We start our TEFL course in Barcelona on Monday, but first we're going to spend a couple of nights in Madrid with our new friend Belen. However, assuming they let us, we suspect we'll be back at Pueblo Ingles in the not too distant future.
Friday, 31 October 2008
leaving La Alberca
We've had a fantastic and inspiring time on the Pueblo Ingles week at La Alberca, but it's nearly time to say goodbye. Tonight is the last night, so naturally we're having a big party - lots of drinking and dancing to a mix of Spanish and English pop music. It's been a fantastic week, we've met so many wonderful people, both English and Spanish speaking, and have had fantastic weather for the most part allowing us to appreciate the beautiful countryside.
We start our TEFL course in Barcelona on Monday, but first we're going to spend a couple of nights in Madrid with our new friend Belen. However, assuming they let us, we suspect we'll be back at Pueblo Ingles in the not too distant future.
We start our TEFL course in Barcelona on Monday, but first we're going to spend a couple of nights in Madrid with our new friend Belen. However, assuming they let us, we suspect we'll be back at Pueblo Ingles in the not too distant future.
Saturday, 25 October 2008
Speaking for our supper
Kate and I are currently staying in a beautiful 4star Hotel just outside the picturesque village of La Alberca, high in the Sierra del Gredo to the west of Madrid. We are sharing a two-bedroomed en suite cottage with a lovely Madrilena called Olga, who is here to improve her English.
We aren't paying for anything (except the odd beer from the bar). Instead we are, quite literally, talking for our supper. Along with a dozen other "Anglos" (in this case Americans, Canadians and English) we are here to talk to another dozen or so Spanish (and one Portuguese) people who want to improve their English. This is Pueblo Ingles.
This morning I've had hour-long one-to-one conversations with Olga, who is a very high powered business executive it seems, Jaime, a Basque speaking advertising executive working in Madrid, and Daniel, who works in telecommunications solutions. The telecommunications industry is well represented here. I'm one of the youngest, but it doesn't seem to matter. Everyone here is charming, friendly and interesting, and naturally Kate - with her welcoming smile and BBC-honed enunciation - is going down a storm.
It's now siesta time - that's actually on the schedule! - so I'm going to take advantage; we've got more activities scheduled tonight!
We aren't paying for anything (except the odd beer from the bar). Instead we are, quite literally, talking for our supper. Along with a dozen other "Anglos" (in this case Americans, Canadians and English) we are here to talk to another dozen or so Spanish (and one Portuguese) people who want to improve their English. This is Pueblo Ingles.
This morning I've had hour-long one-to-one conversations with Olga, who is a very high powered business executive it seems, Jaime, a Basque speaking advertising executive working in Madrid, and Daniel, who works in telecommunications solutions. The telecommunications industry is well represented here. I'm one of the youngest, but it doesn't seem to matter. Everyone here is charming, friendly and interesting, and naturally Kate - with her welcoming smile and BBC-honed enunciation - is going down a storm.
It's now siesta time - that's actually on the schedule! - so I'm going to take advantage; we've got more activities scheduled tonight!
Pena de Francia
As we were early for Pueblo Ingles we decided to go up the local mountain for the stunning views.
Thursday, 23 October 2008
Segovia
When we first arrived in Spain last May, Miguel told us we'd be daft to pass up the opportunity to visit Segovia. While we were sitting in the kitchen of his house near Bilbao he enthusiastically recommended places in Spain to visit and further whetted our appetites by showing us photos he'd taken during his own forays in his homeland. Miguel told us as impressive as the architecture and historic remains are in other parts of the world, Spain can almost always match or better them. Including, he said, cathedrals and Roman ruins.
For a modest-sized place, Segovia seems to be trying to justify Miguel's Spanish pride all on its own. Its importance has waxed and waned over the centuries, but in the course of its history, it's been equipped with an imposing gothic cathedral, a fairytale castle (Walt Disney based his iconic turrets on the Alcazar) and an almost intact Roman aqueduct. Not to mention the various monastery, church and old synagogue buildings, whose towers and spires add their elegance to the Segovia's cobbled streets, colonnades and half-timbered houses.
Of the various monuments, I think Theo and I liked the aqueduct best. A simple, yet epic design, you often come across it unexpectedly by turning a corner in a random street. Or you cross and re-cross beneath it as it stretches between roadways and buildings, until it reaches its zenith in a kind of soaring, arched splendour over the Plaza de Azoguejo. It is 800 metres long in total, is 30 metres at its highest point and was built without mortar or cement. It doesn't carry water any more, but it really is a sight to behold and as Theo and Miguel both observed, it easily rivals Italy's own remnants of the Roman age.
The Alcazar is very pretty - especially when set against a glorious sunset or perfect blue sky (we were lucky enough to catch it in both settings), but it lacks the authenticity of the aqueduct, especially when you realise it was entirely reconstructed in the 19th century in an even more stylised version of the original. It's not surprising old Walt was so keen to adopt it for Disneyland.
Other than its splendid sights, Segovia also endeared itself to us by being generally cheap. Or should that be good value for money? Giving up on finding an eatery that opened on Wednesday nights and served some vegetarian food, we opted to fill ourselves up with beer and tapas. Which we did for less than 7 euros the lot. Bargain!
For a modest-sized place, Segovia seems to be trying to justify Miguel's Spanish pride all on its own. Its importance has waxed and waned over the centuries, but in the course of its history, it's been equipped with an imposing gothic cathedral, a fairytale castle (Walt Disney based his iconic turrets on the Alcazar) and an almost intact Roman aqueduct. Not to mention the various monastery, church and old synagogue buildings, whose towers and spires add their elegance to the Segovia's cobbled streets, colonnades and half-timbered houses.
Of the various monuments, I think Theo and I liked the aqueduct best. A simple, yet epic design, you often come across it unexpectedly by turning a corner in a random street. Or you cross and re-cross beneath it as it stretches between roadways and buildings, until it reaches its zenith in a kind of soaring, arched splendour over the Plaza de Azoguejo. It is 800 metres long in total, is 30 metres at its highest point and was built without mortar or cement. It doesn't carry water any more, but it really is a sight to behold and as Theo and Miguel both observed, it easily rivals Italy's own remnants of the Roman age.
The Alcazar is very pretty - especially when set against a glorious sunset or perfect blue sky (we were lucky enough to catch it in both settings), but it lacks the authenticity of the aqueduct, especially when you realise it was entirely reconstructed in the 19th century in an even more stylised version of the original. It's not surprising old Walt was so keen to adopt it for Disneyland.Other than its splendid sights, Segovia also endeared itself to us by being generally cheap. Or should that be good value for money? Giving up on finding an eatery that opened on Wednesday nights and served some vegetarian food, we opted to fill ourselves up with beer and tapas. Which we did for less than 7 euros the lot. Bargain!
Wednesday, 22 October 2008
Andorra
Andorra, the 21st and last country that we've visited on our 6 month long tour around Europe, suffers somewhat by comparison with where we've been before. This tiny country (which calls itself a Principality even though it is now a democratic republic and was formerly an episcopality) is sandwiched quite neatly between France and Spain. So neatly in fact that you don't notice any disruption to the outline of either country, which I'm sure is one of the reasons why it still exists. It's also the only country where Catalan is the official language.
Having been to all the other European micro-states, it seemed silly not to satisfy our curiosity and pass through Andorra on our way to La Alberca, especially as, of all the micro-states, Andorra is the most curious. Squashed between two powerful neighbours, both with rival claims to sovereignty - France through the Count of Foix and Spain through the Bishop of La Seu d'Urgell - you would have thought it would have ended up being partitioned like Navarre, another Pyrranean state. Instead the joint sovereignty arrangement lasted all the way from 1278 right through to a referendum that lead to formal independence in 1993. I could only come up with Anglo-Eygptian Sudan when trying to think of other joint-sovereignty arrangements, but that didn't last a century and can hardly compete.
I'm sure Andorra was quite pretty once, and indeed the roads into the country from both France and Spain offer spectacular views as their hairpin their way up the Pyrenees through woods turning red and gold (on the French side; on the Spanish side they were still a lush green). Once inside the country, however, the views are marred by tangles of cable cars and urban sprawl.
Andorra is basically a series of steep river valleys in the middle of which sits the capital, Andorra la Vella, and ski slopes. The bland apartment blocks and bargain-stuffed shops (Andorra has a sales tax of only 4%) hem in the road, which only increases the claustrophobic feeling the steep valley walls create. A European cul-de-sac until the 20th century, Andorra took off as a smugglers' crossroads during the Spanish Civil War and WWII, and since then it seems to have been trying to turn itself into the world's biggest duty free hall. Ironic really, seeing as it doesn't have an airport.
We stopped for a coffee and then bought some supplies in one of the supermarkets before having the novel experience of a customers officer examining Sheena and quizzing us on our purchases - we've been asked before (Switzerland, Croatia), but nobody has ever bothered to look thus far! Our three bottles of port and slab of beers didn't qualify as contraband so within a few minutes we were back in Spain.
Having been to all the other European micro-states, it seemed silly not to satisfy our curiosity and pass through Andorra on our way to La Alberca, especially as, of all the micro-states, Andorra is the most curious. Squashed between two powerful neighbours, both with rival claims to sovereignty - France through the Count of Foix and Spain through the Bishop of La Seu d'Urgell - you would have thought it would have ended up being partitioned like Navarre, another Pyrranean state. Instead the joint sovereignty arrangement lasted all the way from 1278 right through to a referendum that lead to formal independence in 1993. I could only come up with Anglo-Eygptian Sudan when trying to think of other joint-sovereignty arrangements, but that didn't last a century and can hardly compete.
I'm sure Andorra was quite pretty once, and indeed the roads into the country from both France and Spain offer spectacular views as their hairpin their way up the Pyrenees through woods turning red and gold (on the French side; on the Spanish side they were still a lush green). Once inside the country, however, the views are marred by tangles of cable cars and urban sprawl.
Andorra is basically a series of steep river valleys in the middle of which sits the capital, Andorra la Vella, and ski slopes. The bland apartment blocks and bargain-stuffed shops (Andorra has a sales tax of only 4%) hem in the road, which only increases the claustrophobic feeling the steep valley walls create. A European cul-de-sac until the 20th century, Andorra took off as a smugglers' crossroads during the Spanish Civil War and WWII, and since then it seems to have been trying to turn itself into the world's biggest duty free hall. Ironic really, seeing as it doesn't have an airport.
We stopped for a coffee and then bought some supplies in one of the supermarkets before having the novel experience of a customers officer examining Sheena and quizzing us on our purchases - we've been asked before (Switzerland, Croatia), but nobody has ever bothered to look thus far! Our three bottles of port and slab of beers didn't qualify as contraband so within a few minutes we were back in Spain.
Sunday, 19 October 2008
Learning to speak English
Kate and I have been accepted on a CELTA Teaching English as a Foreign Language course in Barcelona, starting November 3rd. So for the past week we've been trying to learn how to speak English!
Luckily we're staying with Kate's mother Cathy this week who is (like my Mum actually) a TEFL teacher, so she's been helping us with our pre-course homework. 6 months on the road without having to work have made this a bit of a culture shock, but Cathy has more or less guided us through the 3rd conditional, phrasal verbs and progressive tenses.
Next week we're off to warm up our language skills a bit more, spending a week in a four star hotel (expenses paid) near Salamanca talking English to Spanish learners on a Pueblo Ingles week. Should get us in the mood.
Then a month in Barcelona, lodging with a German translator, working 9 to 5. Culture shock alert! We're quite excited though.
Luckily we're staying with Kate's mother Cathy this week who is (like my Mum actually) a TEFL teacher, so she's been helping us with our pre-course homework. 6 months on the road without having to work have made this a bit of a culture shock, but Cathy has more or less guided us through the 3rd conditional, phrasal verbs and progressive tenses.
Next week we're off to warm up our language skills a bit more, spending a week in a four star hotel (expenses paid) near Salamanca talking English to Spanish learners on a Pueblo Ingles week. Should get us in the mood.
Then a month in Barcelona, lodging with a German translator, working 9 to 5. Culture shock alert! We're quite excited though.
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
Underground Railroad
http://www.the-fly.co.uk/words/reviews/live-reviews/3208/underground-railroad
We went up to Toulouse yesterday to see Underground Railroad a French band we know quite well; I once organised a UK tour for them. My review for The Fly is above - it was an ace show and wonderful to hang out with Raphael, Marion and JB again.
Turns out they are playing Barcelona next month - we'll probably see them there too!
We went up to Toulouse yesterday to see Underground Railroad a French band we know quite well; I once organised a UK tour for them. My review for The Fly is above - it was an ace show and wonderful to hang out with Raphael, Marion and JB again.
Turns out they are playing Barcelona next month - we'll probably see them there too!
Sunday, 12 October 2008
The Vines
When we embarked on our travels more than 6 months ago, at the beginning of April, the landscape that greeted us here in France was full of fields dotted with brown stumps. Gradually, over the following weeks, a few touches of green appeared on them and now, as we return to France those leaves are slowly turning red and the heavy bunches of fruit are visible from the roads. They are of course the vines, and in a way they have marked our travels around Europe, a natural calendar charting the time scale of our trip.
Yesterday was my birthday, my 27th, but instead of a lazy day after 3 days of driving, we were up at 7 to take part in le vindage - grape picking. Jean-Christophe and Christiane are a little like a French version of the Larkins, except they have fewer chilren and probably pay their income tax. Their little farm about 5 minutes from Cathy's is a menagerie of donkeys, horses, chickens, ducks, patridges, pigeons and finches, while they grow sunflowers, grapes, oilseed and plums.
Yesterday was my birthday, my 27th, but instead of a lazy day after 3 days of driving, we were up at 7 to take part in le vindage - grape picking. Jean-Christophe and Christiane are a little like a French version of the Larkins, except they have fewer chilren and probably pay their income tax. Their little farm about 5 minutes from Cathy's is a menagerie of donkeys, horses, chickens, ducks, patridges, pigeons and finches, while they grow sunflowers, grapes, oilseed and plums.
We and about a dozen other people - friends, family, neighbours - were helping them pick grapes for their own home-made red and rosé wines. There was no cash payment involved, just endless food and as much booze as was safe to drink while wielding a pair of secatuers. Beers were handed round the vines by way of mid-morning refreshment, while the four-course lunch was preceeded by copious potent apertifs of which Pa Larkin would have approved. Lunch itself was accompanied by the house vintage and afternoon tea (complete with pastry turned into a birthay cake for me) was washed down with sweet cider. When we were invited back for dinner (along with half the neighbourhood) and of course, more booze. Perfick!
The work itself wasn't hard - 3 hours in the warm morning sun then another one and a half in the afternoon when there were even more helpers got the job done.
Christophe stacked the crates on his forklift, emptied them into a machine to separate the grapes from the stems and got the fermentation process under way. Naturally all this was done in a very French way - everyone watching, momentarily taking charge or giving advice. Vastly entertaining for us though. All the gloom and doom in the news about the financial markets seems a world away from this rural idyll of helpful neighbours, home brew and rustic feasts. A perfick birthday.
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