The Flamboyance of Murcia

Following on from our previous post where we focused in on the letter "F";

Q. What do the words Flamboyant, Flamenco and Flamingo all have in common? 

A. Obviousy they all begin with the letter F (followed by l, a and m of course). They appear consecutively in the Collins Pocket English Dictionary (except for the fact that the word Flame separates Flamboyant and Flamenco but close enough). And talking of close, they can all be found within a few minutes walk from the El Real Thing front door in Murcia.

In the pre-apocalyptic days of 12 months ago when the word corona was associated with either that ring of light around the moon or sun, or cigars, or (if you're old enough) bottles of pop and certainly nothing at all to do with the Wu-Flu, Mrs C and I were contemplating a cheeky few days back in Spain. Escaping the cold and wet of East Lancashire in November for the Spring-like warmth of the Murcian sun should qualify as an accepted definition of the word "sensible". Okay, you're not going to be sat outside of an evening sipping on cocktails at this time of the year but during the day, with temperatures typically ranging between 18 and 22 degrees, the outdoor world is your lobster. And once the sun has set and the temperature starts to suggest long trousers and a jumper to be in order, there are plenty of bars and restaurants to tempt you away from a night in front of the TV should you be so inclined. And so it was, a few days later, that Mrs C and I treated ourselves to an evening of Flamenco at El Secreto Lounge in Mar de Cristal, just a ten minute stroll from our front door. Now, you've all heard of flamenco and will know it to be a flamboyant expression of Spanish-ness. You might not know that an evening of flamenco is intensely enjoyable, intensely atmospheric and intensely knackering. If you get the opportunity to experience flamenco first hand then you should absolutely do so but take at least two paracetamols before you leave the house and treat yourself to a lie-in the next morning.

Showing my ignorance now but I always previously associated flamingos with the TV programme Miami Vice and David Attenborough documentaries. Thirty years ago when I was working in Gibraltar, I couldn't quite get over the fact that I shared my locale with real live monkeys and it was a not dissimilar revelation when I first drove past a flock (or herd or pack?) of real live, pink flamingos at the salt flats - las salinas - Playa Honda just down the road from Mar de Cristal on the southern shores of the Mar Menor. To be fair the flamingos are better known for congregating in and around San Pedro del Pinatar on the northern shores but wherever on the Mar Menor shoreline they choose to practice their standing-on-one-leg routine, it still blows my mind a little bit that I have real live, pink flamingos as neighbours. Okay, they're not all pink because that demands a certain maturity and suitable diet but the nature reserve environment that fosters these lanky, unelegant but spectacular creatures gives them every chance of an eventual existence in the pink. And despite your misgivings, I do actually know the collective noun for a group of flamingos and it is, quite fittingly, a flamboyance. In fact, such a flamboyance of flamingos was witnessed by myself whilst playing* tennis in nearby Los Urrutias this last summer. "I say chaps, look at that flamboyance of flamingos on the beach" I shouted. Probably.

* The word "playing" is something of an overstatement in describing my involvement on the tennis court and should more accurately be described as "attending". 

So then, who would have thought it possible to find three (almost) consecutive words in the dictionary and link them so seamlessly to Murcia? Not to be sneezed at eh? And just thank your lucky stars that I didn't get down the page as far as the word Flange. Trust me, having spent the last 15 years hiring out flange spreading and tightening tools it wouldn't have been beyond me.

Top Five Best Things About Lockdown In Spain

This may surprise a lot of you but when it comes to the Covid-19 virus pandemic, I am a bit of a lockdown sceptic. I know, I've kept it well hidden to date but there you go, I'm entitled to my views and, to quote Harry Enfield's Yorkshireman "I say what I like and I like what I bloody well say". In an Essex accent of course. But, lockdown can't have been all bad can it? Just to prove how open-minded we are here at El Real Thing, we've put together the top five best things about lockdown in Spain. And, if you (can be arsed to) make it through to the end of this blog, then we will scientifically test how open minded you actually are. Ha ha! You can only judge our open-mindedness once you have demonstrated your own open-mindedness. Cunning. Here we go then, in no particular order, the top five best things about lockdown in Spain were;

BEST THING No. 1 - SHOPPING

Mahou IPA. The girl done good!

Yes, shopping. Hard to believe eh? Shopping was materially enhanced by the initial lockdown because only one person was allowed to leave the house for essential reasons such as actually needing to feed yourself. Fortunately for El Real Thing Mrs C can drive so it was Mrs C that ventured to the supermarket for essentials of food and beer. Having only just, at that time, started out on the El Real Thing quest for #RealBeerInSpain Mrs C excelled herself in her beer purchases and as a resut of which cans of Mahou IPA first made their way into our Spanish kitchen. Good beer and no chance of my getting press-ganged into a supermarket visit. Result! But we were the lucky ones. With many ladies of a "certain age" in Spain being unable to drive, and only one member per household allowed to leave the house for shopping, reports filtered back of scores of bewildered looking men roaming the supermarket aisles, sometimes for days on end, in a dystopian existence where life and death might hinge on the fortuitous discovery of chicken stock cubes or the courage and linguistic capability to ask where one might find theTena Lady Maxi pads. 

BEST THING No. 2 - RUBBISH

In Spain, there is no fortnightly visit of the dustbinmen to one's abode to whisk away the detritus of everyday life. Instead, it gets whisked away pretty much every day but the price one has to pay for this vastly superior exercise in hygiene is that you have to take your own rubbish, typically on a daily basis, to the big wheely bins at the end of the street from where the whisking takes place. This would never catch on in the UK because we'd always get wet but of course this isn't an issue in Spain where it's always sunny. And because it's always sunny, the daily trip to the big wheely bins at the end of the street is usually a precursor to a nice stroll anyway. Lovely. But, as above, during Spanish lockdown you could only leave the house for essential purposes such as shopping and..........going to the bins! 

The problem was that only one of us could go. Mrs C was already having to undertake the onerous duty of essential shopping so it would have been inappropriate to deny her the legitimate licence of escape afforded by the daily rubbish run. However, adversity breeds innovation and I determined to fill a second daily bag full of (apparent) rubbish by consuming greater quantities of the Mahou IPA and NOT crushing the empty cans. Conscious of regular patrols being undertaken by the Guardia Civil to stop and fine people without legitimate and essential reason to be outside (carrying half-empty bags of rubbish?) I made up the remaining bin bag capacity with various bulky items from around the apartment. The Spanish rubbish collection arrangements helped keep me sane throughout lockdown although I do miss the coffee table and unfortunately the plants all died after I disposed of the watering can.    

BEST THING No. 3 - DO-IT-YOURSELF

Yes, it's another surprise inclusion with DIY being one of the top five best things about lockdown in Spain. On the evening of Friday 13th March (unlucky for some) having learnt of the impending lockdown in Spain due to commence the following day, Mrs C and I hot-footed it to Leroy Merlin's to purchase a great big tin of interior white emulsion and a variety of paint brushes. In the ensuing seven weeks, we painted the interior of the whole apartment, we painted the outside front wall (we already had that particular paint), we painted the rear patio wall, we repaired the sunken rear patio tiles, we varnished the decorative woodwork out front and back, we varnished the shutter doors, we painted this, we repaired that, we painted everything again, we produced a bit of exterior artwork out of old pallets spirited away from a nearby building site, we threw the exterior artwork away having determined it was better employed as an opportunity for a visit to the bins, and we cleaned and we painted and we .............................................well, bugger me it was sooooooooo boring. 

Friday 13th was unlucky not just for some but for bloody everyone in Spain. The day they announced they were taking our civil liberties away. Whoa, I'm beginning to feel my open-mindedness ever so slowly closing shut.

BEST THING No. 4 - NOT MUCH

Deprived of all this because going for a stroll was not
considered an "essential reason" for leaving the house.

To be fair. Not much at all. Sitting out on the front balcony, in the sunshine, with a beer every afternoon was nice. As was going for a swim every day from mid-April onwards. And comparing notes, coffees and beers with immediate neighbours similarly confined to life under this new dictatorship government. But being consigned to effective house arrest, under threat of large fines for non-compliance just does not equate to anything that can be described as "best". So you can forget about a BEST THING No. 5 because there ain't one.  

THERE AIN'T NO "F" IN LOCKDOWN

There is no "F" in Lockdown but there is an "F" in Fear and the governments of Spain, the UK and beyond are guilty of having employed the fear factor in seeking to ensure a compliant population as they impose the type of restrictions on our freedoms and liberties that might make a dominatrix blush. And as for our open-mindedness here at El Real Thing - has this blog merely served to disprove our assertion above? Well, before you make your mind up on our open-mindedness, how about you test out your own. There may be no "F"'s in Lockdown but try reading the four lines of words below and count the total number of F's.

THE FEAR FACTOR IS THE RE-

SULT OF YEARS OF SCIENTIF-

IC STUDY COMBINED WITH THE

EXPERIENCE OF MANY YEARS

Be honest now. How many did you count? If you counted three (as most people do) then read again. The correct answer is six. In fact we're told that as many as 85% of people initially give the answer as three. So, did you count three or six? If you counted three then this bona fide scientific survey suggests that you're not as open-minded as you might care to think so you must buck your ideas up! If you counted six then you are indeed an open-minded individual and having read this blog you will be sufficiently open-minded to give us the benefit of the doubt irrespective of whether you're a lockdown sceptic or not. Let us know how you get on and we'll conduct an entirely scientific survey into the result. Probably.

Politicians - A Special Kind of Stupid?

This particular chiringuito unimpressed with the Covid-19 threat.

On 15 March 2020, a lockdown was imposed on El Real Thing (and lots of others to be fair) by the Spanish authorities and since then - 240 days and counting - we have existed in various stages of restricted liberty between Spain and the UK whilst politicians in both countries (and across the globe to be fair) bid to out-do each other in The "How-Much-Can-We-Get-Away-With-Restricting-Personal-Freedoms" Stakes. In Murcia, the Regional Government very recently determined that customers in bars and restaurants had to wear masks at all times, removing them only to take mouthfuls of food and/or sips of drinks and replacing the masks immediately after each mouthful/sip. I mean, you've got to be a special kind of stupid to think that is a sensible idea. Remember, it's all for your own good. Yeah, well the East German authorities said similar when they built the Berlin Wall didn't they. Needless to say, all bars and restaurants in Murcia closed a few days later. 

It doesn't matter what your views may be on the potency or otherwise of this Covid-19 pandemic, the respective current lockdowns in Spain and the UK are undemocratic, imposed without proper debate and justified by fantasy interpretations and projections. Throughout the last 240 days the lockdown restrictions in Spain are generally recognised to have been far stricter and infinitely better adhered to than those in the UK - yet neither have worked. Whilst in Sweden they didn't lock down the people and trash the economy, instead they asked everyone to observe some common sense rules on cleanliness and distancing and ten months down the line they are certainly no worse off than Spain or the UK or indeed the rest of Europe. No one here is doubting the potential for severe consequence of anyone unlucky enough to go down with Covid-19, but we know enough about it now to know that it isn't going to wipe out the human race and it is, in fact, a new and unwelcome respiratory illness acting in the way that respiratory illnesses do in tending to unleash its greatest damage on the old and medically vulnerable, particularly during the winter season so congratulations to all politicians in suppressing the spread of the illness over the summer and into the winter.

So, if the restrictions aren't working, why the continued fixation with "locking down" (imprisoning?) the population? At the outset of all this, nobody really knew what we were up against (with the possible exception of the Chinese - Mind the Fridge Door and all that) so we accepted that extraordinary times demanded extraordinary measures. But now, nine months down the line and with nine months worth of data, we need the politicians to do what they are supposed to do and that is to make sensible decisions. "Follow the science" was fair enough when we only had the one set of scientists and their advice to rely on. But now, with nine months of data and plenty of other scientists saying different (see Great Barrington Declaration ) it is the politicians who need to make the judgment calls weighing up the risks presented by Covid-19 versus the risks and costs of the proposed "cure". That is why we elect politicians and not doctors in the first place. Ask the doctors how to reduce the numbers of road traffic accidents and they would probably recommend banning cars. 

Prediction: The politicians (certainly in the UK) know that they have got it wrong. As with all respiratory illnesses, Covid-19 will wreak more havoc in the winter months so we can expect numbers of cases and deaths to rise. The politicians will continue with the undemocratic imposition of restrictions into the Spring and then, with seasonality playing its part in reducing these numbers, they will announce the measures to have been a success, thus justifying all that has gone before. But; 

The more people begin to look at, study and assess the data now available the more they will realise that the politicians have not been honest with us. Civil liberties, the basic rights and freedoms granted to peoples fortunate enough to live in democracies have been trashed. Freedom of speech, freedom of movement, freedom from arbitary arrest, freedom of assembly, freedom of association and freedom of religious worship. These rights and freedoms form the basis of a democratic society yet every single one of the freedoms listed have been denied us, to varying extents and at various stages, during the last 240 days. But what the hell has any of this to do with a blog ostensibly about enjoying life as an expat in Spain? Well, Mrs C and I are unanimous on this. If you are not prepared to stand up for and defend your basic rights and freedoms then don't be surprised when the "new normal" (we really hate that phrase) means that you can't simply set off to Spain (or anywhere else for that matter) without wearing a mask, without having taken a Covid test, without having downloaded the government's Covid App and without having a certificate of innoculation. Don't be surprised if you can't even afford to set off to Spain (or anywhere else) because your job/ business/ livelihood is lost amongst the myriad casualties of the Covid-inspired destruction of the economy. Don't be surprised if you can't book a flight, budget-price or otherwise, to Spain (or anywhere else) because the airlines have gone out of business. Don't be surprised that the "cure" turned out to be much more expensive, much more damaging and completely disproportionate to the problem.

Last week in the UK, 32 government backbench MP's voted against the lockdown and another 21 abstained. Even Theresa May (Mrs C has always quite liked her but she goes down in my book as the worst Prime Minister ever) accused Boris Johnson of choosing data to fit his Covid-19 policies when it should be the other way round. Boris has (perhaps unconsciously deliberately) backed himself into a 2nd December corner, this being the date that the current UK lockdown expires and when further restrictions will require more Parliamentary debate and division. Between now and then, increasing numbers of MP's are demanding greater rigour in the data, to include impact assessment and cost to the economy of further lockdown - and so should we. If we the people are expected, however temporarily, to waive our basic rights and freedoms then the very least we should expect is that we do so in the knowledge that government policy is based on robust data, reliable testing and proportionality. If we here at El Real Thing want to get back to enjoying Spain as before and travel bloggers around the world want to get back to travel blogging around the world as before, then standing meekly by whilst politicians do what they want without challenge is not an option. Wanderlust will become Wonderlust as in "I wonder what it was like before Covid". Long Haul will be the description for the time it takes to fill in all the paperwork required just to leave your front door and Half Board/ Full Board will become Half Bored/ Full Bored being likely descriptions of your state of mind whilst stuck at home when you might otherwise have been travelling. Okay, I may be prone to exaggeration but do not let yourself be kettled into a "new normal" if you were quite happy with the previous one. Our rights and freedoms are being stress tested courtesy of the trojan horse that is Covid-19, a respiratory illness which data shows has already passed from pandemic stage to endemic. We don't want to catch it, but we won't lock ourselves away from the world in an effort to avoid it. And we don't need or want politicians locking us away "for our own good", not without very good, properly argued reason and debate. 

Politicians are there to represent and serve the people, not the other way round. Demand something better than stupid.  

Do You Know the Way to San Jose?

Dionne Warwick may have been a great singer but even now, at the age of 79, she really hasn't got much excuse for not being able to find her way to San Jose. A mere 340 miles north west of Los Angeles, she would just need to take US Highway One out of L.A. and in around six hours, which includes a couple of wee stops (she is 79 after all) she'd be there. Bingo! Nothing to it. But if she were contemplating a road trip from the UK to San Jose in Spain, then we could forgive her for being a tad nervous about the prospect of going wrong and losing her way. So, in the absence of trains and boats and planes as a travel option, we at El Real Thing will help her make it easy on herself because, after all, that's what friends are for.  

Driving to Spain is an adventure. It's not for everyone but we love it, even though the French bit is boring. For us, France is there just to get through. That is not to say that we haven't found some wonderful overnight stops whilst driving through the country but France is basically the stick through which to get to the carrot that is Spain. Driving through Spain is just wonderful. And as this blog is about Spain, we shall condense the French bit into the following short paragraph;

Calais (via tunnel), toll road tourist route heading Rouen, Le Mans, Tours, Poitiers, Bordeaux but then we deviate from the main tourist route heading to Pau and then Zaragoza (signed Saragosse in France) to enter Spain through the Somport Tunnel. Total distance 720 miles. Toll charge total €109.70. Tip: use french-toll-tags on the French toll roads to avoid queues, frustration and possible divorce. 

Taking the Somport Tunnel route through the Pyrenees allows for a toll-free route through Spain right down to the Region of Murcia and one which we think a typical crow would be proud. Once in Spain, we aim for Zaragoza, Teruel, Cuenca (but see next paragraph), Albacete, Murcia and Cartagena then we're pretty much there after 480 miles. Dionne, bless her, would still have another 130 miles beyond Murcia to get to San Jose, near Almeria and she's probably wishin' and hopin' that she was there but hang on in there girl, another couple of hours and one more wee stop should do it.  

Cuenca, by all accounts, is a beautiful city and well worth a visit although with that crow in mind, whilst we initially head to Cuenca from Teruel on the N420 we turn off at Carboneras and do a little cross-country to pick up the N320 which is the road from Cuenca heading to Albacete. Don't worry, it will make sense when you look at a map.

So that's the bare bones of the route but what about the adventure itself? Well, we have done the trip non-stop on one occasion (didn't enjoy it - my ankles swelled up!), more typically with two overnight stops and most recently, last summer, returning to the UK on a very leisurely three overnight stop schedule. On the Spanish part of the above route we have stopped over in Zaragoza and Teruel, and on previous route variations we've stayed in Pamplona and San Sebastian, all of which offer spectacular, very Spanishy city centre bars, restaurants and facilities. Two years ago we travelled through France on the E1 route as we decided to stop over for a couple of nights in Barcelona. However that does of course bring the Spanish toll roads into play and these, aside from depriving you of more money, can also get very busy.

Whilst it may be sensible to book ahead during the main six-week summer holiday season, we prefer to play the overnight stops by ear. Setting off to drive, say, 400 miles in one day to reach your booked destination is fine if the weather, the traffic, your ankles and a general feeling of (both driver's and passenger's) healthy well-being all combine to behave themselves. But what if they don't? Last summer, we were gearing ourselves up to stop at around 5.00 p.m. in Rouen so that we could do justice to exploration of the historic city centre there but then the heavens opened and the forecast was for same all night. So we spent another four hours in the car and got as far as Le Mans, utilised booking.com to find an overnight stop where we could get a meal, a comfy bed and an early getaway. A four hour headstart the next morning got us all the way down to Teruel that evening where booking.com again came up trumps with a lovely 4-star hotel in the city centre at a ridiculously cheap room rate. And it wasn't raining. We do find that Spanish hotels typically offer substantially better value for money than the French ones en-route and they generally offer better weather too.

Obviously one learns from experience. Over the last 12 years, we have learnt that;

• you must always sing "Under the Sea" (from The Little Mermaid) once the Eurotunnel train goes into the tunnel.
• sleeping in the car isn't great - not when there's four of you.
• sleeping in the car in the foothills of the Pyrenees, even in late August, is bloody cold.
• calling it "an adventure" won't wash with the family a second time.
• parking up at night, adjacent to an airport (whether knowingly or otherwise), should guarantee that early morning start you wanted.
• the inside of your car windscreen will never not be foggy once you have slept in it.
• hotels are generally a better idea.
• quirky, town centre, bed & breakfast type hotels in France will have pungent, chemical toilets in what were previously bedroom cupboards thus providing intense aromas with notes of contortionism.  
• French motorway service station croissants and their vending-machine coffees are life savers.
• French motorway service station pre-packed sandwiches may as well be eaten with the packaging still in place because they taste like plastic.
• Learn to count beyond ten in French (or cue panic when you realise you've just filled up at pump no. 13 at the motorway service station).
• After a long day in the car, aim to get to your hotel by 7.00 p.m. latest, freshen up, go straight out, have a couple of beers and a meal. You will be back at your hotel by 9.00 p.m., in bed fifteen minutes later and up with the larks for a 7.00 a.m. departure.
• French beer is expensive but you only need two for the magic to work.
• The Somport Tunnel, between France and Spain is 5.3 miles long.
• Driving in Spain is a million times better than driving through France
• All the spectacular scenery is in Spain
• Petrol is cheaper in Spain than in France
• France sucks

So then, that is our not-very-detailed, hardly worth it, bit of a guide to driving from the UK to Spain. You need to sort out your car headlights beforehand (although you can buy the headlamp converters at the Eurotunnel terminal), make sure that you have a GB sticker displayed and all legal accessories easily accessible inside the car, not the boot (just google requirements for France and add in an extra hi-viz vest for each passenger which is the additional requirement for Spain). 

One final bit of advice.............bacon sandwiches! 

If you're aiming to do the journey quickly and don't want to waste time stopping for non-essentials such as food, the best thing you can take with you is two days' worth of bacon sandwiches made with Warburton's Toasty sliced white bread. It has been scientifically proven* that the Toasty bread is the right thickness ro retain the bacon flavour without going too soggy over 24/48 hours, thus ensuring that the sandwich is even tastier on Day 2**.

* Scientifically proven by me

** Unfortunately it doesn't work for Day 3  

   

Our Mate Trevor

We didn't want subsequent blog posts to push Trevor out of sight or mind so he's now got
his own page - see menu for Our Mate Trevor. 

A Healthy Dose of Scepticism?

These legs are rapidly losing their tan after
14 days of isolation living in a cave somewhere
in the wilds of East Lancashire (probably). 

As that well known football chant goes - It's all gone quiet over there! 

Where have we been at El Real Thing over the last three weeks? No blogs. No tweets. It's almost as if we've given up on Spain. What on earth has been going on?

They didn't teach the art of being permanently offended when I was at school but in an age of political correctness, the old joke that Irish medical experts have invented a cure for which there is no known illness is obviously now racist, undoubtedly bigoted, probably offensive to cross-dressers and most definitely not funny. But it does provide an excellent metaphor for the current times we are living through as governments worldwide come up with new and ambiguous ways to control the spread of a supposedly deadly virus whilst simultaneously crashing the world economy. If an evil genius somewhere had been working on a plan to dismantle capitalism, control the population and encourage complete reliance on the state, then he would have been hard-pressed to come up with something more outrageous, devious and downright brilliant than Covid-19 as a means to carry out his fiendish plan.
So, I hear you ask, what's all this got to do with El Real Thing where we like to concentrate on real beer in Spain, real football in Spain and real Spain itself? Well, I'll tell you what it's got to do with El Real Thing. El Real Thing's plans for world domination have been completely scuppered by all this Covidiocy over the last three weeks and we're not happy. Okay, world domination might be pushing it a bit but popping back home to the UK for five weeks, to prepare for another several-week stint in Spain thereafter, was all part of the master plan. With the 14-day quarantine restrictions lifted for travellers returning to the UK from overseas our Ryanair flight back to Blighty was duly booked for 30 July. But by the time 30 July arrived, the UK government had decided to reimpose the 14-day quarantine restrictions for travellers returning to the UK........but only those returning from Spain. Bastards! And then, within four hours of actually arriving home, the UK government double-whammied us with the announcement that our home town was to face additional restrictions of individual liberties because of an Islamic holiday. Double bastards! 
I mean, we none of us advocate irresponsible behaviour in times of such (choose which applicable) crisis/ concern/ mess/ plight/ drama/ hardship/ scare-the-population-so-that-they-do-what-we-tell-them but ordering me (do they not know who I am?) to lock myself away for 14 days having travelled from the safest part of Spain to one of the (apparently) unsafest parts of England is the equivalent of telling me to wipe my feet as I leave the house. 
I confess that I am a mask-sceptic. The merits of a chocolate teapot comes to mind so I am not altogether chuffed with the Spanish government and their current edict on mask-wearing but as a guest in that country, I (reluctanty) accepted that I had to act the good guest. But honestly, it doesn't take a genius (evil or otherwise) to see that many people in Spain and the UK have been scared witless by a constant bombardment from both government and a slavering media intent on over-stating all scare stories and under-stating any good Covid-related news. Did you know the recovery rate for Covid infections is actually 99.9%? Here at El Real Thing we don't pretend to know all the answers, we just fear that not enough of the decision makers actually know the right questions and it's almost certainly not their fault. We reckon that if you laid all the so-called medical experts, head to foot, in a straight line they still wouldn't reach a conclusion. So the situation calls for a bit more common sense in dealing with a virus which is producing fewer fatalities per infection than previous outbreaks of seasonal flu. We can't protect ourselves from everything and we don't want to live in glass cases. Chocolate teapots, restrictions on the liberty of healthy people and a broken world economy do not add up to a common sense approach. As a well known President of the USA has said, "we cannot let the cure be worse than the problem". 

Forty eight cans of Brewdog helped keep us
sane during isolation. Our cave hideaway
enjoyed some nice views of Burnley. The town
hall can just be seen in the image background.

Unsurprisingly, we are still as fit as the proverbial fiddles and we could have spent the last 14 days saving the UK economy by supporting the hostelry sector and utilising the Eat Out to Help Out Scheme (we're very public spirited in that way) but instead we've spent this time rotting away in solitary confinement with only a mail-order 48-can Brewdog pack  to keep us company. And now that we have been released back in to society, is our early September return to Spain in jeopardy? Our 3-night research trip to Palma vulnerable? Our whole El Real Thing raison d'etre in peril? Mrs C is a tad concerned I can tell you.
Now, whilst it is feasible that a sliver of tongue-in-cheek has infiltrated some of the above, we fear that much of what we are currently seeing in terms of restrictions on individual liberties, including rights and freedoms to travel, could become norms if we are not careful, sacrificed on the altar of public health and nanny state knows best. Within reason and common sense, free spirits need to remain free spirits. We look to you our fellow travellers to keep the free spirit flame flickering. Bon voyage (very soon we hope).

Going Dutch

Neighbours. As the song goes; everybody needs good neighbours. And short of getting Kylie to move in next door to you, what more could a person ask than to share the delights of Spain with like-minded hispanophiles from across Europe?

Of all our mainland European neighbours I have long felt that the Dutch are closest to the Brits in terms of personality, character and sense of humour. To be fair, that's maybe not too difficult with the French and Germans as the main competition but, even so, your typical Hollander speaks excellent English, they actually like the Brits and (I rest my case m'lud)........they play cricket.

I have always liked the Dutch. As a child I remember we hosted a couple from our twin-town Cuijk who travelled with members of the town band to help celebrate Maldon's (my home town in Essex) 800 years as a Borough. We made them repay the compliment a year or two later by turning up, unannounced, at their front door in Cuijk where they graciously fed the four of us and their eldest boy gave me a football magazine about the then European Cup champions AFC Ajax. The magazine was in Dutch so I couldn't decipher a word of it but it was probably over 40 years before I eventually parted company with it as part of the "you're-fifty-odd-you-never-look-at-them-they-take-up-too-much-room" final reckoning for my football programme collection. Anyway, it's funny how little acts of kindness and generosity stick with you. The meal by the way was excellent although they wouldn't tell us what it was we had eaten. Later we twigged it was probably horse steak which actually wouldn't have fazed us but they probably felt best to keep schtum, just in case.

More latterly I have enjoyed professional dealings over several years with the Dutch staff at the European base of a US company based near Kerkrade in the little testicle that is South East Holland (check it out on a map, near Maastricht and you'll see what I mean). They are lovely people. So you get what I'm saying. We like the Dutch and therefore it was a pleasure to invite round our Dutch neighbours Jason and Kylie last night for some beer tasting. 

Now, it turns out that wherever I go in Europe the beers generally are stronger than we might typically find back home in the UK so the 3.8% to 6.6% range of ABV's we had in store for Jason and Kylie were never likely to faze them. In fact, with Jason having only recently fallen off his boat into the marina and with both of them needing rescuing from the sea by lifeguards three days earlier, I was beginning to suspect that our beer tasting session might actually help sober them up. So, we started off with Mahou IPA (4.5%) and worked our way through Cruzcampo IPA (5.5%), San Miguel's Yakima Valley American IPA (6.1%), Tyris VIPA (3.8%), Damm Inedit (4.8%) and Damm's Complot IPA (6.6%), all of which accompanied by a very acceptable selection of tapas produced by Kylie and Mrs C. 

Of the six different beers we tasted, only two have not previously been pronounced upon by this blog, they being the Damm Inedit and Yakima Valley. The Inedit is a malt and wheat beer brewed with spices and apparently created by Ferran Adria, the world's most award winning chef. Well, I've never heard of the bloke before but if he likes creating tasty beer then that's okay by me and the Inedit is indeed a very tasty and enjoyable beer. The tasting notes describe it as intense and complex on the nose....its sweet spices and fruity notes combine with fresh yeastiness and flowery sensations....the infusion of coriander, liquorice and orange peel permeates the impression on the palate....its subtle, well-integrated carbonation perfectly highlights these tastes in the mouth....it is creamy, soft and versatile in food pairings....long pleasant aftertaste. And you know what? It's all that. Maybe not one to throw down your neck in a session but rather one to bring out to complement a fine dining experience. So you would think (hope possibly?) that an offering from the brewing giant that is San Miguel might rather pale by comparison but you would be wrong. For me, the Yakima Valley IPA is the find of our four month Covid-enabled Spanish sojourn. Already on my second can as I write this and with google translate apparently on a break, all I can tell you from the San Miguel website notes is that they describe Yakima Valley as refrescante y aromatica. Well, trust me, they are doing it a huge injustice. It is bloody delicious.

And what of Jason and Kylie I hear you ask. Well, they just sank everything we threw at them. The Inedit went down particularly well with Kylie and Mrs C but, to be fair, so did everything else. And as suggested above, we were probably doing them a favour anyway by sobering them up . Anyway, the beer and conversation flowed and by the end of the evening, it was clear that the Brits and the Dutch are indeed European cousins whereas the French and Germans probably only qualify as second cousins (twice removed?). Herman (he from Calblanque - see previous blog) misses the cut completely.

Less than 24 hours after our rather splendid evening came to an end, Jason reported in that his techfoon is kapot. Allow me to translate. Jason is probably back on his 9% Affligem beer and has fallen off his boat again but this time his i-phone has gone with him. The Dutch eh? You just gotta love 'em.