening my baby's sleep. It usually is an accordion.)

Any of the above can send us skedaddling down side-roads, sprinting across parks, executing 180 degree hand-brake turns with the buggy - or any means necessary to avoid Rosie being woken prematurely.

Which is why an hour and a half of successful sleep from Rosie while out and about tends to feel like a mission as we set out and imparts a glow of satisfaction when we return with the snooze quota fulfilled. But it's no wonder that after the initial stampede to use the loo, we buggy-navigators need to sink gratefully onto the sofa with a calming cup of tea. Those walks are almost always fraught with incident from the most innocent-seeming sources. Strolling has never felt so adventurous.

Dia del Deporte 2010

Our second annual Sports Day and picnic was today and while it didn't quite attract the crowds of last year's event, it was superb fun!

Another scorching day, with the temperature hovering around 34, found us lolling under shady trees in the beautiful Retiro. Rosie seemed very happy lying on her back checking out her surroundings, occasionally entertained by her father making strange faces at her.
Cesar turned up with a cool box, tunes, and the paper - perfect. Aboubacar and Ibrahima followed not long after with a football and snacks, with Jon and Ana joining us just as we were tucking into the salads and snacks - they'd brought bocadillos and disgusting sweets!
Ibrahima has a real soft spot for Rosie - his hermanita - and it appears she has one for him; she was totally comfortable being held by him and watching the scene.
I ran away with the first heat of the egg and spoon race - a steady hand and a steady pace saw me move through the field as the others went awry. In the second heat Cesar just pipped Ana to the line. However, for the second year running Aboubacar was our champion, winning a high-octane final in style.

Tennis and football followed, before everyone was whipped into playing a sort of Rounders/quick Cricket hybrid that was a lot of fun. Ibrahima top scored, but Ana turned out to have a demon throwing arm and took several smart catches.

We finally headed home at 5.30ish, just missing the rain as it came down - another tradition from last year's event!

Painting in Retiro

Sunday saw the annual speed painting festival in the Retiro Park. We popped along to enjoy the good weather, meet our artist friend Anne for a drink and check out the work in action.

Here are some of our favourites:
Naturally painting wasn't the only activity going on in the park - there was also a classical concert taking place, a water-borne demo, a vast array of hawkers and buskers, acrobats practising and dance troupes rehearsing.
Who needs festivals when Madrilenos lay on this kind of free entertainment every weekend?

May Day In Madrid By Kate

As a new parent, going out for a jaunt with the baby can be a tentative affair. On the one hand, you desperately want to show off your pride and joy to the (hopefully) admiring public and it's great to escape the confines of home, pleasant though they are. On the other, it can be a tad scary because of the impossibility of predicting how the offspring will respond to the outing. Last week I had to abort one journey to an English playgroup with Rosie when she decided she really wasn't happy and made no bones about expressing her displeasure in the loudest possible terms.

At the time I blamed it on the baby being overheated in the sling, or maybe she didn't like this particular one (different from the usual sling we use) or perhaps it was the type of carry she objected to. It wasn't hunger - a feed (rather uncomfortably executed on the Metro) only temporarily stemmed the flow of her objections and being taken out of the sling was also a fleeting panacea. On reflection I now believe it was simple tiredness. Observations have taught me that Rosie needs a lot of naps and if she hasn't had sufficient, she tends to throw a wobbly. Often she naps in the sling, but recently she's also needed the application of a pacifier to get her properly in the mood for sleep and that was the one piece of baby soothing armory I didn't have with me on that occasion.

This time Theo and I took no chances. Rosie was snoozing in the pram when we decided it was time to go so we left her in it, but packed a sling as well. In fact, Rosie snoozed off and on for the entire journey on a packed bus to the Retiro Park where we had arranged to meet a friend and do some book-crossing. We opted to get off a few stops short of the park when we realised one of the city's main streets was in the throes of a May Day demonstration. We contemplated joining it as a show of solidarity for the Spanish unemployed, then thought better of it. Maybe another day.

When we found our rendezvous in the park, Rosie remained happy in her pram while we laid out the books we were "releasing" into the unknown and perused the other offerings to see if there were any we fancied "capturing". Theo picked up a book of Spanish poetry and a Spanish translation of an HP Lovecraft story. Being less highbrow, I lassoed a crime thriller and an Inspector Morse. Typically, both had been released by my pal Florrie, so I could have just taken them directly from her, but where's the fun in that?!
After the book-crossing excitement, Rosie woke up so I put her in the sling where she seemed content to doze while we wandered around the gorgeous Retiro rose garden, a riot of hot pinks, reds and yellows as the dozens of flower varieties made the most of the Spring sunshine.

After we all (including Rosie) enjoyed an al fresco drink at one of the park's terrace cafes, Theo and I opted to draw the family outing to a close, said our goodbyes to Florrie and wended our way back home again. A simple trip, perhaps, but at this stage of early parenthood, it still feels like a bit of an achievement. Next weekend we're off to WOMAD in Caceres - wish us luck...

Family Outing - by Theo

Finally a reasonably warm and sunny spring weekend here in Madrid!

We took advantage and went on a little family outing to the Retiro on the bus that goes from just around the corner.

A lovely day for a stroll and an al fresco snack!

Ingredients for a classic Madrid weekend

1. Language practice with wine and food - invite Spanish and Venezualan friends home for traditional English cuisine (curry)

2. Visit the enormous Madrid book fair in Retiro park - tomes in dozens of languages, catering to tastes ranging from obscure Manga to far left Argentinian political polemic and pretty much everything else you can think of. Note to self - next time don't leave it until twenty minutes before closing time to try and browse the 357 stalls.

3. Drink coffee in Plaza Chueca - Chueca is Madrid's gay district and if a visitor couldn't work that out from the number of same-sex couples ambling hand-in-hand, the barrio's mixture of saunas and shoe shops would probably give it away. We sat on a bar terraza sipping our drinks watching local colour in the form of a young man who looked like he'd been kicked out of the house by his boyfriend that morning, hit the bottle in despair and passed out on a stone bench at the side of the plaza. As we watched, he crumpled gently onto the ground among his flowing scarves and other belongings and was covered with a coat by a solicitous passer-by. "He's been sleeping there since this morning," she told a table of lads who were also enjoying the spectacle.

4. Have a cana in La Latina. We avoided the temptation to go inside the dingy-looking but gloriously named Latina Turner and opted for another of the many funky bars in the area...

5... then ended up in La Alhambra in the Sevilla area, an authentically feeling Spanish bar, for another cana and some patatas con salsas.6. Watch the Madrid version of Critical Mass swarm around the glorieta beside Metro La Latina - as it was Saturday evening, it didn't cause much of a traffic gridlock, but there was a big chequered flag, some colourful wrestling costumes and a goodly number of cyclists shouting and blowing whistles. Five minutes of carnival, if nothing else.

7. Eat left over curry at home.

8. Get up early(ish) on Sunday morning and go to the Rastro to hunt for bargain sandals. There were plenty in evidence, but I was too fussy to actually buy any. A pleasant stroll, though and we enjoyed the didgeridoo player and the man creating an incredibly haunting tune using 24 glasses and his fingertips. We didn't buy the CD though.

9. Drink fresh orange juice and cafe con leche on the terraza of Taberna Tirso de Molina and buy flowers (in Theo's case) from the neighbouring stall to present to the wife. Aw!

10. More Spanish practice - meet friends fresh from the European vote for a few drinks outside a bar in Atocha. Olga's husband Fernando speaks no English, so it was another excellent opportunity to give our newly acquired language a decent airing. I found myself actually understanding a fair bit of what they said to me too - yes!!

11. Go home and eat more left over curry.

12. Finish the left over fruit crumble as well. Yum.

Ballet in the Park

It being another beautiful Saturday here in Madrid, we decided to go for a walk in the massive Parque de Buen Retiro, the former Royal Retreat that became public property in 1868. It's essentially an outdoor art gallery, recreation ground, picnic site, tourist trap and arboretum rolled into one.
We strolled about the walk ways around pools and ponds, admiring fountains and terrapins, the trees still largely bare, but there were a few flowers and sunbathers out. In one of the pavilions was a small contemporary art display - Espacio para un Universo Isla by Josiah McElheny - of hanging silver chandeliers representing galaxies strung out in space. Really rather beautiful.
Finally, after an ice cream each, we decided to settle by the boating lake to play backgammon (old habits die hard) where we caught a rather excellent and novel busking display. They love their street theatre here in Madrid, and we've seen some excellent hammer-piano, flamenco, magic, music shows, but ballet was a first for us. A lovely finish to the afternoon.