Swimming and so longs Part 2 - by Theo

Rosie is still on a two nap regime (of her own choosing) which means that heading anywhere is always a logistical challenge in order not to end up with an irate toddler. This theory was duly put into practice when Jon suggested spending Sunday in Cercedilla, a mountain town in the Sierra to the north of Madrid, where there are some swimming pools fed by mountain springs called Las Berceas. There are of course plenty of swimming pools in Madrid itself, but with temperatures due to hit 38 degrees in the city, the relatively cooler temperatures of mountains definitely appealed.

With this in mind I took Rosie out for a mega-playground session that morning in order to get her nice and worn out, with the hope she would sleep happily in the car. We then arranged to meet Jon by the metro stop - he lives near us, but was coming from his girlfriend's in Canal. He was slightly late as he had popped back to his flat to grab his swimming trunks. Sure enough, shortly afterwards, Rosie nodded off in the car and slept most of the way there getting about 45 minutes nap-time. Less than she usually has, but we figured it would even out with a slightly longer than normal nap on the way back.

Las Berceas is gorgeous. Two large pools with deep and shallow ends set among lush lawns under shady stands of pines trees surrounded by forested mountain slopes. Absolutely stunning. The approach wasn't the most pushchair friendly, but do-able, passing under the tree-top rope walks of the adventure park next door. We found a shady spot and set out our rug and Rosie's play tent. It was about this point that Jon realised he had somehow, despite making a detour to get them, forgotten his swimming trunks. Kate and I tried hard not to laugh too much. We soon solved the problem though, as I lent him my (non swimming) shorts to swim in. This meant I later had to walk back to the car and drive home in only my (rather skimpy and tight-fitting) boxers. Kate did take a photo, but I'll spare you.

The water, when we did get in, was extremely refreshing - just what was required. After our attempts to entice Rosie into the water the previous day we didn't even bother trying her in the pools - much too cold for her liking. She was quite happy though, chasing after balls that weren't hers, counting pine cones and later walking around the adjacent picnic site (occasional tannoy announcements reminded the swimmers that picnicking wasn't permitted on the lawn.)

Refreshed and fed, we headed off about 3pm to let Rosie have her second nap, though we were soon no longer refreshed as the car was like an oven and the air conditioning is badly in need of a recharge. Still, she quickly dropped off and stayed asleep even when we pulled in to Canal to drop Jon off. As he jumped out I noticed something under the passenger seat - his swimming trunks!

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.

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!

Dia del Deportes

Well that was a lot of fun!

Yesterday we begged, bullied, cajoled and persuaded 20 of our Madrid-based friends to join us in our local park for an English Sports Day and Picnic. What with the gorgeous weather which is practically a permanent fixture here in Spain and the proximity of the shady, flat spaces of Parque Tierno Galvan, it seemed a crime not to! Egg and Spoon races, Rounders, Cricket and Three-legged races were all scheduled in, as we began to assemble from 1pm, with people coming and going all day and a hard-core dozen lasting a good 8 hours until a sudden thunderstorm sent us bolting for cover, hasty goodbyes said as our guests ran for the Metro.



Turn out was much better than expected, with a strong representation from our Pueblo Ingles friends and the writing group, and there was way too much food! As we have discovered many, many times during our 14 blissful months of marriage, when you ask people to bring something to share they make enough for about five people!! Maria-Jose's veggie croquetas, Jero's home-baked bread and Vanessa'a tortilla were among our favourites. In fact the, only thing we were short of was enough to drink, especially in the 30 degree heat, so several expeditions to the local supermercado were organised.



The egg and spoon races - 4 heats followed by semi-finals and then a grand final - caused much hilarity and some outrageous cheating, and were eventually won by the athlete from Senegal, Aboubacar, after the local challenger Javier and the early favourite Owain both suffered disastrous egg-breaks mid-race. (The GB representatives Kathleen and Richie took silver and bronze). However, in an outstanding display of Anglo-German cooperation Owain eventually grabbed a gold in the three-legged race when he and Nico narrowly triumphed over Kate and Maria-Jose's stylish team.



Rounders, played under a shady canopy with trees for bases and a rolling-pin as a bat, was popular with Max's tight pitching keeping some of the big-hitters in check and the first game finishing in a 8-8 tie. Cricket was less successful, though Sylmara - a Puerto Rican we'd met the weekend before - turned out to be a demon-bowler in her first ever attempt at playing. Naturally Kate got the guitar out as well - her Dirty Bitch Tango being requested by her loyal Pueblo Ingles fans - and Owain joined her for a duet on a song they'd written together. Then Javier wowed us all with some amazing magic tricks and sleights of hand, roping me into helping him with a trick he'd only explained to me once before; I just managed to get it right!

Of Monts and Molehills

Well as Kate has done a fine job letting you know what happened while still in England, it falls to me to let you know what we've been doing since getting to France. If you are short of time, here's a summary: stayed overnight in Cherbourg, drove to Mont Saint-Michel, took photos, drove to Dinan, checked into hotel.

Thanks for reading, do check back soon.

For those of you with more leisure time or a more pressing need to avoid doing any work, it's slightly more complicated than that. Our French is taking a while to warm up, so trying to first find a mechanic and then explain that we needed our headlights adjusted, straight off the boat while trying to get my head around the French traffic system was a bit of challenge. However we did it - sort of; we've put stickers over a section of the headlights to avoid blinding those on the other (left-hand) side of the road. So armed with a handy map of Cherbourg from the tourist office we decided (as it was now 3.30pm) to stay in Cherbourg rather than to push on to anywhere else. Priorities: a shower and to sort out the arrangement of luggage in Sheena. Last night had been comfortable, but cramped.

The Map pointed us in the direction of a campsite. After a few obligatory wrong turns we found it, only to find it was closed. Well, actually it was open, but all the shower and toilet blocks were locked up. Still there was running water on site, flat ground and it was near the beach, so we just decided to stay - if anyone turned up we'd offer to pay, but the unlocked gates seemed to suggest that they weren't too bothered. Well we'd always intended to do some free camping. This still left the issue of showers.

We solved this by going swimming. Not in the sea (tempting, but probably more than a bit nippy this time of year) but in the piscine next door. The plan was, have a dip then use the changing room showers. Brilliant. As ever, nothing was quite that simple. The next problem was that I only have Bermuda Short style swimming trunks and, for reasons unclear to me, these are banned from French swimming pools. Hmmmm. After fronting it out with the receptionist ("oui, oui, j'ai le malliot correct") I decided it was safer to go through in my boxer shorts, which, handily, were black and close fitting trunks. Had to tuck in the Calvin Klein waistband - could have been a bit of a give away - and felt unable to risk using the water slides, but otherwise Kate and I very much enjoyed our little dip, feeling buoyed up by our problem solving skills.


Suitably refreshed and cleansed we headed off in Sheena back into town to Carrefour, one of those gigantic French supermarkets, to buy a picnic dinner and the most obscene chocolate patisseries ever. We were both feeling much better by now, having managed both breakfast and lunch on the ferry. We felt great, sitting out behind Sheena in the warm evening sun eating bread and cheese with fruit and salad, sipping Champagne (thanks Jon and Sarah!) and toasting our good fortune. Later, after a romantic beach side stroll we retired to bed, feeling like we had just about everything worked out.

.... oh dear.
If the presence of countless molehills was anything to go by there used to be a pretty healthy mole population at the Collignon campsite before we arrived. After some rather fluid bowel movements the following morning this is probably no longer the case. I felt like I was committing mammal genocide as I madly dug with my shovel and squatted, intestines heaving, in the early dawn. All yesterday's optimism at our returning health - mine in particular - vanished pretty quickly. Kate's stomach was at least holding up, though the poor darlings lungs were behaving like those of a 60-a-dayer after a 3 mile swim through treacle. It was in rather duller spirits that we made our way through splendid sunshine and rural roads to the glorious Mont Saint Michel.