Sunday 17th February 2019
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| Eladio and I celebrating St. Valentine's at La Txitsarrería on Thursday |
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Hi again. Another Sunday and another blog post. You may ask how I am able to keep up writing my blog weekly, something I have been doing since I started in 2005. That's impressive isn't it? Most people who start a blog give up after a while. I can't give up now as it has become my passion. Thus, with discipline, I write a little bit every morning after breakfast and then it's easier to update it on Sunday and post it.
Last week's post is much more exciting than this week's. But there was a highlight and it was St. Valentine's Day - but more about that later. Oh, there were others of course, so read on. I must not digress and start from the beginning.
The beginning was last Sunday, the weekend of my birthday. I enjoyed my cake and ate it from Friday to Sunday with my Father and Eladio. We finished it on Sunday and on Monday I would be back to my diet or rather maintenance diet.
Sunday last was a quiet day but very sunny and crisp. My two students, Javi andAlba, were leaving but would be back again this week on Thursday. They will be here nearly every weekend until the end of June. Alba is just so sweet and beautiful I had to have a photo of her. Here she is, perhaps my most beautiful guest to date.
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| Beautiful Alba, one of my sweetest guests ever |
I spent most of the morning revising and adding more gems to my father's biography. I started a month ago and it's amazing how quickly I have written the bulk of it. At lunchtime that day I probed my father with more information from his past. I had added a chapter about his dear sister Gloria, my Aunty Gloria who you will know died in an air crash with all her family in 1971. What a tragedy. I wanted to know more about her early years and I got that information from Daddy. He told me she attended the "Clergy Daughter's College" in Bristol. I thought, how fitting for a Vicar's daughter. I knew she had been evacuated at the beginning of the war and during or just before the blitz. He told she was sent to Wells, safe from the German bombardments. He even remembered she stayed with a lady called "Constance Gig". He went on to tell me he remembered Bristol before the Blitz in 1940 and 1941. He mentioned he would walk along Vine Street onto the High Street where there was a picturesque building called "The Dutch House". Indeed there was and I showed him pictures of the timber framed landmark of Bristol at the time and he nodded with a smile. Thus I had to rush downstairs again after lunch to add the new information to his biography which has now turned into a book. Everything he tells me is fascinating, stories from the past that should not be forgotten. I am delighted to include that he remembers Bristol before it was bombed. Not many people do any more. He is living history for me and the more I write about him and the more I talk to him, the more I love and admire him.
I actually slept quite a long siesta after that though missing the news. The main news that day in Spain was a big demonstration held by the right wing parties calling for the unity of Spain, protesting against the socialist government's "outreach to Catalan separatists" and demanding elections. They would get them.
On our walk with the dogs, Eladio and I mused about the situation in Catalonia and the upcoming trial of the separatist leaders, as well as the problem of Venezuela. We are very much on the same page when it comes to our opinions and interest in the news.
After dinner we watched a semi political debate, part conversation between 2 radically different women politicians. On the one hand the central democratic opposition leader in Catalonia, Inés Arrimadas from the Ciudadanos Party and on the other her opponent the radical left wing Podemos spokeswoman and interim leader, Irene Montero who is married to the party's leader, Pablo Iglesias. Both are beautiful women and both are very talented debaters but I must say their debate got very heated and it was difficult for the interviewer, the talented Jordi Evolé, to calm them down. It was actually the most entertaining debate I have ever seen in Spain.
We later watched a tragic but great film called "My life without me", the story of a woman diagnosed with cancer with just 3 months to live and how she keeps the news from her family, yet makes plans for them for when she will no longer be there. It's worth watching and makes you realise just how many things are so superfluous in life when death is at your door.
Monday felt like another trip down memory lane, working on my father's biography. It got bigger and bigger. That day his old school, Clifton College, sent me photos of him in 1934, along with, believe it or not, his school report, just before he left. The teachers who wrote in it were spot on. The first entry in 1928 when he was 9, was "dreamy". Well, yes, my father is the dreamiest person I know. It also mentions more than once that he had "difficulty in expressing his feelings". Well, that couldn't be more true either. It seems, unsurprisingly he was very good at Latin but weak at maths and science. Of course, that's because he would become a linguist. I like the conclusion though which also came true: "he left too young for one to be able to judge whether he would develop any leadership but there were signs that he might do so". It ends with a lovely comment: "a perfectly reliable boy". When I showed the report to my father, he was surprised but unable to show me so, but he did chuckle when I told him they said he was a "dreamer. Here it is for your amusement. It says secret but I suppose it isn't any more is it? What a gem to add to my biography.
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| My father's school report from Clifton College Bristol April 1935. |
They also sent another class photo of him in 1934. I then asked them if they had one of his brother Raymond. Raymond, who was born in 1922 was 3 years younger and they were together in North Town at the school. Sadly, as you probably know, he died of polio in 1938, aged just 16, in the days before vaccines. This is the wonderful photo they sent me. Raymond has glasses on and is standing up. His face is circled in red in the picture. When I showed the photo to my Father, he pointed out his brother very quickly saying "Good Lord, there is Raymond". What a blow it must have been to lose his brother so early on in life. His death was the first of many tragedies to strike the family. Today only my Father and I are left and we treasure each other.
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| Raymond, my father's brother at Clifton College Bristol in 1932. He was aged 10. |
I have to say that all the institutions my father was involved with, Clifton College, Selwyn College Cambridge and Bradford Grammar School, are bending over backwards to help with information and photos of my father. I am eternally grateful and I am including all the people helping me in the acknowledgement section of the book. On Friday I reached 36.000 words pages which probably make a 200 page book.. You can't begin to imagine the journey I am on and how I am enjoying it. Sometimes it's very sad though and sometimes it's funny. A past pupil of my father's read the manuscript and told me it was both moving and entertaining. It is meant to be.
Selwyn College Cambridge sent me another photo for the book on Monday, this time of my father at matriculation in 1938. I could hardly recognise him but if you look carefully it is clear that it is him in the third row, second from the left.
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| My father - Selwyn College Cambridge matriculation photo 1938 |
My father is helping me with the biography by answering all sorts of questions I am throwing at him. I write questionnaires for him, print them out in huge font and then we talk at lunch or after lunch and he gives me his answers. On Monday I wanted to know about his father's and mother's families. I told him that when I was younger, I never listened. If only I had then I could have taped him. He used to talk about Uncle Tom and Uncle Will and cousins in Glasgow and I hadn't a clue who they were. On Monday he resolved a few of the mysteries. He told me he liked answering my questions and when would I be asking him more. Oh bless him. Of course I would be asking him more. He is a mine of information and has an amazing memory for dates. He told me for example the exact date of birth of his cousin Angela - the daughter of his mother's sister Gwendoline. I was flabbergasted. But when I asked about a certain "Uncle David" (David Collins Esquire) who had obtained a medal from the King of Siam in about 1888, he said that it was a bit difficult to remember things that had happened more than a hundred years ago! Indeed it is.
At the moment I am living and breathing his story but I also have a family and must record their lives in this blog too. Eladio always says this is not my blog but the family blog. He is right. Well that day, Suzy was singing in her new band called Chuchis Chuchis at the Opening Party held at the Bali Beat Guesthouse. It looked so much fun. Here is a close up of her with the microphone. Well done Suzy, your singing brings music to my ears. She has always sung very well and was often the soloist with her school choir but had stopped singing. I'm so glad she has started again. Well done darling.
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| Suzy singing again - it brings music to my ears |
Oli couldn't have been further away. On Monday she was sent to the village of Nuevalos in Zaragoza, about 2.5h drive from Madrid. Once again she would be doing a report on a beautiful village with a spectacular waterfall. Here she is with a villager by the waterfall. It would be a long day for her, traveling there, filming and driving back. The next day she would edit the report and we would see her on the evening programme on TV.
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| Oli filming on Monday in Nuevalos in the province of Zaragoza |
Her programme does get her out and about and even though she is chauffeur driven, it must be rather tiring.
Apart from working on the biography, I also had a look at the clippings from the press conference last Friday for Adamo. I was bowled over to see we had garnered none less than 54 which is huge for not such breaking news. The equivalent in advertising spend would have come to 300.000 euros! I hope my customer is pleased.
There is not much more to say about Monday, so let's move onto Tuesday.
Tuesday 12th February would have been my dear brother George's 64th birthday, a date forever etched in my mind, just as the date of his death is, 15th May. I'm always sad on these days and Tuesday was no different. I posted on social media what I always think and which I reproduce here for you. "It would have been my dear brother George's birthday today. I can never forget him, my talented 6 ft. tall, blue eyed, blonde, handsome brother. He was an even better linguist than my parents, he could learn languages in no time and could play any musical instrument but was a very troubled boy. I always feel so guilty I got all the luck and he got none. You died too young and we miss you always. My only consolation is that I carry you in my heart. God bless you today and every day RIP." My father and I both spoke about him that day, mentioning his birthday with a heaviness in our hearts.
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| My golden brother in the mid 70's. He died aged 46 of melanoma on 15th May 2001. RIP |
I was much cheered up when I opened the post box to find a lovely personalised bar of Fazer chocolate from my dear friend Anne from Finland. It was to wish me happy friends' day. Apparently in Finland, St. Valentines is also celebrated as friends' day. This is it.
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| Chocolate from Anne arrived on Tuesday |
It wasn't the only present I received that day. A slip had arrived from Correos (Spanish postal service) and I had to pick up the parcel at the post office. The parcel was from my dear friend Jackie for my birthday. It was an excuse to go out and take a break from writing. As soon as I got in the car I opened it. I am delighted with the woolen hat and mittens, "Desigual" style that my friend knitted for my birthday and that will be perfect for my walks. Thanks Jackie so much.
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| My present from Jacky |
Apart from continuing with the book, having lunch with my father and Eladio, talking to my father in the afternoon about the past, going for our walk and having dinner, there is not much else to say about Tuesday either. Each to their own in our house and while I was concentrated on my affairs, Eladio was listening avidly to the beginning of the big trial of the Catalan separatists. It's apparently the biggest trial of its kind in recent Spanish history and there are 600 accredited journalists, 50 from abroad. Let's see how it turns out.
Wednesday came and it was another sunny day but I didn't go out apart from the walk. That day I spoke to an ebook publisher recommended to me. Mikel who is from Vitoria has assured me he can do the whole job in a question of days after receiving the manuscript. How easy it is to publish a book these days. Apart from the type setting, the design, etc, he will also upload it on Amazon for kindle users. Next for publishing hard copies. I have a friend who is an editor, Javier, and he is going to help me. This is so exciting. I added lots of funny anecdotes from the past related to my father. One of them stands out very clearly. My brother must have been about 12 when he asked my father to tell him the "facts of life". My father's answer; "get on with your German verbs". Of course it was my mother who told us the facts of life and that is another story too long to write here. If this elated period continues, once my father's book is finished, I may well start on hers The great thing is to write when you have inspiration and I have a lot of that. When we ended the conversation on the phone, Mikel, being Basque, ended it saying "agur" meaning goodbye! No one has ever spoken to me in Basque:-)
Meanwhile in Spain all eyes were on two establishments. The first was parliament where the MP's were voting on the 2019 budget. It didn't go through as the separatists wouldn't back it. Without a budget , Pedro Sánchez had not much choice but to call general elections.
All eyes, both from Spain and abroad were also on the Supreme Court on the second day of the trial of the Catalan separatists, accused of rebellion, among other crimes. Their trial has been criticised as a political one in Catalonia and outside Spain thanks to a very good PR job done internationally by the forces of independence. Spain's judicial system has been dubbed as undemocratic and the country's image has a lot to lose. It's rather ironic that countries around Europe who hardly allow separatist parties, call Spain undemocratic. Let me give you a few examples of their practices which are stricter than Spain's yet Spain is given the label of undemocratic while they are supposedly pillars of democracy. Wrong my friends, wrong. Spain is as democratic or more than most of them. The problem is we have the heritage of Franco's times which never goes away. The UK for example suspended autonomy for Ulster at least 4 times and will never let the two Ireland's become one nation. Germany's politicians appoint judges, Germany refused a referendum in Bavaria because it is unconstitutional, Holland recently has a similar problem with a region that wants independence and the government took back its autonomy. In Belgium the judges are appointed by the King. In France, the only official language is French; no other language is allowed to be co-official in a region. But, as you see, the language oppressors are Spanish, not French. There are only 3 countries in the world that contemplate in their constitution the breaking up of a region to become independent. They are Liechtenstein, as if that could ever happen there, Ethiopia and the small Caribbean island of Saint Cristobal. Now do you call Spain undemocratic? I do wish the Spanish government could do a better job of defending its democracy vs the Catalan government who are doing a great job at tainting Spain's democracy in the eyes of the wold.
Enough of politics, not my favourite subject I can tell you but the Catalan issue sometimes gets my blood boiling as does Brexit.
The highlight of the day was our walk in glorious sunshine with the sheep in the distance. It was lovely to find a belated birthday card in the post box when I came home. It was from my new found friend, Joanna who is a teacher in Lancashire. We became friends when she was my Airbnb guest here in January. Her daughter, Elisa, who is on her Erasmus year here, would be coming to see us on Saturday because she wanted to meet our dogs and go for a walk with us. I looked forward to meeting her. Dog lovers are my favourite kind of people. It's funny too how her mother and I have made such friends. That's the beauty of Airbnb.
Entertainment that night was an amazing documentary on some minor TV channel about a young woman in Alabama who gave birth to sextuplets! We stayed up to watch it until the very end. How on earth have they coped I wonder?
Thursday came and it was, yes, you guessed, St. Valentine's Day. It was to be memorable day for me with a eureka moment which I will tell you about shortly.
I had a break with the biography and joined Eladio on a trip to buy honey. That may sound odd but if you don't know Eladio, honey is his favourite sweet food. He only likes the purest kind, not to be found in supermarkets. We usually buy it near Montrondo but had run out. He found a small shop in Las Rozas specializing in pure honey and off we went. It took us a while to findt but eventually we did. Eladio bought 5 huge jars. I bought a can of excellent olive oil. On our way home we went to the new BM supermarket to stock up on oranges and some fruit and veg as we didn't go to the open market in Villaviciosa this week.
I came home to continue with the biography. I was nearly at the end but I had a couple of blanks or more on my father's ancestors. Who was his father's mother and who was a mysterious "Uncle David" or David John Collins who had been awarded the order of the white elephant from the King of Siam in 1897? My Father had always told us about his medals but I had never listened and he could no longer remember. . However I wanted to persevere. and among his things was one of the medals and a few parchments related to the them as well as a very interesting letter from the said Uncle David including a reference to Lord Salisbury. I suspected he was the brother of the mother of my Grandfather whose middle name was Collins.
Meanwhile, my dear friend and my parents' ex pupil, Andrew D had written to me telling me he wanted to do a family tree of my mother for my father's 100th. I was very grateful but said right now I was concentrating on my father's biography and would he please do a tree of my father's family instead. He set about it immediately.
In about half an hour he had found out so many things I was dumbstruck. He used sites such as ancestry.com and find my past. Soon he was constructing the said tree. He found out in no time that my father's paternal grandmother was called Marian Margaret Collins who was born in the Raj, Delhi in 1862 and that her parents were Irish, John from Tralee and Sarah from Celbridge. Wow, so I have Irish great great grandparents. Would that warrant me being able to get an Irish passport I wondered with Brexit blooming? He found many more of my father's ancestors and has now become my official genealogist for the biography. The tree is growing and as I write has 284 people in it, 95 photos and 110 public records. I am so impressed and grateful. I could never have done this alone.
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| The beginnings of our family tree |
I also asked him to find the certain David John Collins, the uncle of my father's who had won a medal in former Siam. In no time Andy actually traced him and found out he found out was the sister of Marian Margaret Collins, my father's grandmother. Thus Uncle David was my father's great uncle. He even traced a mention to the Order of the White Elephant bestowed on him by the King of Siam and sent me a clipping from the London Gazette which you can read below. The Queen mentioned in the clipping is none other than Queen Victoria.
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| Reference to the mysterious David John Collins and his white elephant medals from the King of Siam (now Thailand) |
Finally the mystery of Uncle David's white elephant medals from Siam (Thailand) was solved.
That was my eureka moment on St. Valentine's day.
Another eureka moment came when Andy also found out the name of the town of the first parish where my grandfather, Revd. John Collins Lloyd first became a curate after entering Holy Orders. He was from Anglesey and it was in a town, also in Wales in Llanfairpwl. The real name is impossibly long and unpronounceable. It is officially called: Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch. I looked it up and found out it is the longest place name in Europe and the second longest in the world. It means, by the way; St. Mary's Church in the Hollow of the White Hazel near a Rapid Whirlpool. I had always thought my grandfather's first parish was in Shrewsbury but on Wednesday I learned it was in this long named town in Wales. What a find. It must have been here he needed his Welsh bible, the one we have at home.
I told my father all this at lunchtime and he was pretty amazed. . In the morning I had written out a new set of questions to ask my father at lunch to add to his biography. After lunch I said "I'm sorry Daddy for badgering you with all these questions. He replied "oh, not at all, I like being badgered" bless him. Later he asked me if I had any more questions? I do so love him.
Meanwhile, it being Valentine's Day, Olivia had been sent by her programme to do a report on the largest red rose green house in Europe where they cultivate the most prized rose in the world, the Red Naomi. It is located in the town of Garray in the province of Soria. It must have smelled lovely. I asked her to bring me some back as I didn't get any flowers from my husband for St. Valentines. I never do.
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| Oli at the biggest red rose green house in Europe on St .Valentines Day - Garray in Soria |
My husband didn't buy me flowers, but he did take me out to dinner. We went happily to one of our favourite restaurants, La Txitxarrería (try and pronounce that hahaha) where we were welcomed and ushered to our usual table. We spoke about our girls, our love, our lives and I spoke to him a lot about my memories as a girl living in Yorkshire. My mind is on those memories so much after writing my father's book which has become a passion. I'm such a passionate person aren't I?
Eladio is encouraging me and but doesn't get so excited. When I heard it seems that the said Uncle David is buried in the protestant cemetery in Bangkok, I told him we must visit it. He laughed out loud saying what interest could there be in going so far to see the tomb of such a distant relative? Well, I suppose it does sound crazy, yet it doesn't to me. I don't think we'll ever go but I'd love to.
We came home to see Andy our lodger having dinner in the kitchen. I opened Anne's St. Valentine's Fazer chocolate and we all had a piece, well I had two pieces actually. Alba and Javier, my weekly guests had arrived but I didn't see them.
It was difficult to sleep as I was all revved up with Andy's findings and on Thursday woke up at 5 in the morning. I promptly got up, fed the dogs, had a quick breakfast and returned to my desk to continue my work.
Friday came and Andy unraveled more mysteries. I needed the maiden name of my Father's maternal grandmother, known to him as Bessy Scull. She turned out to be Elizabeth Walters. It's amazing the job Andy is doing and I am so grateful. He still has to unearth a few more people - he is going back to the early 1800's but one person I needed him to find is alive. She is my Father's cousin Angela, born to his mother's sister Gwendoline. I have a vested interest in knowing where she lives as apparently she has included a grandfather clock in her will for me. He finally traced her and she is still alive but must be 95 or so. I shall be writing to her soon.
I took a break from the biography to have a long whatsapp video call with Suzy. Eladio joined and it was lovely to see her even if she is so far. We talked about her coming home for the summer and she is. She also promised to join me at this year's cousinade in France. I do hope Oli can come too. Apart from her lessons, she has taken to singing as I wrote above. Well that day she sent us the most divine photo of her singing with her heart and soul. Isn't she just marvelous?
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| Suzy singing with her band, singing with her heart and soul. Love her. |
Meanwhile Oli was filming for report on the last pig in Spain able to smell and find truffle. Amazing. I'm dying to see the report. She does have to cover a variety of subjects, hahaha.
The big news in Spain on Friday was that Pedro Sánchez the incumbent PM who took office last June did call for General Elections. After losing support for the budget for 2019 and problems with the Catalan issue, he has had no other option. The elections will be on 28th April. I am sure the outcome will be a coalition government of the right formed by PP, Ciudadanos and the ultra right wing party VOX. This is all down to mathematics. No doubt Pedro Sanchez socialist party the PSOE will win overall but won't get enough seats, even counting the other left wing parties, to govern. And no doubt too the Catalans will regret not having backed his budget as Spain will be ruled by the right wing parties who will stand no nonsense from them. But that was their decision.
Believe it or not I finished(or thought I had finished) the biography on Friday afternoon and sent off the final manuscript to my friend and editor, Amanda. I can't believe I have actually written a book. I feel elated and very excited. Now I am wondering what people's reactions will be. My final manuscript is only the beginning of what will be an arduous journey with lots of editing, type setting, etc but the most important job is done; the writing of the full content.
The rest of the day finished as usual, walk, dinner and bed and boy was I tired after finishing the biography and having got up at 5 in the morning.
Saturday came and I realised I had abandoned a lot of my duties. First I had to do my French homework - the damned subjunctive - which took me an hour. Then I had to rush out with Eladio to get some food for lunch and come back to prepare it and then be ready for the lesson. I saw Oli briefly during the lesson but sadly she didn't stay for lunch.
In the afternoon I was helping Andy with information for the family tree and meanwhile my new found Airbn friend, Joanna, a teacher of French and Spanish by the way, was in Anglesey where my grandfather was born. She was visiting her sister who lives there. Joanna is very interested in my father's story, so interested that she even went to visit his old home in Holyhead on 19 Aldersley Terrace that day. As the house is on sale, she was able to go in. She described it to me later as a large 5 bedroom 3 story house with lots of original fixtures, such as the tiles and the banister. The house has views of the sea and the ferry terminal where my great grandfather William Fox Lloyd worked and is a short walk to the beach. She sent me lots of photos. This is just one. I shall have to visit Anglesey too one day. Maybe this summer?
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| My grandfather's old house in Anglesey which Joanna went to visit on Saturday |
While Joanna was in Anglesey visiting my grandfather's house and surroundings, her daughter Elisa came to join us for our walk. It's a small world isn't it? Her daughter is doing her Erasmus year at the local University. She's a great lover of dogs and walks and so wanted to meet us and join us on our walks.
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| Elisa on the walk with us and the dogs on Saturday |
She's a lovely girl from just outside Manchester with a slight Lancashire accent and is warm and welcoming as most people are from the north of England. We got on like a house on fire and chatted non stop from beginning to end. Poor Eladio was left completely abandoned. The walk with Elisa was a great end to the week and I hope she comes again.
Today is Sunday and I have come to the end of the tales of my week. I said at the beginning that it wasn't as exciting as the week before but I was wrong. It was one of the most exciting weeks in my life, the week I finished writing a book!!!
So my friends, I must leave you now to get on with the day which, although is Sunday, promises to be busy.
Tara then for now and until next week.
("Tara is Welsh for goodbye but it is also used in the north of England, at least I remember it being used there from my years in Yorkshire).
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