Things I observed whilst holidaying in Portugal

1. A lack of personal privacy in the bathroom 

Quite simply, personal privacy in the bathroom does not seem to be an issue.

In our first accommodation, the bedroom and bathroom were fairly open plan.  There was no door.  There was no door between the bedroom and living area either, but there was a screen.  There wasn't even a screen between the bathroom and bedroom.  Now, this was a very old cottage, so we thought that perhaps the modernisations had been sensitive to tradition and perhaps doors were too modern.

However, on several visits to public facilities I noticed that there were no locks on the doors.  At least there were doors.

In our second accommodation we encountered a similar layout, there was no door between the bathroom and the bedroom.  This time there was a screen, but it was fairly feeble (even though the frame was metal).  And when I tried to use it, it tumbled onto the bed.  Luckily neither Mr H or Little Miss H were on that part of the bed at the time.

2. There were so few young people around

Whilst in Portugal we stayed predominantly in rural areas.  One morning I decided to go for a walk before breakfast - there were lots of pretty spring flowers around so I thought I'd try to get some photos.

Whilst on the walk, I was having a bit of a nosey over walls into some of the other quintas (small farms) round about.  There was nobody else around.  After living in the Philippines for 18 months this really struck me.  There were always people around in the Philippines, no matter what time of day you were wandering around.  And generally there were always lots of young people.

In Portugal we saw very few young people.  Is this because the young people have moved away to the cities (or to other countries) to find work?  Or is it just because it is an old population?  Is it because the Philippines is a developing country with a typically young population?  Whatever the reason, it did just surprise me. 

Ronda we all look the same

When we lived in Manila we would get out of the city at least once every 6 weeks, sometimes more often.  Since we've moved to Andalucia we haven't really ventured very far from home at all.  Living in Manila could be quite stifling at times - the heat, the traffic, the pollution, the noise - meaning that a periodic escape was all but necessary to recharge.  Living where we do in Andalucia doesn't create that same necessity to escape for a recharge.  We are very lucky.  But sometimes it's nice to explore your surrounding area regardless.

This past weekend, that's what we decided to do.

The weather on Sunday was beautiful - not a cloud in the sky, with temperatures nudging 20 degrees celcius near the coast.  Inland and at a higher altitude the temperatures were closer to 10 degrees, but the skies were still clear.

The journey to Ronda, via the A357 past Cartama, took just over an hour and a half.  We approached Ronda from the 'new' side, but by following signs to 'Centro urbano' we crossed the famous bridge (Puente Nuevo) and entered the old town.  After a few tight squeezes down narrow streets we found some parking bang in the middle of the old town (near Plaza Duquesa de Parcent).

Our first stop, as is often the case with a little person (she only has a little tummy so needs to eat often to keep fueled up), was a cafe on Plaza Duquesa de Parcent.  The setting was lovely, the cafe standard.

We then wandered around the old town, aiming towards the famous bridge.  Our walk took us down pretty little paved streets (a bumpy ride for the little person in her pram) with great views over the Andalucian landscape whenever we popped out of the built up area.  A fun walk.  With lots of photo opportunities, especially of doors.  More of our photos are on my Flickr page.

We discovered that the bridge is best seen from below; there are very few good vantage points in the town.  We saw a few people walking down the rather steep track to the better vantage point, but we decided to drive.  The road, if you can call it that, was very narrow and steep and looked like it had been built a long time ago.  Still, we managed to get down and more impressively we managed to get back up as well.

All in all a lovely day out.

We drove back a different way - on the A397 towards Estepona and then onto the A7 back to Arroyo de la Miel.  It took roughly the same amount of time as our journey to Ronda but was a bit more of a windy road.

2014

I'm a bit behind, but here is a visual snapshot of our 2014.

Lost in translation

Mr H & I are both trying to learn Spanish.  We are doing it quite differently.  I am using Duolingo and I am having weekly Spanish lessons.  Mr H is using another website (I clearly don't pay enough attention when he speaks to me, because I can't remember which one) and Google Translate.  He uses Google Translate to learn phrases whenever he needs to do something e.g. explain how he wants his hair cut, or change physiotherapy appointments.

A few weeks ago he needed to change a physiotherapy appointment.  He asked the receptionist if he could change his appointment because:

"Tengo que cumplir a mi esposa"

He thought that he was saying "I need to meet my wife."

It turned out, when he was relaying this tale to a friend of his, that he had been saying: "I need to satisfy my wife"!!!

The receptionist apparently had a great poker face.  I wonder what she said to her colleagues afterwards?

Sun, sand, sea and... snow!

If you look carefully, you can see snow on the mountains!

The last few months have passed in a bit of a blur, one of the reasons that there haven't been any blog updates from me.  I think about blogging often, but lots of other things end up taking priority.

Before we moved to the Costa del Sol, I wasn't completely sure what to expect in terms of weather.  Friends who had lived here previously, and who live here now, had told us that the weather was wonderful all year round; that it never really gets very cold.  I suppose I expected never to need a jacket or a scarf: that kind of 'it never really gets very cold'.  I have needed a jacket and a scarf.  Although, granted, not that often.  I wonder if my perceptions would have been different if we were moving here from the temperate UK climate vs. moving here from the tropical Filipino climate?

Whilst we have had some cold days, and some wet days, generally we have lots of sunny days.  The sunny days can feel cold when the wind is up.  But I don't mind, if it's sunny.

On these bright sunny days, we often have fabulous views of the Mediterranean sea on one side and the edge of the Sierra Nevada mountains on the other.  Over the last few weeks, as winter has arrived we have been able to see snow on the mountains, and the sun glinting off the sea.  How wonderfully surreal.

WHO's vaccinations?

Just before we left Manila Eilidh had her 4-month-vaccinations.  Our pediatrician noted that Eilidh's next round of vaccinations was due at the end of July, when she would be 6 months old.  At that point we would be in Spain.  Just.

So one of the first things I needed to do, when we arrived in Malága, was to find a pediatrician.  Admittedly I had been a bit lax on the research front before we arrived in Malága; I had wanted to enjoy our time in the Philippines as much as possible without thinking too much about the next move.  This meant that I had NO idea about how the vaccination schedule in Spain worked, nor indeed how the medical system worked.

In the Philippines, at one of the last check-ups before your baby is born, you are asked by your obstetrician to choose a pediatrician to be there at the baby's birth.  This was not something I had thought about.  I had just assumed that all the right people would be at our baby's birth, not that we would have to choose one.  But anyway, I asked around for some recommendations and chose one.  Our pediatrician then came to visit us every day in hospital, and she was the one we saw for Eilidh's check-ups and vaccinations.  So we were sorted.

How did it work in Spain?

I contacted a mutual friend, who had had her second baby here in Spain.  She told me that for some of the vaccinations you have to go to a chemist, buy the vaccination and then take it to your pediatrician to administer.  Unfortunately she didn't live in Malága itself, so couldn't recommend a specific pediatrician in the city.

I did a bit of Googling and found a pediatrician.  I phoned up, with my first question '¿Habla inglés por favor?'.  The secretary did, albeit broken.  I went ahead and made an appointment.

When I arrived at the appointment, the pediatrician did not speak English.  And I could not speak Spanish.  We tried to communicate, with Eilidh's list of vaccinations in front of us, in broken English and Spanish.  The Pediatrician was sweating from the strain, wiping his brow as he studied the vaccinations.  It didn't leave me with a good feeling.  He called in the secretary, who explained the same thing I had heard from my friend: you have to go out and buy some vaccinations.  She also said that some are free at your local health centre (Centro de Salud).

My mind was reeling.

I had a small window of opportunity to get Eilidh's vaccinations, and I was fast slipping out of it.  I didn't feel comfortable with the pediatrician I'd seen - his bedside manner with Eilidh wasn't good, and our communication difficulties were just too great.  I needed to find someone else.

At this point, I decided (sheepishly) to ask one of my Spanish friends to help me.  She was a godsend.  She found out about our local Centro de Salud, came with me to register Eilidh there, made an appointment with another pediatrician, came with me to that appointment, helped me buy the vaccinations and came back again for Eilidh's second vaccination appointment at the Centro de Salud.

It was made clear, at this second vaccination appointment, that we had not followed the Spanish schedule for vaccinations (obviously, as we had not been in Spain).  What baffled me was that the vaccination schedules around the world are so different.  When we had been in the Philippines our pediatrician told us that we were following the WHO recommended vaccination schedule.  I assumed (I'm learning slowly not to assume anything) that this would be the same around the world.  But it isn't.  I've spoken to friends in the UK and a friend from Holland and it seems that all 4 countries (Philippines, Spain, UK & Holland) all have slightly different schedules.

So I'm still undecided about the vaccinations that I haven't given Eilidh, we have moved again (out of Malága), which leaves us in the position of finding a new Centro de Salud, new pediatrician and figuring out whether to give her this 'missing' vaccination or not.

Let's not move again any time soon.

Feria de Malaga, 2014

"Oh, and during the fair.  It's going to be crazy."

One of the first things I heard from Santiago (the gentleman who picked us up from the airport when we arrived in Málaga, and has helped with various relocation-tasks) on the journey from Málaga airport into the city.  Mr H had heard the same thing, from more than one person.

A few weeks later, as Santiago was taking us to view some houses, he was shaking his head telling me how crazy it was going to be: "Imagine, people starting drinking at 12 o'clock, in this heat.  They are all drunk by 2pm!"

So what is this fair all about?

Every year, during the third week in August, the city of Málaga has it's annual fair, or feria.  Ostensibly, the purpose of the feria is to commemorate the re-conquering of Málaga by the Catholic monarchy of the time (Isabella & Ferdinand) from Muslim rule in 1487.  To me it seemed that the purpose was to get as drunk as possible by necking back as many tiny plastic cupfuls of Cartojal as you could.

The centre of Málaga, which had normally been quietly buzzing in the middle of the day became very busy and boisterous.  Doors which I'd thought were shut for good, would open onto rooms full of people partying.  Streets which are normally deserted between 2pm - 6pm were packed full of people.  Bars, some of which were normally void of any clientele, were standing room only.  Men in pink shirts were seen wheeling pink boxes of bottles of Cartojal to drinking establishments and convenience stores.  Temporary waste bins were set up every 20 metres on every street of the old town.  Ladies were seen sporting, mostly spotty, fancy dresses.  Men were still in their shorts.  Purple, green and white lanterns were hung above the main shopping street.  And a general sense of happiness and enthusiasm pervaded.

It was a little bit crazy.  But I really didn't mind.  I quite enjoyed wandering around, seeing everyone having such a good time.  We joined in with the Cartojal drinking.  But after Eilidh was in bed, in the comfort of our apartment.  Rock 'n roll we are not.

The Monday after the feria ended, the city was eerily quiet.  A week before, temporary bars and shade had been erected in the central square (Plaza de la Concepcion).  This week they were being taken down.  The sticky concrete was being washed and as many broken shards as possible of Cartojal cups were being swept up.  And from then onwards it was business as usual in the city.  Until next year.