Back from Montrondo, home sweet home, goodbye face masks indoors, "Is this my country?" Olivia back on TV, news of FT, the Queen turns 96, Olga Villiers, née Kapnist, preparing my father's memorial events in Yorkshire and other stories.

Sunday 24th April, 2022

Wednesday was the day face masks indoors were no longer obligatory (partially though).

Dear friends and readers.

How has your week been?  In the Ukraine the war continues. More mass graves have been found, Mariupol is still under siege, the Russian forces are concentrating on the Donbas region and have stated they want the whole of the south of the country. Foreign premieres went to visit Zelensky - including the Spanish PM and they have all promised more arms and weapons but probably not enough. The war does not look as though it will end soon. 

Let me tell you about ours. Last Sunday, Easter Day, we left Montrondo after a wonderful stay there with Olivia and her family. It was not a good day to drive back as there would be loads of holiday traffic but we had no choice as we had to be back on Monday. Oli and her family left at around midday and we closed the house. All of this took time as packing all the baby paraphernalia seems never endless. Elliot was a bit out of sorts that morning - he is quite a character and has a temper . but can be forgiven for his age and the fact that everything was so new for him. I was glad to see him getting to know all his little cousins and no doubt he will feel more familiar when he returns in the summer.

Last moments with Elliot in Montrondo

Their journey would be long because of the traffic. It normally takes 5 hours to get to Madrid but it took Oli and co 6 and a half. Amazingly the babies hardly protested but I am sure they were glad to be home to familiar surroundings. Oli sent me a pic of them playing. 

The babies happy to be home

We set off half an hour later. I felt hungry as I had missed my mid morning coffee. We hoped to get a table at the Parador in Benavente but being Easter Sunday it was full. Eladio suggested we go off the road into the small town of Valdevimbre. It is famous for wine making which takes place in caves that are quite unique. It is a popular tourist destination because of the many restaurants now housed in big caves. We were able to find a table at one of them, "La Cueva San Simón". 

Where we had lunch on Easter Day

I was impressed by the real live grill at the entrance where meat was being grilled. My lamb chops were grilled there and tasted quite good.

The grill at the entrance of the restaurant

We had been to one of the cave restaurants years and years ago in Valdevimbre and I remember feeling a bit claustrophobic and I did too on Sunday. The meal was good though. We had it as quickly as possible so as to hit the road again as we knew traffic lay ahead.

Our journey was long and tiring and I wished we had left on Monday but it wasn't to be. We finally arrived home at 7.30 to our "home sweet home". It was great to be back. Sunday was very warm and I think we could have had dinner outside but it was late and we were tired. What I did have was nearly a whole Easter egg afterwards. I had bought two online for Easter but did not take them with us as we hadn't planned to go to Montrondo after Asturias. 

The best part about coming home was sleeping in our own bed with its giant 180cm wide memory foam mattress. Nothing beats it for me. That night I slept like a baby.

I was awake at just before 6 am on Easter Monday. It was lovely to be home again and everything was in order thanks to Lucy. I felt good after our 12 day holiday and reflected how it was the first Easter Holiday in 2 years as Covid had robbed us of holidays at Easter since 2020. 

Food shopping was our priority on Monday and off we went to Mercadona and Carrefour. Both were full of people like us loading up provisions after being away. There was no walk or coffee out as Eladio had an appointment with an eye specialist for a check up as his sight has got worse. It was always good and he never got presbyopia. I got it aged 39 and always envied his sight. Well now it's the other way round as I was operated on 3 or so years ago and now I can see quite well. He came back to tell me he had the beginnings of cataracts but not yet operable. More worrying was that the doctor wanted him to see a retina specialist. That sounded ominous. But we refused to worry and got on with our day which was very quiet.

On Monday, María Eugenia, a young woman who I thought was from Mexico but is in fact from Venezuela arrived. She will be occupying the green room for 25 nights. I'm not quite sure why she is here; something to do with paperwork but no doubt I will find out later. She had asked to borrow a bike and we have lent her Oli's (hope Oli doesn't mind). She seems the sporty sort and will be using the bike as transport. Good for her. She seems the quiet type and will not bring us problems, like our damned squatter. That day too I had English guests arriving at our apartment in Santa Pola. Suzy welcomed them and I knew they were in good hands. I was told they loved our pad. Great, I was glad.

It was warm that day but it would be the last day of good weather for some time. That, unfortunately, means the pool can't be painted as it needs two full weeks of dry weather before it can be filled with water again. That's a bind as the pool is the greatest attraction of this house for guests. 

That afternoon, evening and night I  watched all 6 episodes of a new British TV series; Anatomy of a Scandal which was just up my street, not that I like stories about rape. I don't but I do like British TV you dunnit mystery series. I was also attracted to it because it features two actors I really like; "Mary" (Michelle Dockery) from Downton Abbey and "Peter Finch" (Rupert Friend) from Homeland - I had no idea he was a British actor. 

I think I must have fallen asleep at about 1 in the morning and was up at 7 am on Tuesday. That morning I finally got down to contacting the 4 "monumental masons" I had been recommended by the Bradford Town Hall bereavement team. I had never heard the term. What's wrong with "stone masons"? The lady from the Town Hall had recommended I use my mother's headstone to add words for my father. That makes sense although it won't be easy as the inscription for  my mother takes up nearly all of the headstone. But I would think of something.

As you can see there is not much room for my father's inscription on my mother's headstone. 

The penny clicked when I found this photo without flowers. Is it possible he left the small bottom part of the headstone for his own inscription; so tiny compared to my mother's? He was so modest he must have done. My dear friend Amanda commented it was rather fitting that the space for her was larger than for him, reflecting their personalities. She always stole his thunder but he never minded as he was so shy and quiet compared to my mother who was the exact opposite. 

That morning we managed our one hour walk in the woods and oh my how we noticed that spring had come on so quickly since we had been away. The grass was knee high in some places. Once home and after a quick cup of coffee I was off again. I went for a much needed hair cut and retouching of white and grey roots. I hate going to the hairdresser as I find it time consuming and boring except for the part where my hair is washed. I love that.

I was home for lunch and between Lucy and I made "bacalhau à brás", a Portuguese dish which is basically scrambled eggs with thinly cut chips, fried onion and cod. We love it and it's so easy to make.

I spent the afternoon trying to watch something on Netflix but ended up chatting for a very long time with a prospective guest; a solo travelling English woman who wants to come here in July. She sounds nice. 

It was supposed to rain that day and it did but only during dinner. On Wednesday morning we woke up to heavy rain and cooler temperatures. We also woke up to the fact that in Spain face masks were no longer obligatory indoors. We had been wearing them for nearly 2 years and I was happy to say goodbye to wearing a face mask. There are exceptions though: health centres of any kind, public transport, chemists, opticians and I think that is it. I was happy to say goodbye to mine when we went to have coffee at Alverán that morning but not everyone else is. Most people seem to have kept them on. I suppose I feel safe as after being a "Covid Virgin" for over 2 years I actually caught it. Plus I have the 3 vaccines so feel pretty immune at the moment. 

In the UK face masks have been abandoned a long time ago as have nearly all Covid restrictions. On that topic, the UK premiere, the one and only Boris Johnson, recently got a fine for breaking the law by attending forbidden parties at Downing street during lockdown, something he has repeatedly denied. He cannot carry on denying it I'm afraid. This week though trouble could be brewing when it was decided that a committee in Parliament would hold an investigation as to whether Boris Johnson had lied to parliament. That, if nothing else, is something he would have to resign over if he is found guilty. I doubt it will happen and he will continue to live a life of privilege, unlike most of us. 

Even worse, he is in sync with his awful Home Office Minister, Pittia Pratel who is cooking a plan to send asylum seekers to Rwanda of all places. It seems ironic that she herself is an immigrant from Uganda who sought refuge without issue in England in the 70's. I think this is absolutely appalling. When I read about this I just keep thinking "is this my country?"

Today Spain is my country of course, where I have lived since 1981. It was on Wednesday that I was delighted to see my daughter Oli who returned to work last week after maternity leave, live on TV again. She never tells me when she is going to be on so I was lucky to catch her. Here she is reporting on a football scandal, something to do with a contract to play the Spanish "Super Cup" in Saudi Arabia whereby the Barcelona football player, Gerard Piqué would get over 20 million euros in commission. Oli attended a press conference where the head of the Spanish FA would be giving his version of the facts.  She asked him later whether he thought the commission was ethical. Good for her. 

Great to see Olivia back live on TV

I wished I could have spoken to her that day when Eladio and I went into the laundrette next to our favourite cafe, Alverán.  But I would have to wait till later to tell her the news. We went to pick up all the bedding that we had taken for dry cleaning after our horrible squatter Felipe Turover left on 30th March last. We were amazed to hear from the woman there that Felipe had taken her his suitcases asking for the clothes inside to be cleaned. He hasn't paid her of course and that very morning she saw him sitting on a bench outside in the rain. He went in to give her his wet puffer jacket and to retrieve one of his dry coats. I asked her if she knew where he lived. She told me she was sure he is living on the street as he looks dreadful. He carries a haversack and if  he is living on the street, then that is why he has taken his belongings to the laundrette. The lady had taken them in as he has been a customer there for years until very recently when as we all know, he ran out of money. All she wants now is for him to take back his suitcase. We were stunned and you know what? I actually felt a little sorry for him. What do you make of that? My theory is that he found a place to stay via a vacational platform like he did with me. He probably booked and actually paid for 2 or 3 days. After that he would have offered to stay on paying directly (like he did with me) and that is when no doubt the owners googled him and found out his past and then chucked him out. So now he is on the street. What a terrible end for him when it could have been so different. Damn the man. I can't get him out of my system. I thought I was getting over him until we went to the laundrette that day. 

He is probably having awful days. I had a good day. There was time to read  (still finishing Exodus) and I downloaded the book Anatomy of a Scandal which I hope is as good or better than the series. I told my dear friend Amanda all my news in our weekly skype call. I can't wait to see her in England. We were interrupted by a "monumental mason" from the Keighley area; the only one so far who had bothered to contact me. He sounded lovely, a solid and honest Yorkshire man. I warmed to him immediately but was sad to hear the headstone won't be ready for the burial. I heard from him and others later that there is a huge backlog due to Covid so my father's inscription won't be on the headstone for up to 10 months or a year. Well, I thought, that's a good excuse to go back to Yorkshire.

I heard from another Yorkshire man that evening, Barrie, an ex Russian pupil of my father who left BGS in 1980. He had fond memories of my father. I was surprised to see he had become a vicar and was a Canon, just like my dear Grandfather, Revd. Canon John Collins Lloyd. I think we immediately bonded by email and he has been helping me enormously with the memorial and burial service programmes. He is also going to officiate  at the Memorial Service which is hugely fitting. Fittingly too I have called him a "God send".  I loved his anecdotes of my father too. It's wonderful to know that he lives on in so many people. 

My father fought in WWII so would be familiar with the Great Escape from the German Prison of War Camp Stalag Luff III. We have all seen the film and it's great as is the story. But that night we watched a documentary which was incredibly revealing. Of the 76 who escaped, 73 were caught and only 3 managed to avoid capture. They were 2 Norwegians and a Dutchman and part of their success was their ability to speak German. My father would totally understand that. 

However, the documentary gave me nightmares and I woke up in the middle of night wanting comfort from my husband. He too had had nightmares of Nazis chasing him which is unusual as Eladio hardly ever has nightmares. We started talking and I was wide awake. I kept hearing noises I couldn't fathom where they from until I opened our balcony window. My goodness there was a veritable concert of bird song going on. They were cooing to each other and courting. I only wish I had recorded it. 

Thursday came and HM Queen Elizabeth II turned 96 God bless her. My father had told me just before he died that she was "quite young". I love the official portrait for her birthday this year together with two of her horses. I pinched it from The Times to share with you here.

The Queen's official 96th birthday portrait

Her official birthday is in June and of course this year is her Platinum Jubilee. I sincerely hope she will be up to all that. Harry her grandson spoiled the occasion by blurting out in an interview that he had been to see her to make sure she was being looked after properly - suggesting she wasn't. Shame on him. 

The Queen loves her dogs, corgis mostly and I love ours, Pippa. So we took her on our walk as we always do. Thursday was a splendid sunny day and I could see all sorts of spring wild flowers which I know my father would have loved. I had to have a photo for this joyous moment and here it is. 

On my joyous walk with Pippa

Walks make you hungry and that day I decided to make a Russian dish my mother taught me how to make, Boeuf stroganoff which I am not actually sure is really Russian. It is made with fillet steak, mushrooms and a creamy tomato and onion sauce. We had it with rice. 

My boeuf stroganoff

The photo of the day on Thursday wasn't this but one sent to me by a past pupil of my father's; Jon. He too will be at my father's memorial events. He had been to Bradford Grammar School but also attended the Norwich Russian Courses where my parents and Aunty Masha taught for years. I went many times  so recognised quite a few people in the picture. I just loved seeing my parents and Aunt there on the front row. 

A group photo of the Norwich Russian Course in 1986. My parents are on the far left of the front row and Aunty Masha is third from the right looking very glamorous. 

That brought back so many memories and is a photo to treasure. Those were happy years for my parents. I notice my father is wearing one of those awful jumpers my mother knitted for him hahahaha. The lady sitting on the right of my father is Olga Villiers (third from the right on the front row with a pink jumper) née Countess Olga Kapnist. It's a very long story but my mother knew her when she was a child, when they both went to a school in Cannes in the 20's.  My mother was just 6 and had been sent from Bulgaria and was forever having tantrums. No doubt she missed her family. Olga was about 14 and was her angel. Olga was the only person able to calm my mother down. Many, many years later in England, my father saw an article about Olga's father - a Russian admiral who died during the Revolution. From that article, my parents were able to locate Olga, then Olga Villiers, living in Tunbridge Wells. Their reunion was of the sweetest as they had adored each other. My mother had never forgotten Olga. She became my "Aunty Olga" and often visited us in Ruskington with her old estate car and in Bradford. She then joined my parents as a teacher of Russian at the Norwich Russian Courses. I heard she died a few years after my mother in 2003 or 2004. I have tried to find her children and came across something on internet where her granddaughter, Emma Towers is looking for information about her grandmother's life story. If only I could find Emma Towers, we would have so much to say to each other. 

Thursday was a day full of memories, mostly about my father. After the correspondence with Barrie I was in touch with Emma, a journalist from the Bradford local "rag", The Telegraph and Argus. They want to be heavily involved in his memorial events for which I am so grateful. There will be an article in the paper this Monday and it will be online from tonight. I now have to get in touch with more media including of course, the Yorkshire Post. I realised on Thursday that now that FT is out of our lives I can continue the grief process of losing my father. I thought about him a lot this week as I spent time on the memorial events I am planning in Yorkshire. I finally finished the order of service for the Memorial Service on 6th May at 10 am at Bradford Cathedral. I got some help from Barrie - many thanks. This is it. Do you like it? I hope so.

Front cover of the Order of Service 

Later though when I sent it out to the "old boys" who will be talking at the service, I discovered quite a few mistakes. One of them was that I had used the King James version for Psalm 23 and  the Modern English Bible version for the verse from the Gospel of St. John.  They are now both the King James version which I think is the Bible my father was most familiar with. So thanks David and John for pointing them out. And thanks Amanda for proof reading. I also have to thank my dear friend Juana who came up with the format when I designed my father's memorial service in Madrid. Without her help I wouldn't know how to turn this into a leaflet to give out to the congregation on 6th May. 

Barrie also helped me with the graveside burial. He practically did it for me which is a huge relief. I have never been to a graveside burial  and only seen them on TV so don't know the protocol. I needed to know when people could throw earth/soil into the grave. This was the answer Barrie gave me : "The usual procedure is for someone from the family to place the urn/casket into the grave unopened at the words “we now commit…”. (With slight pause in the prayer to allow this to be done without rushing). Earth/soil is thrown into the grave by the officiant during the words “earth to earth, ashes to ashes” and then others are invited to do so immediately after the end of that prayer.   The cemetery will usually provide a bowl/container of soil for this purpose". You see I have to get it absolutely right and there is so much to learn but I am loving learning it. 

 I also had to write my own reflections to be read at the burial. I have done that too. I check everything with my dear friend Amanda. She is on board with me on this 100 percent. We went to school together and my parents were like second parents to her. So who better to have on board?

The final arrangements are: 2nd May 2 pm. Graveside Burial at Charlestown Cemetery officiated by the Acting Dean of Bradford Cathedral, 5th May 7 - 9pm reception and buffet at Bradford Grammar School,  6th May 10 am. Memorial Service at Bradford Cathedral followed by refreshments.

Dear Emma from the T&A has suggested there be some representative or recognition from veteran associations at the Memorial Service. That was on my mind too but I didn't really know how to go about it. Emma introduced me to a Bradford City Councillor who is the Local Armed Forces Champion. She is now in touch with some big wigs from the Royal Navy. This whole thing is snowballing and it is doing so out of the love and dedication I have for my dear parents. I think of them all the time as I am making the arrangements. 

Friday came and it rained again. I spent the first 3 or 4 hours on all the arrangements and only then was I free to make our lunch. We went out to buy fresh fish which we had with my father's favourite veg, cauliflower. The afternoon was spent lazily watching Young Wallander on Netflix. The pace is a bit slow. 4 young students attending a start up conference for young marketeers arrived from Seville so the house is full this weekend. In fact all 3 of our houses are full which is good. 

We went out for a fast food dinner which was naughty but nice. We don't often go to hamburger "joints" but rather like Carls Jr which is very nearby. It's the chips I love, just like my father.

On Saturday it rained again. We had the pleasure of the company of Olivia and Juliet but not Miguel and Elliot who went to have lunch with his mother. Juliet is such a sweet baby; no trouble at all. I took her off Oli's hands so my daughter could get a  rest. I put her in a sort of cradle like recliner and sang to her while rocking it until she fell asleep. It reminded me of when my girls were babies because that is how I got them to sleep. Thus we all had a good rest.

Today is Sunday and the sun is shining. We shall go on our walk with Pippa, I shall make our lunch - just the two of us. The afternoon will be different as we have been invited for afternoon tea, or "merienda" as it is called in Spanish. You will read about that next week.

Now it's time for me to publish this and to get on with my day.  Next week I will be publishing this blog in Haworth, that beautiful Yorkshire village where the Brontë sisters lived.

Till then my friends, goodbye.

Masha