St. Nicholas church in Sofia, an adventure in the snow, winter wonderland in Montrondo, a cozy and relaxing time in the village and other tales of this week.

Montrondo, Sunday, 22nd January, 2022

Happy in the snow in Montrondo

Good morning from cold and frosty Montrondo high up in the mountains of León, in north west Spain. 

January, my least favourite month, is now nearing its end. It is generally the coldest month of the year and that has certainly been true this week when rain, strong wind and snow hit the peninsula. This was thanks to two new storms called Gerard and Fein. I have no idea why storms are now given names but they have. So, silly us, or rather silly me, eager to enjoy snow again, I urged my husband to go to Montrondo, to his village in the mountains of León. I was inspired by a villager (Jenaro) who had posted photos of the snow but I didn't anticipate the enormous difficulty of getting here. Anyway, more about that later. 

Las Sunday, as predicted, was an extremely quiet day with not much to report. I was still reeling emotionally from research into my family's roots in Bulgaria. If you read last week's post, you will know that my mother's family fled there from the Russian Revolution. While I was doing the research last week, my school friend, Geraldine (that lovely "girl" who puts flowers on my parents' grave at Charlestown Cemetery in Baildon) just happened to be in Bulgaria on a skiing holiday. When I published my blog last Sunday she was visiting Sofia, the capital. She even visited my grandfather's Russian Orthodox church, St Nicholas the Miracle-Maker and told me she wished she had read my blog before going as she would have been able to search for his grave. What an amazing coincidence. I wish too that I had told her of my findings. 

She told me it was beautiful inside and out and it looks it. It's very Russian with its typical onion domes.

My grandfather's church in Sofia. St Nicholas the Miracle-Maker

This week I visited the church website and there in writing were mentions of my grandfather. Here they are: 

Over time, the composition of the parish council has changed. As rector of the temple, Vladyka (Bishop) Seraphim himself appointed priests and his assistants. So, in 1925, His Serene Highness Prince Andrey Lieven, who took the rank by vow, became his assistant, according to his contemporaries, the most prominent personality of the Russian nobility in Bulgaria. He was the leader of the nobility of the Kolomna district of the Moscow province, a candidate of legal sciences, a participant in the civil war in the ranks of the Volunteer Army in southern Russia. The history of his vow was well known to the parishioners of the Russian church. During the evacuation from Russia, A.A. Liven tried for a long time and unsuccessfully to find his family in Constantinople, many thousands of people. Then he made a vow to devote his life to the service of God, if the family is found. Soon he miraculously found his wife and children. Having got through Gallipoli to Bulgaria, became the spiritual child of Bishop Seraphim, his desire to take the rank was strengthened. In 1925, Father Andrei was ordained Vladyka and became a priest of the Russian Church, and since 1926. until 1944 he was the secretary of the episcopal council, the right hand of Vladyka Seraphim.

After the decree of November 17, 1944, liquidated all organizations of Russian emigrants and prohibited any of their public activities, the Russian church remained the only place where they could freely practice their faith, communicate and help each other. Great merit in the rallying of the parishioners belonged to Archpriest Andrei Lieven, who, after the death of Archpriest Georgy Golubtsov, became the rector of the church. He was distinguished by true Russian hospitality, kindness, he did a lot to attract young people to the church, organizing conversations on spiritual topics, poetry evenings, at which he often read his spiritual poems and magnificent translations.

Wow, there it was in writing, the confirmation of my grandfather's time at the church as parish priest and right hand man to Bishop Seraphim. My mother talked often and fondly of this bishop. She remembered a party for his name's day when as the priest's daughter she and a friend (Elena) had to lend a hand.  They were young and underage and drank all the dregs left in people's glasses. Apparently the bishop wanted to thank them and her father whispered their misdemeanors  in his ear and they were swiftly sent home. 

She would describe too the long and many hours spent at the church and not just on Sundays. The family were always short of money so all clothes and shoes were hand-me-downs.   She had big feet (a size 8) and inherited her older brother Sasha's shoes which were men's shoes and far too big for her. Her father laughed and said they looked like boats on her feet. She thought they looked like child's coffins or little tanks. These are snippets of their lives I know from her stories. What she didn't tell me is something I read in the first text above that I learned this week, that he was the most prominent personality of the Russian nobility in Bulgaria. Many Russians fled to Paris - all Russian aristocracy spoke French - but many too went to Bulgaria because the religion is Orthodox. My dear Aunty Valya once explained to me that Russian nobility felt guilty about the Revolution and how their riches played a part in dethroning the Tsar, so they turned to religion to purge their souls. I can understand that. My mother's family seemed to carry that to the extreme. 

I know that if and when I visit "their" church I will find it very emotional. No doubt, just as I did when I stepped into my first and last church in Russia on my only visit there, to St. Petersburg in 2006, I will break down and cry for them all. I shall also light a candle for each and every one of them and kiss all the icons, imagining them there so many years ago. A Russian Orthodox service is long, very ritualistic, very spiritual but also very tiring as you have to stand up throughout and the services go on forever in Church Slavonic.  My mother used to tell me they had to go on empty stomachs to receive Holy Communion and that many fainted on occasion, herself included. What a difficult life they had. 

When the Red Army marched into Bulgaria in September 1944, 4 of the siblings had left. The plan was for their parents to leave too and meet up in Austria. When the war ended, my mother kept going to the train station in Vienna but they never came. Bulgarians she knew, escaping the Communist yolk would give her news of her parents and her sisters Olga and Masha. One of them (Madame Moscova) told her she had said goodbye to her father before leaving and that "he looked as if Christ had risen again and her mother looked as if they had hauled her down the cross". The Bishop did not want to leave and her father had decided to stay.  He did not want to leave his parishioners and would suffer the consequences. Then when he may have finally decided to leave, it was no longer an option. In 1949 he fell ill, I think with pneumonia. Aunty Masha always swore he was killed by the communists once under anesthetic but we shall never know.

Any way, enough of this as I must be boring you. The good news though is that I have written to the church and their reply was very warm. They are happy to host us there. Wonderful they still remember him. I now have to get in touch with the convent and that I shall do, for sure. 

As I say, last Sunday was quiet as was most of the week. Monday came and brought the cold weather. The morning was not pleasant to say the least. I had an appointment with my urologist for a second treatment of 4. When I got home all I wanted to do was rest and relax and that's what I did. The highlight of Monday was my Skype call with dear Amanda to whom I can share even the most intimate details of my life.

On Tuesday morning we did something exciting and necessary for our trip - the trip of our lives through Europe to Turkey and the Caucasus in the spring. For some non EU countries an international driving licence is needed. A while back I applied for ours online and that day we went to pick them up in person - you can only go in person. So off we went to the very large DGT (Dirección General de Tráfico) where I think I only went once years ago to get my first driving licence. It's far from where we live and difficult to park. Luckily we didn't need a prior appointment - lots of people were being turned away - but we had failed to take along a photo so had to go outside and use one of those old fashioned photo booths at 5 euros a photo. That slowed up the process a bit but soon we were back and attended, for once, by a very kind official. I was so pleased with the new documents I had to have a photo to remember the moment. As a friend, Catherine, said on social media - "it's becoming real". Indeed it is. The official wasn't allowed to take a photo (so stupid) but we found one willing person who would - a policeman! As we posed I sort of told everyone this was the trip of our life, that we will have been married 40 years this summer and I think I kissed my husband. People looked and someone said "how sweet". I felt ecstatic. And here we are with the treasured documents.

With our new international driving licences. 

We were home a bit late for lunch which was ready on the table - bless you Lucy - and were joined by Suzy. It was then that I saw a video showing the snow in Montrondo, posted by one of the villagers. Oh snow I thought, I want to be there! So there and then, we decided we would go the next day. I just love the snow in Montrondo, even if I broke my leg on ice there 8 years ago.

The afternoon was spent quietly watching episode 2 of Season 12 of Call the Midwife and then less quietly watching episode 3 of Season 3 of Happy Valley which is not happy at all. Over dinner we discussed our plans for the next day. We also spoke to our Chinese guests who still haven't found an apartment and keep extending their stay with us. I have the sinking feeling they are being turned away by flat owners because they are not Spanish or from the EU. There are few flats for rent and too many applicants. Owners here, so frightened of squatters, impose very stringent rules for potential tenants. Eladio made a few calls and one estate agency told him there were 30 prospective tenants and just to visit the flat they had to pay a month's fee - to be returned if they were not lucky. I feel sorry for them and sincerely hope they find somewhere soon. No doubt this weekend they will have cheered up by celebrating the Chinese Lunar New Year of the Rabbit. It is supposed to bring prosperity, hope and calm. They need all three. Don't we all? I certainly got a lot of calm here in Montrondo this week. 

On Wednesday, after quite a bit of shopping as there are no shops anywhere near Montrondo, we set off with Pippa at around 12 o'clock, full of energy and looking forward to the trip and staying at our lovely house. Lunch was to be in Rueda but unfortunately Bodega de Palacio was closed for maintenance. Thus we drove on to the Parador in Tordesillas where we had not too good a lunch for a Parador. But it was good enough to fill our stomachs.

The snow started on the road to León but it wasn't heavy. When we came off the motorway at La Magdalena, that's when we began to see some serious snow. 

However the snow ploughs were working well and the roads were quite clear. We got as far as Senra where you go off the road to Murias and then on to Montrondo where the road ends and the mountains start. Well, that road was absolutely covered in the white stuff and there was no way we could drive in it. Eladio suggested driving further up to a ramp where another road leads directly to Murias. We were alone on the road. That intersection was even worse and we were stuck as you can see in this video. This was the situation we were in and by then it was getting dark. Oh dear, what an adventure. Eladio had brought a shovel and starting making a path but the car just skidded. He also put on some tyre covers - not chains -  ones we had never used and his fingers got frozen. I felt pretty useless so took pictures to document our adventure. 

Stuck in the snow trying to get to Montrondo

Eladio shoveling snow on the road 

The  tyre covers were no good at all in such thick snow.  Oh, how naive we were to have come so unprepared. After a lot of shovelling, we were able to turn round and go back to Senra and there tried to park under cover by the bar, Cumbres de Omaña which was closed. I had to ask for help so rang a dear neighbour. She wasn't at home but arranged for friends to put us up in Senra  -God bless her. Apparently the snow plough had not shifted the snow from Senra to Montrondo so only a 4WD with winter tires could drive there.

And lo and behold, a miracle happened and one appeared. It was the bar owner's car, returning home. He was cross we had tried to park in his enormous car park (he is known for being grumpy) but to cut a long story short, he offered to drive us to Montrondo. So we took all our belongings in his car and left ours outside in the snow - note not in his spacious garage. 

Things weren't easy when we arrived either and the barman helped us shovel away the snow and make a path, telling us off all the time for being so intrepid - as if we didn't know. Here is Eladio with some of our  bags outside the main gate. Without this man's help, we would not have made it to Montrondo that night. So many thanks are due to him. But we have learned our lesson and won't come here again on a whim if it is snowing like this. It was serious snow, the type you see in Canada and Finland. The locals here are prepared but we are not. 

Arriving in the snow at our house in Montrondo

Finally we  were inside what we thought would be a warm home. Eladio had switched on the central heating the night before with his phone but something must have gone wrong as it was off when we arrived. The temperature outside was 1ºc and inside, not much more; 3.5ºc. He soon put it on but it would take all night to heat the house. I had hoped we could light the fire but there was no kindling inside the house and impossible to fetch some from outside. 

We just had to get on with it in the cold. I unloaded and packed away all the food and began to make our dinner. It was going to be fried eggs except that the induction hob just wouldn't respond to my fingers. It suddenly stopped working and I have no idea what has happened. In the end we had a cold dinner in a cold house with the snow outside. But we knew the next day would be a better day and it was.

The night was freezing but I had Pippa to keep me warm under the duvet. I wore 4 layers of clothing including gloves and a scarf. I woke up in the morning to a warm house thankfully. I could not believe I had woken up at past 8 am when I usually wake up in Madrid at 6 ish. I had slept like a baby. Wonderful. 

On Thursday it  was still snowing outside but oh my goodness, what a sight. The photos I took do not do it justice. Here is just one of them, so you can see how deep it was. 

The snow that had accumulated the morning after we arrived

I also took this good morning from Montrondo video which you can see here. 

Finally the house was warm but we needed wood and kindling for both the fire and the cooker - a sort of Aga / range - very typical in this area - which I would have to cook on because the induction hob wouldn't work.  Eladio, dressed in his more than 50 year old dressing gown and snow boots, managed to get wood and kindling from one of the sheds and also shoveled a path from the house to the shed.

Wood and kindling for the fire and the Aga

Eladio shoveling the snow in his 40 or 50 year old dressing gown

Soon he had both the wood fire and kitchen range lit and the house became cozy and inviting. We were to enjoy a quiet and relaxing time in the village now that we had everything under control. 

The fire on in the lounge

My versatile husband lighting the range

I had to cook on the range for possibly the second time ever as we don't usually use it. Everyone does here as they do in the villages in Asturias. So, here I am frying steak. I had to have a photo for the occasion. 

Using the range to make our lunch

In the afternoon I suggested we try and go out for a walk and to enjoy the snow as  by then the snow plough had been and the "main road" was clear. I dressed up in the warmest clothing I had. I dug out some old ski trousers which I wore with thick boots and a very thick puffer jacket that I always leave here. First I had to have a photo of the house with snow - this is it and we love it. 

Our house in the snow - we love it

It was Eladio's original family house which we "inherited". We gutted it about 7 years ago and turned it into a 3 floor cozy cottage. What we also did was to uncover the original stone. It is the only house we do not rent out so it is pretty pristine inside. We are sandwiched in between 2 of Eladio's siblings' houses which used to be part of the farm. Eladio's parents had mainly cattle and sheep. To think my husband was once a  little "shepherd boy" and how different his life is today!

Eladio knows how to deal with snow from his youth, so shovel in hand, he made a path to the road. Here he is. 

Eladio making a path to the road with his shovel

Everything just looked like winter wonderland and I had to have photos and lots of them. It was difficult to choose the feature photo but it had to be of me smiling and stretching out my arms. This is another one. 

Loving being in the snow in our own private winter wonderland

A friend, Joanna, asked if we had made a snowman. I suggested to Eladio that we make one and he laughed saying that was only for children. No doubt, if Elliot and Juliet had been here he would have built one. So, no, sadly, we didn't.

It gets dark here at 6.30 and at around that time it started to rain thus we went back in. I was worried all the snow would go but it didn't as there was far too much of it. It's still here today with no sign of melting. 

Dinner that night was fried eggs - what we love most here - fried on the range and I was quite proud of myself for being able to manage it. 

That night I slept even better as the house was nice and cozy and I couldn't believe I woke up only once and then got up at 8.30. 8.30 a.m. is unknown for me and I felt so refreshed and relaxed. The snow was still there on Friday. It had stopped raining and the sun was out making for some stunning scenery. 

Again Eladio lit both fires and soon I had a cocido cooking which would take hours but was done to perfection. I also sorted out the food cupboards and chucked away  so much food out which had expired. Sorry about that. But I now know where everything is. 

At 12 we set off for a walk to Senra - about 4km - to fetch our car. It was about 9º so not too cold and I didn't have to wear my sub zero puffer jacket. Wherever we looked it was beautiful and we both took so many photos that it is difficult to choose which to share with you. Here are some of them, including a herd of cows I felt sorry for. Eladio assured me they would have a roof over their heads at night. Even so. 

Photos of our walk from Montrondo to Senra on Friday morning in our own winter wonderland

We were amazed to find our car not covered in snow and I suspect the grumpy barman who wouldn't let us park it in his covered garage, removed it. Here is Eladio about to shovel the snow from around the car. The verb to shovel snow in Spanish is "palear" but everyone in this area says "espalar". I thought that was a Castilian Spanish word but it is seems it's local. Everyone here is an expert at it and every house has a shovel. Thank goodness Eladio brought ours. 

Rescuing our car in Senra

And out he came, the grumpy bar man. We wanted to pay him for his services but he refused. We had a long chat about our adventure which I think is the talk of the valley and then Eladio switched on the ignition. I was worried our over 20 year old ex Nokia old Volvo - an S60 - might not start but it did. Soon we were on the clear road and back to Montrondo where Eladio had to shovel more snow out of the way so as to park it on the kerb.

I rushed inside to rescue my cocido but thankfully the range had gone out. But all was good and soon we were sitting down to a scrumptious lunch. Then it was time for the news - all about sending or not sending tanks to Ukraine  - and then a lovely siesta. I do wish the Germans would decide to send their Leopard tanks or otherwise Russia may win this awful war. 

We did not go out again but had a quiet time indoors. We are loving our time here. For dinner I wanted to make a prawn, mango and avocado salad. To do so without the induction hub was an issue and the range needs time to heat up.  Eladio suggested we use the grill that comes with the wood burner. We had never used it so what better time than this week and it worked a treat. It reminded me of my girl guide days (Joanna!). 

Grilling the prawns in the wood burner

And voilà, I was able to make this delicious salad.

Prawn salad thanks to the wood burner

Our entertainment from that night onward was watching Season 4 of Fauda, the popular Israeli series. Fauda means chaotic in Arabic and that it is but also very  thrilling. It's a very authentic story of the Israeli Palestinian conflict. Doran, the main character, played by Lior Raz, who is also the producer, is the main attraction for me. What a wonderful actor he is. 

Again I woke up around 8 am yesterday, Saturday. We spent a good part of the morning trying to find someone to mend the induction hob to no avail. We did get to talk to an electrician we had used before but he had no idea. So that will be our mission tomorrow Monday when businesses open. 

I also spent a good part of the morning leisurely making a delicious lunch of roast chicken leg with potatoes and peppers. Dessert was baked apples which were divine. Everything in Montrondo tastes better than elsewhere. I think it has something to do with the mountain air.

We couldn't go up the mountains because we don't have the right footwear for the snow up there so our walk yesterday afternoon was down to Murias and back up to Montrondo. But it was still beautiful. I would have loved to go on the old path but the snow was too deep and I suspected there would be ice underneath. This is it.

The old path to Murias which we didn't take because of the snow. 

We met people on the way, people, who, like us, had probably come to enjoy the snow at the weekend. Just as you enter Murias one of the main buildings is the old prison which Eladio remembers well as a child. 20 odd years ago it was turned into holiday accommodation and very recently was reopened as a hotel, Casa Rural La Cárcel, by a young couple, Nuria and Fernando. We decided to visit it as we had heard it also operates as a restaurant. Outside the hotel with just 5 bedrooms, someone had built a snowman which was melting. I had to have a photo of that didn't I? I got Eladio to pose.

Eladio next to a melting snowman outside the old prison now a hotel called just that, The Prison, or "La Cárcel" in Spanish

The owners invited us in and also let Pippa in which is quite a concession in Spain. They were  very welcoming and I rather liked the place. They had guests this weekend and seem to be doing very well even though it is low season. We wish them well. I also look forward to having dinner or lunch there one day. 

And off we walked back home to our now very warm house, our nest as we call it, to enjoy another pleasant dinner together and more episodes of Fauda. I couldn't wish for anything more.

Today is Sunday and I woke up again past 8 am. I woke up to a sub zero temperature of -8 degrees  which is even cold for here. Meanwhile, my friend Geraldine, is basking in 19ºc in the south of Spain near Málaga. That is Spain for you; very diverse. Each region is so different as is the weather. 

The sun is shining though and we are warm inside "our nest" and intend to enjoy another relaxing day in this beautiful and remote little village in the north west of Spain. 

Meanwhile, I wish you all a great Sunday, wherever you are.

Cheers till next week, Masha.