Lockdown in Spain-Day 8: Today the gift of a lemon

Today they gave us a lemon...

And I'm trying to make lemonade.  President Sanchez extended the period of alarm another fifteen days, but has to get it approved by the Cortes.  It is likely a done deal, as it seems like the right move.  Before that news, I was down in the dumps already, having realized what a mess we would leave if we both succumbed to the virus.  We need to start on a plan to ease the burden on our heirs, to pass the properties on and generally tidy up ahead of time.  Now that's a cheerful thought.  I expressed the dismay on Facebook, and received a lot of feedback from friends and family.  It ranged to a very inspiring message from Debra Bickford, a former art teacher to a funny request from Dave Gartside that he be able to inherit my bikes.  I'll only leave him the Iron Hoss, as he has a Pinarello for the road rides, and doesn't need to be burdened with more.  

Then I heard from cousin Maurice in Manila that he (and other senior citizens) are being directed to stay home-period.  At least I can go out for groceries once in a while.  Later on, I thought of paraplegics, the blind and other handicapped individuals who might never go out, even in normal times.  That slapped me in the face and eliminated self pity.  

So, in order to compensate for the absence of cycling and walking, I set myself a goal with stair-climbing.  I found that the Statue of Liberty had been summited days ago and focused on the Washington Monument.  Half that height had already been done so after climbing fourteen more flights, I added that feather to my hat.  Next goal is the Eiffel tower which is going to be a long day of climbing - 101 flights to surpass (1717 steps).  I probably ought to pack a lunch.

Wish I could go here for lunch.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 7: Olive buds and roadblocks

It's been a week now.  The olive tree is budding, the wasps are back in the citrus orchards and the Guardia Civil were out enforcing the lockdown.  

I drove to Ciudad Quesada today to pick up the contact lenses I'd ordered before the lock-down.  Had a bit of apprehension as I was not on a purely "medical necessity" trip, but then I would be in pretty poor shape when the current pair needs to be tossed.  Of course I have glasses, but they don't know that.  Anyway, I saw one cruiser on the way there, and on the way back, I took a different route, just to see some different country.  I came upon a roadblock, but ever-ready camera wasn't.  Besides, I might have drawn unwanted attention had I driven by with the camera to my face.  The route circled back behind the stop, and I grabbed a shot.  The SUV had been stopped, probably for being out and towing an inflatable pleasure boat.  I still can't imagine a plausible excuse, but he must have tried one.  The officer at the rear of the cruiser looks as though he is writing.

Anyway, it's raining steadily and I'm glad that the olive flowers aren't open yet.  Last year a cold rain when they were open killed the crop.  You may have seen my post of the single olive I harvested.  The wasps have arrived from wherever, and just after I passed the traffic stop, I was into the citrus groves and clouds of the black beasts were all over.  I'm glad.  In the abwsence of bees, they might be able to help in pollination.  Otherwise, the crops are screwed.

Since the lockdown started, I've climbed 209 flights of stairs in a two story house.  That's 3553 steps up, not counting the numerous times I've gone into and out of the garage, garden and front door, all a climb of four steps.  That's all the exercise beside the iron I've been pumping.  Was actually tempted to take the bike to pick up my contacts, but I figured that would draw more attention than a nondescript driver in a plain old car.  See below for photo of happy Nondescript Driver:

Hasta mañana!

Lockdown in Spain-Day 6: Don't cough in the queue

This is the "Bread Line" outside our closest supermarket.  It stretched around the corner to the right by the time I parked , got my cart and wiped it down.  We were let in, one at a time, directed to the hand cleaning station with fluid and towels then allowed to enter the store, being held if a successful shopper wanted to exit the same door.  Once inside, everyone kept their distance, mostly, and it was eerily quiet; no chatter, no music, no announcements.  Our favorite shift leader Anna, who is always cheerful and smiling, did so from behind her mask.  I could tell by the crinkle which appeared at the corners of her eyes.

This is a lines-end view of the queue.  Note the proctor in the safety vest patrolling the pedestrian lane.  I was in the line fewer than fifteen minutes.  Inside presented a few bare sections and others untouched.  I got the last broccoli head, the last bag of Brussels sprouts and topped up the wine and cider supply.  Gotta cover the important things.  Got hell when I got home for not remembering peanuts.   The lot was near capacity with a lot of expats stocking up for the weekend.  I guess they wanted a leisurely weekend, at home, locked down, staring out the window...

My lemon tree has been blooming for a few days, and we haven't reached the end of last seasons bounty.  We still have about twenty ripe ones and quite a few in various stages of green.  The smaller orange fruit are kumquats on Is' tree.  They are calamondin or as we called them in the Philippines, kalamansi. 

The leaking heat pipe will stay that way for a while.  I called the repairman who lives quite a distance north and he couldn't give me a date.  He is trying to sort out some sort of permit to be out on the road for service calls.  Apparently one of his associates was stopped at a roadblock and was about to be issued a €600 fine, but managed to get a copy of a work order sent to him by his office.  He was allowed to continue his run.  

Kitchen timer sounding, gotta go work on tomorrow's lamb stew...

Lockdown in Spain-Day 5

This is part of the pile of new photo gear and information which were acquired in anticipation of the April trip to Torino and Alba in the Piemonte region of Italy.  There is another lens in a new bag, a rather expensive tripod in a closet and a wide angle which is yet to be delivered.  I'm still studying the manuals and learning the workings of the two cameras in the hope that I will be able to use them soon.  I've given up on finding interesting photos in my limited area of movement, but that is probably a failure on my part.  They are there, I just can't see them.  I ordered the wide angle today.  You may ask "Why"?  I guess it was a reinforcement of the hope that I will be alive by the latest delivery date of 23 May, or that if I am, I'll be able to walk the streets and use it.

Being locked down isn't so bad if one thinks in terms of "tomorrow".  I feel fine today.  I went out tonight and tossed the rubbish, waved at a fellow walking his dog and re-entered my refuge.  Isabel and I have written down our menu and grocery list for next week, and that means we expect to be having barbecued ribs next Sunday.  But after that is a big void; stretching all the way to the 23rd of May which is the last date on which I might receive the new lens.  In terms of the virus, and being told to sequester ourselves within four walls, that seems to be an eternity. 

We still have active tickets on the flight to Torino on 20 April.  I still have not heard that my 30 May flight from Madrid to Boston has been cancelled.  The US has recommended that all citizens return home or risk being stranded abroad.  My home IS abroad.  Does that mean that if I want to fly to Boston in May, providing Iberia is allowed to launch the flight, I might not be allowed to?  And if Iberia can't fly to the US because the border is closed, what happens to the money I paid for my ticket? 

It's only Day 5.  Thinking positive has started becoming harder. 

Lockdown in Spain-Day 4

Sentinels, Javea

*******

Today's greatly anticipated visit to the mercadillo (itinerant market) turned out to be a short walk through essentially deserted streets.  No fresh vegetables, olives or nuts until one of us drives to Mercadona, across the river.  There were some folks near the smoke shop, and five including me queued up at the pharmacy.  Most people seem to be obeying the restrictions, but I did see one old codger who extended his dog walk significantly past the stated limits.  Some here are wearing masks and gloves, but most just keep the two-meter distance.

Contemplating...

*******

This shot was taken in a small pueblo called Jesus Pobre inland from Javea which is about an hour and a half up the coast.  Manuel and Cam bought some land here a long time ago, an old run-down finca, with an eye to retirement.  That didn't materialize and they eventually sold it and invested the proceeds in a trust fund for the Gang Of Five.  Nick has the deed with the details, but considering the period and the confusing way in which legal documents are written, I don't think we'll ever know the exact location.  It is probably buried under an urbanization anyway.  

Jesus Pobre is a pretty town of about 800 residents and could well have been the model for the unnamed town in the book Spanish Lessons (Beginning a new life in Spain), by Derek Lambert.  He was a British journalist who became a prolific novelist starting about the time he and his Canadian wife bought a house in the area.  

The Redcoats Are Coming!

*******

And finally, here's a shot of my stair-climbing log.  35  flights yesterday, nine to go tonight to surpass.  I've gotta find out how many flights in the Statue of Liberty and set that as a goal.  I hope this DOESN'T go 18 months as some have predicted.  

Lockdown in Spain-Day 3

Denia Fishermen

I decided to add "in Spain" to the post title, as I think that there will be many more locations added to the list before this is over.  Today was a repeat of yesterday except that it rained, it was cleaning day and I got to go out to toss the rubbish.  A highlight of that was that I got to say hello to the lady who lives across the street.  Spent some time editing and culling photos, read some, did some internet banking.  Thank God we have the internet!
The construction prep continues at the new health center; trucks bringing in dark-colored soil which looks like topsoil.  I don't know why it would be, as nobody would plant grass in this area.  Even the artificial stuff bleaches and looks like dead grass.  All this seen through the sliver of The Rest Of The World, as seen between the two buildings which face my studio window.

There have been hints that the lockdown might last longer than the initial 14-day period.  Maybe the health center will be operational by the end of sequestration and we'll be able to crawl the short distance to it.  Tomorrow I get to walk to the itinerant market for fresh vegetables, olives and frutas secos (nuts), I hope.  We are only allowed to walk, singly, to the food store, medical facilities, pharmacy and ironically the smoke shop and hair-dresser.  Now the latter two really make a lot of sense to me!

*******

Deep In Thought

*******

Denia Teens

*******

I hope tomorrow's walkabout proves to be fruitful, as I plan to take a camera along to the market and record any differences caused by the lockdown.  

Lockdown in Spain- Day 2

This is not a local scene.  It's not a pretty picture as previously mentioned I intended to post. It wasn't even taken during this century.  This image of "Tokyo Beggar" is, to me, the best and most meaningful photo I've ever taken. To this day I still regret taking it.

It was shot with my first 35mm camera, an Aires rangefinder with one of those glass-bubble light meters stuck on the front and a fixed "normal" lens.  I used Kodak Tri-X, and it was most likely the first roll of film loaded, as I had just bought the camera that morning. 

My father had suggested that I use black and white to judge how well I did before trying more expensive color film.  I must have thought I'd done okay as there resulted many colored photos of cherry trees in full bloom, the Buddha at Kamakura and the imperial palace in its impressive park.
Manuel, Camilla, Nick and I were on a round-the-world trip subsequent to Nick's high school graduation.  This trip was my introduction to photography in general and "street" photography in particular.

Robert Capa, David Duncan Douglas, Ernest Hemingway and Ernie Pyle have long been my career heroes, though I never followed them for one reason or the other.  I did change my major to Journalism from Tropical Agriculture and seriously considered re-enlisting in the Army for the MOS
(Military Occupation Specialty) of Combat Photographer.  The responsibility of being a newly-wed and not wanting my bride to be "dependent" as enlisted men's families were called led me to other paths.  '68 was not a good year to be in the Army, anyway.

As I walked down that Tokyo street in 1961 I saw the man and his dog and knew that I wanted the image.  I walked close to the store window in front of him and stopped, pretending to look at merchandise, meanwhile setting the camera to what I hoped would be the proper exposure.  I watched his reflection in the window, waiting for a moment when he was looking away and would not see me take the shot.  He looked to one side and I turned, camera to my eye, and found him looking at me.  I'll never forget the look in his eyes; shame, sorrow, embarrassment.  I'll never be sure.  I tripped the shutter when he bowed to hide his face.

I wish I had never been seen, that I had placed some money in his bowl, that I could have spoken an apology and that he has forgiven me.  That moment has haunted me since.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 1

On Friday, the day before the lockdown order was announced, I walked up the hill in town to try and get some sunset shots of Callosa de Segura, the mountain with the most character in our immediate area of the Vega Baja.

Now, for the next two weeks, I won't be able to see it or go for a walk unless I go out to buy groceries or seek medical care.  That may be a ticket to a paseo, as a couple of hours before I took those photos, I'd had a bike crash and acquired a good case of road rash.  Doctored myself, but if I develop an infection, I'd get a chance to walk to the health center.  There's a silver lining to every cloud.

As far as today goes, I got a couple of long-put-off chores done.  The first was to put a bandaid on one of the heating pipes whose leak I discovered a couple of weeks ago.  The repairman said he would try to make it down "next week", but that was before lockdown.  So I jury-rigged a method of keeping water off the floor and measuring the flow so I could know when to replace the loss.

                                                                              

 

To compensate for the elimination of cycling and walking, I decided to start pumping iron again, so I set up the weight bench which has been unused for about eighteen months.  I also decided to climb the stairs in multiples, so instead of one flight, I go back down and do two more.  Every journey starts with the first step.  More tomorrow...

It's only been about five years...

Yeah, the last post was during the summer of '15, and a whole lot has happened since then.  If you've been in touch on Facebook, email, What'sApp or live near Algorfa, you don't need an update.  If you haven't been in touch, then never mind, you probably won't be interested.  I've resurrected the Ramble to keep folks apprised of life in small-town Spain as we try to weather the  Covid-19 pandemic.  Cousin Shelly has a very interesting blog and is providing a view on developments in Italy.  You ought to check out: http://abroadabroadnews.blogspot.com/.

As for us on the Costa Blanca and the rest of Spain, we're in "partial" lockdown.  This means we are supposed to stay sequestered in our homes except for travel to buy food or essentials.  That must include beer and wine!  Those who cannot work from home are allowed to go to work.  That eliminates cycling, walking and wandering around with a camera; local travel.  Medium and long distance trains are restricted and airlines don't have anywhere to go-if they are flying.  It is beginning to look as though my May 30 trip to the US is not likely to happen.  I wasn't looking forward to a colonoscopy, anyway.

Here's a shot of a priest in Orihuela feeding pigeons an extra ration because the bars are closed and they can't get their normal food. 

May and June '15

Can't remember back before the end of May.  Not that it matters, because most of you who were regulars have probably given up looking for a new edition.  Anyway, Is and I went to the feria at Cordoba.  It is another of the great cities to which we will return for a less hectic visit.  That reminds me that we celebrated our fourth anniversary in Lorca, another fine city.

Right after returning from Cordoba, I jumped on a plane and headed to Belfast, Northern Ireland.  I was hosted by Gerry and Angela Kearney who guided me, lent me a very nice bike and wined/dined me at various times during the next fifteen days.  Gerry and I headed off to Scotland by ferry to meet David Gartside  for a cycle tour of several Scottish islands of the Inner Hebrides.  The tour was punctuated by shredded elbow, broken ribs, broken teeth, cancelled ferry, gale winds, rain , good single malt, memorable food and generally a great experience.  I was rewarded with many spectacular views and a lot of inspiration which , I hope, will result in some pleasing paintings.

After Scotland, Gerry and I did some cycling around Belfast, Dublin, and the western coast leading to Galway.  More inspiration, great times and no accidents.

Back in Spain on the 12th, I am putting some ideas on paper, trying to transition from acrylics back to watercolours, and cycling in dry weather.  We're also packing and planning for our annual trip to Maine and the MS Ride.  (Donations gratefully accepted at:  http://main.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR/Bike/MAMBikeEvents?px=3818121&pg=personal&fr_id=24826  )

Am looking forward to Trans-Iberia '15, the cycle trip from Lisbon across the peninsula to the Mediterranean coast where we live.  More on that later, I hope

November Already!?!?!?

Just realized that Summer is over.  Actually, I missed the start of Summer, since my last post was the 24th of May but, then, it's summer here most of the year.  So what's been going on since then?



There was the trip to the Bacolod for my 50th High School reunion.  A whirlwind trip of eight days, three of which were spent in airports, in the air or on trains.  Had a great time catching up with classmates, most of whom I hadn't seen for fifty years.  How they got old, I don't know.  We ate too much, drank too much and stayed up way too late, but it was a worthwhile trip.

Then it was off to Maine for the MS Society bike ride and all-too-short visits with the family and friends.  Having sold my car and motorcycle, I had to cycle from home to home, which was fun and kept me in good shape.  My only complaint was about a ruined wheel caused by hitting a pot hole during a thunderstorm in Augusta.  I was enjoying the downhill rush in whitewater until the impact. Didn't get up to Oakland or the County to visit friends, as I didn't have the time to cycle there.  My stay was only 28 days long, but couch-surfing from Bruce and Sylvia's to Nick's and Shan's and Dyl's took up most of the trip.

Ten days after my return, Is and I took a bus trip to Viella in the Pyrennes, spending six days in the cool mountains, winding up and down hills that would daunt most cyclists, but are actually a big draw for those looking for a challenge.  One side trip was to Luchon, in France, which was the site of one of this year's Tour de France.

There were at least three bike tours to Puerto Mazzaron, Sierra de Espuña and La Colonia de Santa Eulalia, all involving many kilometers, much good food and moderate quantities of beer and wine. They all helped push my total toward my goal of 12,000 km for the year.  Sounds like a lot, but one of our group, Tom Tychesen from Norway, set a world record for the month of July by cycling 6276.6 Kilometers-more than half what I will do for the year.

October brought the olive harvest and a couple of batches.  My tree produced only five, but they will be ready for eating in eleven days, and I will do so with gusto.  I have since found out that, though olive trees self-pollinate, they produce much more when they cross-polinate.  I see another tree in my future.  The second batch was harvested from public trees (with permission from the ayuntamiento or town hall) and will be ready 12 December, all 298 of them.  If the experiment is a success, we will do many more next fall.





We had a two week exhibition at the town library, started Spanish classes again, joined a drawing class, a T'ai Chi group (the latter two done individually) and went to Madrid for a couple of days to renew Is' Philippine passport and meet old friends.  Naturally we visited our favorite restaurants and caught a couple of art exhibits.

And that brings me up to date.

May 24 Update

When I opened up the bog to do this update, I found that I hadn't finished the post about our exhibition.  It's now done and can be seen right after this.

Toward the end of April, I took three days off from the exhibition, leaving Is to man the fort while I led a four-man bicycle assault on the Sierra de Espuña in the Region of Murcia, about 90 km. away.  The peak is 1585 meters up, just 21 fewer than Mt. Katahdin.  Unfortunately, I could not get to the peak; being a law-abiding person, I stopped at the big sign forbidding further trespass.  The armed military guards didn't scare me.  The thought of having my bike confiscated and walking back to the hotel did.  It had taken me two and a half hours to grind my way to the top, from the hotel.  The exhilarating descent only took me 56 minutes.  I could have done it faster, but being alone, I used caution as there was nobody to pick up the pieces.

After a celebratory pint, Dave and I headed north toward Cieza through some really beautiful country with vineyards, almond and citrus orchards as well as wild , mountainous vistas.  Below is a shot of Dave doing a long climb out of the Mula River Valley.  On the far mountain range in the background you can see the peak of Espuña just to the left  of Dave.  

We reached Cieza, had a couple of re-hydration beers and found a good hotel right in the centre of town.  After a much-needed shower and a short siesta, we headed for a recommended restaurant; only to find it closed.  Either it was closed on Mondays or we were too early for dinner (at 8:30 pm?!?).  After asking a helpful shopkeeper, we dined at his favorite eatery, washing the fare down with a very good house wine called  Ribera del Segura.  We are only one province away and the Segura runs right past us here, but I can't find the wine here.  Good excuse to go back.  The next day we headed home through the Ricote Valley which, in itself, is worth a few days exploring.  Knackered, we arrived home in the early evening, saddle-sore and very thirsty.  Medicinal re-hydration was necessary.

After the exhibition closed, we started packing and getting ready to meet Nick & Susan in Bilbao.  We headed to Madrid a day before, so that Is could go to the American embassy and secure a visa.  The train ride to Bilbao was a change, as we were heading away from the dry, semi-arid centre of Spain, into the lush Northwest.  It was good to see green mountains and hills again, but I dreaded the thought of continuous rain which friends had encountered the week before.  Luck was with us-the weather was fine.

As is proper, we ate too much and forced ourselves to walk it off...while searching for another good restaurant.  The food, as expected, was fine, quite different than that we find on the Costa Blanca and the local wines were all good, of course.

And then, on Friday, the 9th we headed back to Madrid to continue our "Moveable Feast" double birthday celebration.  We had more excellent meals, meeting Cely Teves and Ching and Pipe for a couple of them.  Ching, or Frances Luzuriaga lived across the street from Nick and me in Victorias, Negros Occidental when we were teenagers.  I hadn't seen Ching in 49 years.  

"Stop!!!" warned Don Quixote, "You'll crack your carbon bike frame.  Basta!  No more overeating."  So we went shopping, finding all sorts of not-really-so-necessary souvenirs with which to stuff our already-stretched luggage.  On the 12th, we hopped the train again for home.  The celebration continued with more fine, but less expensive meals cooked mostly at home; paella, steamed dorada, bbq'ed chicken and grilled mackerel. If it weren't for the cycling, I'd weigh 200 kilos.

Hasta Pronto... 

Dispatch from Cuevas del Rodeo

We opened our joint exhibit at the Cuevas Del Rodeo in Rojales on 6 April.  The weather was perfect, clear, bright and not too hot.

Vanessa, a resident artist who works in the cave next door enjoys a glass of "tinto" while checking out my Sagrada Familia  tryptich.  A fellow from Germany later stood in front of it for fifteen minutes.  No cigar, though.

Is taking a lunch break on the day before setup.  All-in-all, we had a fun, successful experience.  We sold four paintings and three prints of Banago River #7, plus many reproductions of various paintings, imbeded in souvenir gadgets such as key fobs, bottle openers, coasters and T-shirts.  We had at least 384 visitors, having lost count during the opening.

Still not used to flowers in Winter

Bloomin' Poppies

Summer here is pretty much devoid of flowers, and in many places, green.  Right now, the jade plants have loads of white flowers, the lemons and oranges are being harvested, the pansies bloom daily and everything is a different shade of green.  It's still winter.
A couple of days ago I was cycling in shorts and a summer jersey, sweating like mad.  Today was sweater-cool, but sunny.  At least it's clear.
In anticipation of our upcoming trip to Galicia, on the northeast corner of the peninsula, I checked their weather.  It was dismaying to see that two weeks of rain were expected with a couple of "partly sunny" days.  Oh, well, we're looking forward to different cuisine, scenery and a new dialect to try and fathom.

The mountain I cycled up yesterday

At least it felt that way when I got home.  I am finally over the cold and misery that Is brought back from the UK before Christmas, and yesterday decided to go out and play with the fast boys.  92 kilometers and much heavy breathing later,  I limped back to Algorfa alone.  I slowly drifted off the rear of the peloton somewhere near Orihuela and watched as they disappeared at a enviable clip.  I guess my hill training needs to be increased.

Tonight is the annual Burns by Bike dinner to celebrate Robert Burns.  It's presented by a contingent of Scots who ride and train with us.  I was planning to go on my Pub bike, but was convinced that it was not advisable to cycle the back roads on Saturday night-especially after quaffing a wee bit of the "Old Country". I'm tempted, despite warnings, to try the haggis.

Been working on a number of painting and collages and have a lot more lurking in the deep, dark recesses of my mind.  Reminds me of someone who used to ask me if I found that thought "in there", pointing at my head.  Why, yes, I did!

Silent Night (or Shut Up About How Your God Is Better Than Mine And Practice Peace)

                                           Silent Night

It was my job to do this year's Christmas cards and for all of November I wracked my brain to find something that didn't show a fat guy dressed in red or a reindeer with an alkie's nose or something dripping religious treacle.  Yeah, yeah, I know what Christmas celebrates, but given the state of the world and all the intolerance and hatred spawned by religion, I'm not in a particularly religion-friendly mood.

Anyway the card features a painting partly inspired by a midnight walk I took in my forest on Gelot (Ringdahl) Hill in New Sweden.  The air was bitterly cold, but still and every star was visible.  It was so bright in the woods that I could read by starlight.  The only sound I could hear was the snow compressing under my snowshoes, and my labored breathing.  Now that was peaceful. God was there-I know, because nothing else could have made a night so beautiful.

Peace to you all!

Overnight tour to Lorca

Last weekend seven of us took off in rather chilly and windy weather for the city of Lorca in the province of Murcia.  It was a relatively flat ride under blue skies, skirting the Sierra de Espuna and its accompanying range.

Lunch break in a sunlit square, out of the wind could only be improved upon by having a beer and a Murciano, or pastel de carne.  On the way back we stopped in Murcia at Zaher, a bakery/bar which I'm told was the originator of the meat-filled pastry.  The other six had never had the delicacy and were very pleased with it.

With time to kill before we could check in at the hotel, we explored the city center, climbing the hill to the castle and the cathedral which was damaged by the 2010 earthquake.  All around the area were many ancient buildings shored up with and reinforced by steel girders.  It's a beautiful area, nevertheless.

And then there was dinner with the accompanying delicious house wine.  We started with calamari, patatas brava, jamon serrano y juevos and gambas al ajillo and never made it to the main course; having filled up on lots of accompanying bread and at least eight bottles of red.  What a feast!

And then Petter realized we had to get on the bikes in a few hours.

And so we raced home on Sunday

11/11/13 Update

It's been almost a month since we got back to Algorfa, and it's been BUSY.  Two days after landing, we were off to Valencia to attend a competition by the three regional champion bands at the Palau des Artes Reina Sophia.  Our friend Roberto Teruel plays saxophone for the Albatera band who came out on

top in our province of Alicante.  The concert pitted the best bands from Castellon, Alicante and Valencia.  Our local band won, so the next step is the nationals in Madrid.  Anyway, we had a fun trip and got to listen to some great music in an iconic concert hall.  I can't decide whether it looks like a space ship or a fish.

 A couple of days after the concert we picked up the keys to the new house and started moving in.  This, after packing up, storing  and shipping a ton of stuff in Westbrook.
 So last Friday we're in the new place, having a housewarming for 24 guests and I'm sitting down for a break and  a bite when the doorbell rings.  It turns out that the shipment of stuff from Westbrook, which I'd been told would arrive on Monday, is here-all twenty two boxes and a table.  It's all unpacked, put away and we're into cleaning and shining up the old place so it can be photographed and put on the market next week. In the meantime, I've got to do my cycling, do some more paintings for the exhibition in April and get into some of the relaxation and chilling I've been bragging about.  More about that when it happens.  Saludos!

Farewell to Maine

This is a view from the deck at Howieland on Sebec Lake.  Some of you have been there, most probably wish they have.  Bones and I went up for what I expect will be my last hunting trip, as I've decided to close that chapter.  Many war stories were re-hashed, much beer processed and I took a few cholesterol bullets in the gut, courtesy of Simone's delicious sausage gravy over biscuits.  I've been trying to figure out how I can get it through the mail...

One shot, one kill and one barrel to clean.  It was delicious smothered in sour cream, toasted garlic and smoked paprika.

I can only think of one other spot in Maine where I've had more fun times and nicer views, but didn't have time to go there this trip.  That would be Flagstaff Lake, and I will return next year, or the year after.  Who knows?  There are big fish there.

After a brief visit and , as usual a fine meal with Doug and Rita in New Sweden, I spent the night in my tent on my land which went up for sale a couple of days later.  Kind of a nostalgic visit, as I love the place, especially the campsite I had the loggers leave untouched.  The rest of the land bears logging scars, but in the long run will be a healthier stand of woods and will support more wildlife.  After a cool night (I forgot to close the flap) and a mild rain, I bid adieu to all the memories and fine times and headed south.

I won't regale you with the details of the last week other than it entailed packing, shipping, lifting, cleaning and emptying the flat for the tenants who move in 1 Nov.  Bruce and Sylvia came over to lift a few one night and we were fortunate to still have a couch and a couple of chairs.  Adios, Westbrook.

The trip back to Algorfa was successful.  We didn't land in the Atlantic or Petrograd and only missed one connection, the last, in Murcia.  It afforded me the opportunity to re-acquaint myself with Spanish beer from the tap.  Vanessa and Richard met us at Callosa and chauffeured us home, while his "welcome home" slithered down my throat to re-acquaint me with canned Spanish beer.  Can't decide which is better, so I need to head for the cafe and investigate further.  It's good to be home, and resting for the next move-to the new home, but more on that later.