Lockdown in Spain-Day 22, Epiphanies

I have lately tried to distance myself from anything involving the braying idiot child of president, as it isn’t healthy to let my life to be defined by disgust, hate and anger.  Unfortunately the subject keeps floating to the surface like untreated sewage.  I have spent too many moments checking the BBC or NYT at wake-up hoping to read the (in his own words) “beautiful and great” news that he has died.  BUT, today my attitude ascended to a more sensible and mature level.  I will explain after I put forth these other epiphanies.

The first is laughable, though entirely likely.  We’ve all seen the news that the fool refuses to wear a mask.  trump (lower case is not a typo), in his self-aggrandizing way has described himself as a “wartime president”.  So, if the draft-dodger does fall victim to the virus, he will be able to claim that he was wounded in “the war”.  He would then award himself a Purple Heart and some other medal for bravery, thereby diminishing the honor earned by those who really served this nation.

The second is just as trumpian, though much sadder.  If he were to become infected, he would then be treated by the government thereby “getting his fair share back in return for the taxes he (has allegedly) paid”.  Unfortunately, wasting precious resources on this execrable sociopath would deprive a normal person of an opportunity to be saved.  I would sooner use the resources  to treat a homeless veteran on the streets of New York or a child in a concentration camp for “illegals”.

To end this, which I hope is my final thought devoted to a cause of national shame and misfortune, I will explain my new attitude toward trump, his family and his accomplices.  No longer will I pray for his imminent demise.  I now hope that he and they live a long, long life of ignominy, deprivation and regret.  

My True Colors

Lockdown in Spain-Day 21, Another 14 days for good behavior

Nova Scotia Dory

Taken while exploring, down at the end of a long dirt road.  Have tried to paint it a couple of times, but can't seem to get the mood right.  Now that they have given us a fourteen day extension on the lockdown, I should get into a bleak mood and be able to put it on canvas.

Erpingham, England 2010

I love golden wheat fields and every time I can I stop and capture images.  I've done this from Quebec, Canada to Aroostook County, Maine, Erpingham and Andalusia, Spain.  This rendition has lost some of its brilliance in the posting here, but I'm too tired to go back and re-work it to compensate.  Gotta save some energy for the big Day 22, tomorrow.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 20, An Abstract day?

Brown

Brown is the color of the bottles I buy.  I just realized that today, having bought this particular red for months.  Funny how the little things gain importance as the big things recede into meaninglessness.  Who cares whether trump lives or dies?  The damage he has done will live on after him-kinda like Julius Caesar.  What does it matter if it rains or the skies are blue?  We are limited to these few square meters unless we take out the garbage or go buy groceries.  The change in weather means that every trip might be different, novel...memorable?  Ten thousand people died of the virus today.  So many have died in the last months, it no longer seems a lot.  Nobody I know personally has died, I have not seen bodies in the street, I have not smelled decaying flesh.  It all seems so remote; not that I want it to hit me in the face.  But the wine I drink comes out of brown bottles!  

Vanessa B. told me that IT was getting to me.  It is.  I guess what bothers me most is the inability to move, wander, the loss of freedom of movement.  Confinement in my home is far superior to that in a jail cell.  How would I know?  I spent about sixteen hours in custody of the City and County of Honolulu back in 1965.  I did jail time, in a real cell with a smelly mattress, clammy walls and floor, steel bars and lousy food.  In the cell to my right was a guy who was telling nobody and everybody why and how he killed his wife.  On my left was a fellow who retched and puked all night.  Entertainment.  I knew that I would be arraigned and adjudicated the next morning.  It wasn't as bad as this.  There was an end in sight.  Release or a period of confinement were definite; I could handle either, as long as I knew. 

We have nominally eight more days to go.  I would not bet a dime that the confinement period will not be extended.  Don't get me wrong.  I think it would be necessary and the right thing to do for society, but that doesn't make it any easier.  Who said Limbo wasn't so bad?  

Maybe I should learn to play the guitar...

Lockdown in Spain-Day 19, Rain, Clouds, Rain

Standing Wave on Calle San Vicente Ferrer

So, I had trash and recycling duty last night, my latest foray into the deserted world of Covid.  Quite a bit of water running down the street and I caught this standing wave thrown up by the entrance to our driveway, using the new 23mm lens.  Hated to take it out in the rain, but it would serve no purpose at home staying dry.  If you got it-use it!  That's my new philosophy.  So, I am going to break out the remnants of the case of Juan Gil Tempranillo I bought in Jumilla a few years ago.  I had forgotten about it hidden away in a cooler in the garage until I started moving stuff around to make room for the supplies we have stockpiled in expectation of shortages.  No! we don't have an obscene amount of toilet paper, just two packs.  But, we do have a lot of Hacendado Fabada Asturiana.  That is our favorite, having tried numerous brands, including "gourmet" offerings which cost five times as much.  We did a side-by-side taste test several years ago and were quite surprised.  I have had the dish in an Asturian restaurant in Madrid, one which is highly rated, and still prefer the canned offering from Mercadona.  We plan, whenever this Covid crap is over, to go to Asturias and spend some time exploring the culinary delights.  I would like to be pleasantly surprised, but don't expect it.

Abstract Project #1

As a diversion and a way to fend off frustration with having all this cool equipment and nowhere to go and photograph, I have set myself a project of finding abstract subjects right at home.  This is the first.  G'night...

Lockdown in Spain-Day 18: Two deaths, sixty-five years apart

With death all about; on the tv news constantly, online if one doesn't studiously avoid it, sirens passing by periodically and rarely masked people seen on streets, one death has stood out in eighteen days.  I don't mean to dismiss the thousands of lives torn from gasping bodies or ignore the great or important people the world has lost, nor forget the nobodies who will hardly be missed.  The appalling enormity of the situation seems oddly remote to me having been isolated, for the most part, off a main street, down a private driveway and in a four unit building inhabited by neighbors with whom we won't talk because they are ignorant; others who don't associate with  us because we're foreigners and the last with whom we have nothing in common other than isolation.  It seems that tragedy is becoming the norm, and while I pray that it stays away from me and mine, I don't want to lose what little empathy I have left after my years "on the job". 

Could that be why I was moved so by the discovery of this baby sparrow on our garden table this morning?  We have been feeding the adults for some time now and they have become sort of pets, resting in the lemon or olive trees and using the birdbath I cobbled together. How it got there is a mystery to me.  There are no nests directly above, the closest building being about five meters away, and it could not have jumped or flown there.  Maybe a predator, such as a cowbird which we have in Maine, pulled it from its nest.  Do adult birds ferry their young around as mother cats do with kittens?

The discovery brought back a memory from San Francisco sixty-five years ago.  I was not quite eight, it being spring and just past hatching time.  I was dawdling down Guerrero Street trying to lengthen the walk home after school when I found a lightly feathered  chick, dead, on the sidewalk.  I scratched a grave for it at the base of a tree, fashioned a cross out of a couple of sticks, and probably said some sort of farewell.  The sticks were gone the next time I passed, but the location, from then on, was a sort of shrine to me. 

I buried this chick under the figurine of Ho Tai (Day 11) in the little shrine under my olive tree.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 17: Memories of Maine

View From Meyers Landing, Flagstaff Lake

Flagstaff Lake is my favorite place on earth.  I used to go there a couple of times each year, sometimes for just a night and at others for up to ten days.  On many occasions I would not see another person for the whole time I was tucked away in a remote corner of the lake.  Solitude!

Quiet Morning

It would not be unusual to be canoeing along in a mist and drift up on a moose feeding, or spook a deer or two who were taking a morning drink.  Bear were not seen as frequently, and usually from a good distance, but that didn't mean that there weren't any hiding nearby.  Fishing was fantastic.  I never failed to catch (and release) more fish than would make a good meal.  Although I had been told of a deep salmon "hole" by an old timer who lived there all his life, I never caught one.  I guess I never found the deep hole.  Trout evaded me as well, but Chain Pickerel, the freshwater equivalent of Barracuda, were plentiful.  I've caught them as large as 30 inches and weighing about five pounds; a real handful on light tackle.  I hope to make one last trip there next time I go back to the US, if that ever happens.

Monhegan Mooring

Monhegan is another spot on my favorites list even though I've only been there once.  I had to take a trip there a couple of years ago to see the spot that inspired so many famous artists and perhaps pick up a little inspiration myself.  It didn't let me down and I have lots of "reference" photos to use whenever the urge strikes.

No comment on the lockdown or pandemic.  I'm sick of hearing and reading about it and would rather stick to pleasant topics.  Hasta pronto...

Lockdown in Spain-Day 16: Fujifilm Mission Creep

The stable, pre-Torino

Nick and I had planned a trip to Torino in the Piedmont, northern Italy for some time.  We were going over with our wives and visit our cousin Shelly and her husband Gian Pierro.  The plan was to stay in Torino for a few days then travel by train to Alba and spend a week photographing, wine-sampling, eating and did I mention taking photos?  

After assessing my stock of camera equipment (above), I decided they wouldn't fit the bill.  They would work, but for the type of photography I like to do, they were not suitable.  The Canon G-11 on the left is a great travel camera I bought in 2010, but it does not reach out and "touch them".  I found that the zoom was not up to what I wanted to be able to do on occasion.  

So, around 2015 I bought the Nikon 1V2, a new system introduced by Nikon a couple of years earlier.  With it I bought a zoom lens which suited my needs and was very happy with it...until the zoom croaked in the middle of a trip to Cadiz, Huelva, Caceres and other great cities in Spain.  I did some research and found that the system had been discontinued recently and that the main cause was that Nikon had floated badly engineered and produced lenses to go with the body as a "trial balloon" for another system.  I had used Nikon cameras since the early seventies with absolute confidence and no mechanical problems ever.  With the demise of film photography, I went back to Canon SLRs and sold my trusty film Nikons with sorrow.
Not liking or understanding digital, I gave away the remaining Canon and bought an HP point and shoot which I used until the Spanish Adventure started and I bought the G-11. 
When I started doing long-distance bike touring, the need for an all-weather camera became evident and I bought the Fujifilm Fine Pix XP-50, a water and shock proof camera.  It has served me well on bikes, in kayaks and all sorts of outdoor activities.
Back to the Nikon 1V2.  The body was still fully functional and I really like the camera, so I gave in to a bright idea.  I would buy a normal (50mm) Nikon F-mount lens and using an adaptor ring, mate it to the 1V2.  It would operate only in the manual mode, but I could still use TTL metering.  Once it was set up, the gear worked perfectly...except that I was stuck with about a 90 mm (35mm equivalent) lens.  Good for portrait shots, but little else.
These would not do for the trip to Italy.

Enter the Fujifilm stable

Being a dinosaur, I like the "retro" look in pretty much everything.  I still wear a Burberry raincoat which is pushing forty years.  My favorite luggage is leather and my blue jeans don't have ripped knees.  Therefore, when I saw the Fujifilm X-Pro2 for the first time, I knew I had to own it.  Not only did it look like a rangefinder, but it was a highly respected, mirrorless, almost state-of-the-art "street" camera.  

My downfall was ordering it with the normal lens.  I had misgivings about that from the start, but I wanted to go back to basics and start again.  This was September '19.  By November I had the 18-135 Zoom so I could reach out.  This would halve been fine, but the setup was big, heavy and not inconspicuous; a quality I wanted for street photography.  Enter the X-E3, a "little brother" to the X-Pro2 which could use the same lenses.  I figured that since I had a loose 35mm lens which had come with the X-Pro, I could mount it on the X-E3.  It would do, but was still fairly bulky and not wide enough.  That led me to the 27mm "pancake" lens for the X-E3 to shed some bulk.  That it did, but it still wasn't wide enough, giving me the 35mm equivalent of a 41mm lens-too close to normal.  Finally, I settled for the 23mm or an equivalent to a 35mm in 24x36 format.  Enough, already!  Two new bodies, four lenses, a new tripod (I gave away two when I left the US), new strap system, filters and lens hoods, a manual to explain everything I ever needed to know and a book on LightRoom, a post-processing system similar to Photoshop.  Oh, did I mention the camera bags?  I bought one which was perfect, held everything, protected it all and looked like a camera bag-Duuuuhhhh?  So I bought a leather rucksack for an obscene price and a universal insert to protect the two cameras and one lens.  

Then Covid-19 happened and I'm locked down at home.  All dressed up and nowhere to go...

Lockdown in Spain-Day 15: More on La Corrida

Don't Forget The Horses!

That poor horse can't be having fun.  The picador is only thinking of getting out of the way, the bull is thinking of getting even and the horse is wondering what is going on.  They are padded pretty well, but they are wearing blinders and only react to the riders' commands.  To be bowled over and have a thousand pounds of smelly animal mauling you is not a good time.  Fortunately, the matadors got the bull off, the horse up and away and the spectacle went on, ending badly for the bull.

The Damas Watch

It is interesting to interpret the expressions of the lovely ladies all dressed in in their finery.  From the right; mild approval, obvious concern, disinterest and "Shit! I got aluminum foil on a filling!"  I have quite a lot of photos of the corrida, many technically good, but not great shots.  I should have had the camera on "Sports" to try and get instant photos and preset the exposure and focus manually.  Live and learn...  There are some good documentary shots, gory or pitiful scenes that I don't want to post.  I've done the Hemingway thing, seen a bullfight and must move on.

Nothing memorable about Day 15.  Did a lot of work in LightRoom, post-processing old photos and reliving memories.  

Lockdown in Spain-Day 14: Homegrown and La Estocada

Homegrown No.5

I had been re-growing scallions and mung beansprouts to go in an udon noodle stirfry for lunch when I was delayed by a photo-op.  Having given up on getting interesting photos on the street when I do my nightly trek to the trash bins, I was thrilled to see how the morning light was hitting my scallions.  They were delicious.

Another nondescript day.  Laundry into the machine, fruit for breakfast, run the dishwasher, hang the laundry, do some reading, check email then start prep for lunch.  Take a photo break, continue with lunch, tidy up, play with LightRoom, a sort of Photoshop light.  Take a siesta before a three o'clock talk with Nick about LightRoom and various techniques.  Bring laundry in, watch some YouTube, read the LR manual some more, lift weights, shower, more 'puter time and now at almost nine o'clock start supper.

Estocada

The moment of thrusting for the kill.  While going through old photos, I came across this one I took in September '15 in the small town Piedrabuena.  It was about midway through Spain on my bike ride from Lisbon on the Atlantic to the Mediterranean coast near home.  I had picked the town as it was about 120 kilometers from the last overnight stay and we knew nothing about it.  While rehydrating in a really sketchy bar, I spotted the poster for the fight, took a photo and noticed that the fight was scheduled that day.  I asked the bartender when it was going to happen and he told me, "Right now."

The six of us conferred and having never been to a corrida, decided that we had to see what it was like.

I will probably never attend another, and my companions felt the same.  The pageantry and color was spectacular, the photos turned out pretty well despite having been taken from the stands.  BUT, and that's a big "but", I was really turned off by the cruelty of the event.  That is about all the condemnation I can muster.  It is a part of Spanish culture, though the practice seems to be on the ropes as many regions have banned it.  It is not my place to condemn or approve, but I will tell you that I did root for the bulls to win at least one fight.   

Lockdown in Spain-Day 13: The Climb

The Climb

Today's highlight was the arrival of a 23mm wide angle lens for the cameras.  It was to have completed the battery of lenses for the Torino trip, but we know how that went.  Gave me something to play with and wish for more vistas.  Here's my stairway without the four steps below the newell post.  I haven't done any research yet to find my next goal, and am not eager to find it. Legs are still sore from the 102 times I went up and down.

Calle San Miguel , deserted in active rain

The photo isn't deserted.  One can barely see a figure on the first floor balcony on the right.  One car went by during my walk to the trash bins and I saw a dog walker on the main street a long way away.  

Lockdown in Spain-Day 12: I'd rather be in Kelowna

I'd rather take my chances walking with bears and Cougars than Covid-19.  This shot was taken in Kelowna, BC, way back around 2005.  The next shot was taken while standing outside our local pharmacy, waiting for one of the two customers allowed inside to finish.  Once I got in, the pharmacist who was helping me turned her attention to her colleague to explain something.  Since there was another customer three meters away, I was holding my breath as much as possible to avoid possible contamination.  I almost passed out.

This is the official warning about keeping a social distance, and the prohibition of group activities, blah, blah, blah.  This evening, a police car made the rounds, bleeping its siren and announcing that between 0600 and 0800 we should all stay inside with windows, shutters and doors shut as there was going to be a fumigation.   I hope it doesn't kill bees and wasps.  I need them to pollinate my lemons and olives.

Here is a shot looking up and out of our air shafr.  I never really appreciated it until today.  A different view is a good thing.

The only other memorable event of the day is that I climbed 101 flights of stairs (17 steps) to summit the Eiffel tower.  That equals about 2.44 km counting the descent as well.  In real terms it equates to two scotches on lots of rocks.  Salud!

Lockdown in Spain-Day 11: Ho Tai

I'm going to start out with a link gleaned from my cousin Shelly's blog http://abroadabroadnews.blogspot.com/ She is locked down close to Turin in the Piemonte region where Nick, Susan, Is and I were scheduled to go on 16 April.  That ain't happening this year.  Anyway, it's a very stirring video taken by drone of a neighborhood in Turin where the neighbors gather at 6:00pm nightly to sing the national anthem.
https://video.lastampa.it/torino/a-torino-un-intero-quartiere-canta-all-unisono-l-inno-d-italia-dal-balcone-il-flash-mob-visto-dal-drone-e-da-pelle-d-oca/111862/111870  .

Ho Tai in his garden of tranquility

Ho Tai is a many flavored Buddha.  When I was growing up in the Philippines my mother kept a small ceramic statue of a buddha perched on a kitchen window, usually over the sink.  The pot-bellied,  mustard colored deity had a beaming smile and his right (I think) hand cupped behind his ear.  Mom told me that he was the "Kitchen Buddha" and the tradition was that each year the housewife would buy an effigy and throughout the year tell their troubles to it.  On the new year, they would dash the figurine to pieces and their woes would be gone.  She probably told Ho Tai a lot, but she never smashed him.  I don't know what became of the statue, and have searched many stores over the years to find a similar one, to no avail.  About five years ago, Is found one in a store here on the Costa Blanca, gave it to me for Christmas and he's occupied a place of honor since.

Here he is in all his splendor.  I looked him up and could not find the same legend, other than that he could be a recipient of one's woes.  The other legends state that he was actually a perpetually smiling man, about a thousand years ago, who went about carrying a sack with gifts for children and rice to plant.  He was supposed to bring good fortune, luck and wealth, and is compared to the western Santa Claus.

Ho Tai sits beneath our olive tree, with his reflecting pool and a painted pigeon which will likely be the subject of another page.  The two flags are a little touch of America in this home away.

Whatever the case, I'm glad to provide a place for him in our garden as he reminds me of Mom and may occasionally dispose of a gripe for me.

Lockdown in Spain-Day 10: Empty Streets

The New Normal

This was taken last night during my walk to the recycling bins.  Calle San Miguel looks like this even when it's not raining, even during the day...deserted.  I'm quickly running out of scenes in my limited radius of "necessary" walkabouts.  

Today Is was supposed to go out for groceries, and the plan was to be there when the place opens at 0900 so as to have full(er) shelves.  I awoke at 0700 and as it was raining and I think I'm healthier than she is, I decided to go.  Not altogether altruistic, though as I thought that there might be some interesting photos of people queueing outside in the heavy rain with umbrellas.  Got there at ten past and found the doors had just opened and a crowd of people was packed into the shelter of the doorway.  Social distancing abandoned in rain.  I dawdled in the parking lot, swabbing my shopping cart with alcohol and waiting for a photo.  No such luck, the empty store gobbled up the queue and the only umbrella in sight was mine.  To console myself, I bought the last bottle of DYC Single Malt on the shelf.  Maybe I'll find some images in there...

Lockdown in Spain-Day 9: A Quiet Spanish Bar

"Darkness has a hunger that's insatiable, and lightness has a call that's hard to hear." (The Indigo Girls), one of my favorite song lines...

It's not that I'm afraid of death, I think that I'm a little afraid of life in the world after...

Gotta take a break from this.  Tomorrow...

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...

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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!

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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!

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Deep In Thought

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Denia Teens

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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.