a post about the weather

Madrid´s weather is consistently consistent. It´s not that it´s always perfect - though it usually is - but rather the great thing about the weather here is that it lasts all day. So if you wake up and it´s bright sunshine and clear skies, you know it´s going to stay that way and you can leave the house in just shirt sleeves without risking a drenching later. Similar, if it starts off windy and rainy, it´s going to stay that way - you wont end up sweating as you lug a jacket and jumper around when the sun comes out. When it rains, it rains all day.

The Kindness Of Strangers by Kate

So here we are back in Madrid and suddenly I've been promoted on the Metro. In the last few days complete strangers have been giving up their seats in crowded carriages and inviting me to have them instead. This is both touching and gratifying and one of the best bits so far about my abdomen sporting a now unmistakeable bump.

Spaniards - generally speaking - are very much in favour of children, babies and pregnancy and I'm just starting to appreciate that fact. It doesn't help us insert ourselves and our potential new Madrilena into the Spanish ante-natal system (they're chocka and trying to book ourselves to have our now overdue anomalies scan is proving to be a bit of a struggle) but it does bathe things like Metro journeys in a benevolent glow.

So back to the beginning for a quick recap. Theo and I abandon contraception at the beginning of the year and get on with business as usual. Just as the weather gets seriously hot I start feeling unusual. Alcohol and caffeine are suddenly unattractive to my taste buds, my breasts feel a bit strange and I keep getting ravenously hungry, but just don't fancy eating anything. I break out in the type of acne I only get when there is extra progesterone in my system (experience with previous contraception). I can't remember when my last period was, but I start feeling suspicious and report the symptoms to my experienced sister (four children). She admits they sound fairly classic, but counsels against any over excitement about the situation just yet. I don't actually feel excited anyway, just a tad queasy.

Theo has gone off to a residential camp for a week. On the phone I tell him about my suspicions. He forbids me to self-diagnose until he gets back. I pass the next six days feeling disinclined to eat or drink anything sweet. How did I get this virtuous?

Theo returns and we do the pee stick. The line flames up positive even before I have a chance to pull my knickers back up. Theo is very excited about the prospect of suddenly probable parenthood. I feel justified.

The next few weeks pass in a heat haze and Theo is highly solicitous, dealing patiently with my new found fussiness about food and giving me lots of back rubs and foot-massages. I milk it.

We get back to England to see friends and family, lie to the NHS about our current address and book ourselves in to see a midwife and radiographer in Bristol.

The first scan seems fine, as far as these things do. We suddenly realise there really is a living thing in my belly, not just a collection of physical symptoms. We also realise we're two weeks further on than we thought. A bump - still smallish - obediently appears below my midriff. I scour Bristol's charity shops for roomier clothes. The midwife takes lots of blood out of my arm and nods approvingly when I tell her I don't drink or smoke and I fully intend to breast-feed. Theo doesn't watch the blood extraction part.

First hitch when we are told we have a high risk of our foetus (now christianed Fosbury) having Downs Syndrome. This is upsetting news. I calm down a bit when I realise that a 1 in 65 risk still means it's less than 2 per cent. Nevertheless, we opt to have amniocentesis and thankfully that all goes fine.
“Look out for its feet!” says Theo at one point during the procedure.
“Oh, I've stuck loads of needles in babies, don't worry about it,” says the consultant cheerfully. He doesn't on this occasion, thankfully.

A few days later we are back in Spain and the initial news from the amnio is good. The three chromosomes which are affected if Downs Syndrome is present are normal. Phew. Two weeks later we learn that in fact, all the chromosomes are normal and we are growing a female. We change the foetus' name to Fosbella.

Which brings us up to date as, having registered with the Spanish health system, we wait for our next scan (although most possible anomalies were checked at 17 and a half weeks and nothing untoward was seen then, so we're not hugely anxious). Anyway, it seems like a good plan to get it done as soon as possible, so we are considering paying for a private scan or pulling strings to see if we can get one done when we are back in Bristol for a wedding.
Meanwhile, I am busy committing foetal-related words in Spanish to memory. Luckily, being medical, they are largely the same as their English equivalents, just pronounced in a more Spanish way. Disappointingly, “scan” is not “escano ultra-sono”, as we had hoped. Never mind. In the meantime, I will keep on enjoying my new Metro privileges.

Birthday Weekend

Last weekend was not only my Birthday weekend - I reached the grand old age of 28 - but was also, rather awesomely, 4 days long. Thanks to the fact that we don´t work on Fridays and that Monday 12th was a holiday here in Spain for some reason or another, I had plenty of time to relax and enjoy myself.

Our first guests at our new flat arrived on Friday - my old school friend Dom and his Lithuanian girlfriend Justinia - and we quickly dashed to IKEA to buy a couple more chairs so we´d all have somewhere to sit. There had hitch-hiked and bussed their way to us from Braganza in Portugal where her sister is studying, and it was really nice to host them for a couple of days. A night out together on Friday featured all our favourite haunts - El Gato in Pueblo Nuevo, La Solea Flamenco Bar in La Latina and Choclateria San Gines - punctuated with in-depth political discussions; Dom and I have similar masters degrees (International Development and International Relations respectively) but different views. As Kate and I largely agree with each other in the political sphere our conversations on the subject rarely challenge us to justify our views, whereas Dom and I were still good-naturedly going at it when we dropped them at the airport on Sunday morning!

In between we hosted our first fiesta at our new flat, inviting a few friends over for drinks and tapas on Saturday night - I wanted to avoid the hideous Spanish tradition of the person whose birthday it is having to pay for everything - to warm the flat up. Rather stupidly we completely neglected to take any photos. Kate gave me a series of useful presents; shirts, a juicer and a hand blender - though she rather hilariously decided to start things off with a couple of kilos of oranges which left me rather perplexed, until the next present provided the rationale. A wonderful bottle of Venezuelan Rum from David and Nataly, some very fine wine from Cesar and Belen, a bottle of port from Dom and Justinia and some lovely scented stuff from Jero and Jose has helped make our flat even more homely.

our new flat

Our new flat is awesome! It was the last one we looked at - we saw five in total - and though it immediately became our first choice, we'd kind of forgotten how good it was until we actually moved in.

It's pretty large and very well equipped; for a flat to be 'furnished' here in Spain clearly means it comes with plates, pots and pans in the kitchen, meaning that much of the stuff we dug out of our parents attic is largely redundant. The spacious bathroom - many of those we saw were little more than corridors with a shower at the end - comes with both bath and bidet, while our sofa could easily accommodate any guests that don't fit in the spare room. We've got air conditioning, central heating and ceiling fans (none a given in Madrid, despite the massive range of seasonal temperatures) and a view out of our bedroom's covered terrace that looks like it came straight off the set of West Side Story. Even the decoration is good - prints of Dali's and van Gough's and a nicely toned down wooden floor - and at the least to obligatory sideboard is painted the same as the wall so doesn't dominate too much.

Almost better than the flat is the barrio, the surrounding neighbourhood. Mendez Alvaro, where we were living before, was great for public transport links and parks, but not much else - there was no atmosphere to the area. Here in Cuidad Lineal our quiet little street (free parking) is just round the corner from shady avenues lined with useful shops and atmospheric bars. We're a mere 5 minutes walk through pretty streets to the bustling Calle Acala, with it's miles of shops and metro stops. While we may technically be further away from the centre here, we definitely feel closer to the heart of Madrid.

Kate´s first Madrid gig

Kate's first gig in Madrid predictably went down a storm and resulted in the venue manager asking her back to play another concert; this despite the fact she only played two songs during the interlude between the main act's first and second sets!

Back when we first moved to Madrid, Kate replied to an ad placed by a guitarist in 'In Madrid', the English language what's on magazine. Through him she met Owain, with whom she's written a couple of songs, and through Owain, Jean-Bruce, a Gabonese singer-songwriter who immediately co-opted her into the fluctuating line up of Jean-Bruce and the Fangs.
Sadly, having been away for a couple of months, Kate had missed all the rehearsals but Jean-Bruce invited her to play a couple of her songs in between sets at a tiny little place called Pipo Cultura in Lavapies. More like a large sitting room in a crustie's flat than a bar, the tiny space was rammed - a big advantage of coopting lots of friends into a performance, it means you get a bigger audience! Jean-Bruce's sets were excellent, his songs easing from folk to soul, switching between English, Spanish and his native Fon. Kate picked a newish song 'Smile' and the old classic 'Dirty Bitch Tango', both of which went down really well with the mostly Spanish crowd despite the rather dodgy 'pa' (a guitar amp!). Here's to the next one.

new beginnings

This weekend heralds something of a fresh start for Kate and I in Spain. After nearly two weeks of job-less, home-less limbo enjoy the wonderful hospitality of our friends Kirsty and Juanmi in Vaciamadrid, we are about to move into a new flat and start new jobs.

We exchanged contracts on a lovely 2 bedroom apartment in Cuidad Lineal earlier this morning. Our new landlord and landlady are an elderly couple who live on the floor below, the flat used to be their son´s and their duaghter lives directly below us. Very much a family affair! It´s got everything we need, is reasonably close to the Metro and the surrounding area seems to be quite quiet while still hosting several lively looking bars and lots of amenities. Ironically enough it´s very close to the academy I was teaching at last term though, while I was very happy there, I´m glad we´ve moved.

The advantages of switching academies were immediately apparent when we recieved our timetables. Knocking off at 9pm rather than 10pm makes a huge difference and the kids classes last 50 minutes instead of 1 hour 20, which is going to be a hell of a lots more bearable. As the students will be drawn from the poshest barrio in town (Salamanca) they should also, theoretically, be better behaved than the monsters I was marshalling last term. In addition much of the lesson planning is done for us in advance; we just have to fine tune the plans provided to suit our own styles. However, the biggest benefit of our new posts is the 3 day weekends we get every other, we share two staurday classes with another teacher and never work fridays. We´re already thinking about some weekends away in Delilah...

flat frustrations

We´re beginning to understand why so many young (or not so young) Spanish couples tend to remain living with their parents for so long - finding a flat in Madrid is a frustrating and time consuming enterprise.

It´s not that there aren´t flats available - there are loads (one website - http://www.idealista.com/ - lists over 9 thousand) - it´s just that getting an appointment to view one and then actually putting pen to paper is a process that makes the Byzantine bureaucracy look straightforward. Despite our best efforts to arrange viewings by e mail and text message, it took the intevention of our good friend Cesar, who kindly made some phone calls on our behalf (after only 24 hours back in Spain our spanish wasn´t up to it) to get us some viewings. Meanwhile we sat around in Kirsty and Juanmi´s lovely new house, getting increasingly frustrated at our inability to do anything and more and more horrified at the lack of taste so many of the photos of flats to rent demonstrated. Some of the floor patterning would have induced migraines and, possibly, brought out any latent epileptic trends, while the Spanish obsession with massive sideboards seems to know no limits. These are by no means the worst examples we´ve seen!

I wonder if "Changing Rooms" could be tempted to do a Madrid espisode?

Anyway, after the third viewing (after being pipped to the post at the first flat we saw) we thought we´d found a flat and a barrio we´d be happy with. A reasonably spacious 2 bedroom apartment, not too pricey, with a very sympathetic landlady who just wanted us to complete a few financial tasks before we could sign. As well as a deposit and a month´s rent in advance, she wanted us to have a 6 month Aval with our Bank. On inquiry at our bank the following morning, we discovered to our horror that this essentially meant tying up 5000 euros in an account we couldn´t touch for a year, with a bank fee of 400 euros for the privilege. Ouch! So we´ve kept looking. We saw two more flats last night that we liked, the second one in particular, though unfortunately it´s an agency let and the office is closed until Monday 9am. We´ve now got a nervous weekend ahead hoping nobody else has beaten us to it.

Introducing.... Delilah Delica!!

So, now that our beloved Sheena has moved on to pastures new, you may be wanting to know what we're driving now.


It's our great pleasure to introduce to you Delilah the Delica!
Yes. Not really any smaller (though she is shorter) - in our defence we did try to buy a Volvo Estate but had it snatched from us, so we went with the choice of our hearts (if not our heads) and bought this beast. She's the same age as Sheena (1995) but half the milage and way more comfortable. A 7 seat MPV rather than a campervan, we can still make a bed up out of the rear seats went we do want to go away for a weekend, but without all of the accoutrements of a conversion there's way more space. She's much nicer to drive, has flashy things like air conditioning (a must in Spain, frankly) and sun roofs, and we're very pleased with her.