Palm Sunday, Suez Canal reopens, Torimbia beach in Asturias, Juliet is coming, a funeral, the Ickenham connection, I got my first anti Covid jab and other stories.

Easter Day, Sunday 4th April 2021

Photo just after my first jab on Friday.  What a moment. 

Good morning everyone and Happy Easter if you celebrate it. We do, more out of tradition than anything else. Besides, it's always nice to have something to celebrate during the pandemic. Oh the damned pandemic. I can't wait for it to go. This week, as every week since more than a year ago, I follow the figures for global infections and death and they are grim. Last Sunday the total numbers for infections and death were 123.488.430 and 2.789.920. Today the figures stand at 131.394.182 and 2.859.650. In Spain we are seeing figures increasing but slowly. In France, Italy, Turkey, Poland and to a lesser extent, Germany, the figures are dire. France and Italy have gone back into strict lockdown. Happily though, as you will read, most unexpectedly I got my first vaccine jab this week. I should be pleased. I am, except that I would have far preferred another vaccine to AstraZeneca. But that's another subject. 

If today is Easter Day, last Sunday was "Palm Sunday". It passed by with not much to report on. I do remember as  a child getting excited at church when we were given a palm leaf. Eladio and I both remember too that one Palm Sunday we were in Chile, at the seaside town of Renaca on the Pacific Coast near Valparaiso where we bought a beautiful palm leaf. We kept it for years but I don't know where it is now. I also remember a more colourful Palm Sunday in Granada on a trip to Andalucía and Gibraltar with my father in 2008. That day we were travelling to Granada and stopped on the way for lunch at a marvelous luxury hotel nestled in olive tree groves called "La Bobadilla" (near Loja). I have a photo of my father and I to remember that much more remarkable Palm Sunday in 2008.

With my father in 2008 on our Easter holiday trip in Andalucia. 

I'll never forget when we reached Granada that the whole city was dominated by the first Easter Procession called "La Boriquilla" (little donkey). Spain's Easter processions are world famous. I don't like them when they are crowded but when they aren't they are a sight for sore eyes. Sadly, because of the pandemic, they were suspended last year and this year too. 

The Palm Sunday procession as seen by me in Granada in 2008

The only procession we saw that day was little Elliot on his tricycle. That day he started using the pedals for the first time as you can see in this video. 

Elliot using pedals for the first time. Last Sunday at home

Oli and family left just before lunch and after our glorious sunny walk. Our long term guest, Felipe, was out too and the house was quiet afterwards. I quickly rustled up a dish of chicken curry for lunch and left him a bowl for his dinner which he said was delicious. It was. Eladio says it was just as good as any curry he has ever had at an Indian restaurant but it's only really a made up recipe by me, just quasi Indian. We both remember eating curry every day on our trip to India in 2008 and being very disappointed. The curries in India that we had were full of bones and far too hot for our taste buds. My first taste of curry ever was in what is now known as the curry capital of England - Bradford in West Yorkshire where we used to live. It was at the first curry house ever in Bradford and the UK and was called The Kashmir. This year it is celebrating its 70th anniversary. I would love to go again one day. It was housed right next to the city's mortuary and there were all sorts of jokes about the meat content. There were there types available ranging from the mild Korma to the medium mild Madras and then the extra hot Vindaloo. I always went for the Korma and my brother George always chose Vindaloo. There was no cutlery and I learned to eat curry the Indian way with chapatis (thin Indian bread). I still eat it that way today.  There would always be a huge jug of water on the table to soften the effects of the hot curry and when I tried the hotter versions I drank copious amounts of the water. In the 6th form at St. Joseph's Catholic College in Bradford a group of us would often go there for lunch. I remember very vividly how Jackie Mosley (daughter of Brian Mosley who played Alf Roberts in Coronation Street) found a cockroach in her track suit trousers when we returned. The Kashmir was not known for its hygiene but oh my how wonderful their food was. 

After our curry it was time for a siesta and I needed one. I woke at 5 pm - so late - but on time for my weekly Sunday Facetime call with Kathy and Phil who live in Yorkshire. Lucky them as they have a huge choice of curry houses to go to. Not so here in Madrid. We spoke for 2 hours long until my iPad warned me I only had 10% battery left. They were looking forward to the first step of coming out of lock down when on Monday up to 6 people out of your bubble were allowed to meet outdoors in England. We are far away from coming out of lock down here in Spain although "house arrest" as I call it here, is nowhere near as strict as last year.

By the time we had chatted until we had no more to say, I watched about 15 minutes of Outlander and then went down to make our dinner. It was a healthy choice of grilled hake with garlic and some left over Brussel sprouts and runner beans. That night we watched a film both of us were interested in. It was about the current pope or rather his life before he became Pope. The production was Argentinian and maybe biased in his favour but we loved it. Called Francis Pray For Me, "The story narrates the life of Jorge Mario Bergoglio (Darío Grandinetti), the man who would later become Pope Francis in the perspective of a Spanish journalist named Ana (Silvia Abascal), who first met the future pope at the 2005 Papal conclave, until the naming of Bergoglio as pope at the 2013 Papal conclave". 

Our choice of film last Sunday night - Palm Sunday

We loved every minute of it. Of course Father George is described in a very good light but then again I really do think he is a very good man and the best Pope the Vatican could have in these modern days. No doubt he would love to do more to modernise the church but that cannot be easy. I suppose it was a fitting film to be broadcast on Palm Sunday. 

I was awake at 7.55 on Monday morning which was of course 6.55 still for me. It meant too that I was robbed of an hour of the new day. On Monday the biggest news was the unblocking of the huge 400 metre long Japanese container ship, the Ever Given, on the Suez Canal where it had been stuck for more than a week. 

The Ever Given container ship when it was blocked. 

Being the busiest passageway in the world, hundreds of ships were waiting to pass through and others made a round turn and headed for the longer rout via The Cape of Good Hope.  What a nightmare for merchant shipping. Thank God it is over but there will be repercussions and the "knock-on effect to global shipping could take weeks or even months to resolve" according to the BBC where I got this information. 

Monday was a special day for my countrymen in the UK. It was the second stage in the lifting of restrictions. From that day as you can see from the photo below, up to 6 people from 2 households could meet outdoors, outdoor sports was resumed and travel outside the local area was allowed but without overnight stays. I was happy for my countrymen. I hope the lockdown easing goes to schedule and British tourists can once again go on holiday abroad this summer. 

We had a quiet sunny day with temperatures reaching 22c. Our walk was a delight and we are seeing more and more signs of spring, notably in lots of pretty wild flowers. Apart from the walk I only went out on a few errands to the chemist to get more clinical bandaging - some sophisticated type made of silicone which doesn't stick to the skin - for my father's leg which needs changing every 48 hours. I also went to Mercadona - the ubiquitous low cost supermarket chain here in Spain. Our local branch was closing on 31st March so that would be my last visit there. From now on we have to go to another branch in Boadilla. It's far bigger and I still get lost going around the aisles.

I had a bit of a high that morning when Oli told me a photo I had sent in to her programme, "La Hora de la 1" had been selected for a competition for the best photo of landscape or nature in Spain.  This is the Twitter link where you can see the photos chosen. I sent in 3 and this was the one they chose. It's of a stunning beach in Asturias called "Torimbia" famous for being a nudist beach. I took the photo when we were there at the end of October and the beach was completely empty.

My photo selected by Oli's programme for a photo competition.

Do you like it? My friend Amanda, commented it looked a lot like Scotland. Asturias does in a way with an equally dramatic coast line but better weather I would add. It's the cliffs that are so stunning and the combination of golden sandy beaches all surrounded by green. It's so back to nature. This particular beach is a hidden away gem and only accessible on foot. Maybe that's why it became popular with nudists. I have never gone nude on a beach but would love to. I'm not sure Eladio agrees. As it's quite near our new house in Asturias I know we will be going back either to swim, or just for the views and a marvelous walk or maybe to go nude. Who knows? 

Interestingly and to my merit Oli never told her colleague running the competition that I had sent in photos. So when colleagues recognised my surname and asked  whether I was her mother, she said yes but that she had had nothing to do with it. Maybe I will be penalised now for being connected to her. It was just nice to have that photo selected. Lovely beach. I can't wait to go back there again. I am missing Asturias and missing travel. 

Oli joined us for lunch as she had her monthly appointment with the gynecologist in the early afternoon. She is now into her 17th or 18th week so the ultrasound scan would be able to reveal the gender of our new grandchild. In her last scan the doctor thought it looked like "it" would be a girl but it wasn't until this Monday that she could confirm it. Half way through our siesta we got word that Juliet is coming. We also got the "photo" of the ultrasound. I never understand them but treasure them as they are proof all is going well.

Juliet is coming. 

Isn't that wonderful?  Oli and Miguel will be having a girl and sister for Elliot. Oli wanted a girl. We didn't mind so long as "it" is healthy. Juliet is coming on 1st September if all goes to plan. Oli always loved the name of Juliet. Her first friend at pre school was called Juliet so now she can name her new baby after her. I like the name Juliet in English but do not like the Spanish version as much - "Julieta" -  because of the "J" (called jota) which is pronounced like a very hard "h". But what a lucky daughter I have, I thought. She has a great job, a great partner, a lovely baby, a new baby to look forward to and also a new house. Her position is enviable and I am happy for her and her family. I wish I could say the same about my equally adored daughter, Suzy, far away in Costa Rica and not at all settled. Will she ever I wonder? All I really want is for her to be happy. The trappings don't matter. 

She was on my mind most of the afternoon and evening. She had had a small accident - walking barefoot - and had injured her big toe. I had to help with her health policy and they were slow. Thankfully by the end of the day they were in touch with her and the toe would be sorted at a local clinic by a kindly Cuban doctor.  

Once again I turned to the TV series Outlander, for pure evasion. I was loving it though and might well watch it all over again from the beginning. My Monday skype call with Amanda was postponed until Tuesday. Eladio, being more practical than me, turned to the garden for his escapism by mending a leak in the irrigation system and mowing the front lawn. I should have been more productive but wasn't. It's this damned pandemic.

Tuesday came and the weather held with temperatures rising a degree more  to 23ºc. Wow, that's so lovely. If only it hadn't changed for the worse on Thursday when my Airbnb group was coming for Easter. 

Tuesday was a very sad day. It was the day the girls' best friend Elenita' brother died. Jesús  was diagnosed with brain cancer just a year and a half ago. He was only 37 or 38. So cruel. He and the family have been through hell but not back. He had been sedated for 3 weeks before his death on Tuesday. It's a terrible time to die but at least his wife was able to be with him. As to his parents and sisters Elena and Chati they could only see him for 10 minute intervals and dressed in full PPE outfits but of course he didn't even know who they were.    I know what the girls will be going through now as I lost my own brother, George aged 46 to cancer - melanoma - in 2001. That is 20 years ago. It's useless to tell them that time heals. It doesn't. It just numbs the pain. You never forget. You can't forget and I don't want to forget. In a way my brother lives on in my heart. That's the only comfort I have.  I know what an awful period this will be for them but I cannot begin to imagine what it will be like for his parents. For parents to be outlived by their offspring is something they can never accept. I just can't envisage myself in their position. If I lost one of my girls I would go mad with grief and part of me would die. RIP. I am so sorry for your loss. 

So, yes Tuesday was a very sad day. But I had good and unexpected news that morning. I was quite surprised to receive an SMS message from the local health authorities giving me an appointment for my vaccine. Yes, "my vaccine".  

The most important message I will get this year I think or one of them. 

I immediately clicked on the message to confirm and saw my appointment was for this Thursday at 18.27 at the brand new emergency Covid hospital Isabel Zendal. I was happy to see that vaccinations were being carried out over the Easter holidays. 

Confirmation of my vaccine

Vaccinations are ramping up in Spain, finally, after  1 million doses of the Pfizer and Moderna vaccines arrived in Spain and another  million arrived later from AstraZeneca. I knew before anyone told me that I would be getting the problematic AstraZeneca vaccine as the age for its administration had gone up from 55 to 65 and I am 64. People older than that get Pfizer or Moderna. So why hasn't my husband got his? Well, he is in a different system as he was a civil servant and will be either called for his first vaccine by them (mutualistas) or he will be vaccinated together with my father at home as on paper, he is my father's carer.  My father had his first dose on 2nd March and did not go for the second jab 3 weeks later as we put him on the list to have his dose at home. We just can't take him by car for fear of him getting hurt again after he got a terrible bruise which turned into full blown necrosis. So for now it's just me getting the vaccine. Of course I wanted it but I was hesitant about the Anglo Swedish vaccine for all the troubles reported. The latest came that day as both Germany and Canada suspended its use. In Germany alone there were 31 cases of thrombosis and 9 people died - mostly women. That' something to look out for. And yesterday 7 deaths were reported in the UK. In any case, I was pleased that at last I would have my jab but I did have my reservations. 

In my weekly call with Amanda which we had on Tuesday, I had lots of news to share. My dear friend, shielding with her husband in Devon, had less news but it was wonderful to have someone to share my trials, tribulations and joys with..

Wednesday was a sad day too when I accompanied Olivia to the funeral of Elena's brother, Jesús.  I went to pay my respects but also to represent Suzy my other daughter who is Elena's best friend. They met at University and are very close. Suzy was devastated to hear the news so I had to go on her behalf. Before going I went to buy some flowers to add to the many many other wreaths that would be at the cemetery in Villanueva de la Cañada.

Flowers for Jesús

It was a very sad gathering I found. I wanted to give my condolences to Elenita, her sister Chati and parents Elena and Fernando. There were no words to give them any relief. Although it wasn't allowed I hugged them tightly as I accompanied them on the worst day of their life. Oli arrived shortly afterwards and was as distraught as me. The worst image was seeing the mother crying over her son's coffin. There can be nothing worse than losing a child, whatever his or her age.  That's why it was so tragic on Tuesday. As Covid protocol dictates we were all outside and with masks on. I cried for the family, for Jesús but also for my own brother George. Tuesday brought it all back. 

We left the sad dwindling gathering at about 1 pm to go home for lunch which I had prepared before leaving. In the afternoon we were joined by the rest of Oli's family and it was a tonic to have little Elliot with us. It was  a sunny day and we were out most of the time. Here he is on the swings, the swings which used to be the girls. We bought them when they were 3 and 4. Here are Oli and Elliot on her swings that day.

Swing time with Mummy 

Later Oli and Miguel went off to sign the preliminary contract for their new flat (exciting) and we looked after Elliot. He made a beeline for his favourite book, "The very hungry caterpillar". I'm sorry Juliet will inherit such a dog eared version hahahha. We gave him his dinner while watching Peppa Pig and as always, he ate every morsel given. He has a great appetite. Soon he was whisked away from us as Oli had to be up early on Maunday Thursday for her job as a TV presenter. We would see them on Friday night and on Easter Day. 

Of note the proof of my father's book arrived from my London based publisher. I was a bit disappointed as the quality is not as good as mine - the one I self printed and the flaps are missing. I would have to talk to them. But no doubt if they improve the quality the street price will go up. 

I didn't sleep well that night. I had no real reason not to but I had a lot on mind. So I was up late on Thursday, at 8 am and nearly missed Oli on the TV. It was April Fools' Day but it passed without notice for me.  I was happy to see I had a sudden reservation for Easter on Booking for our flat in Santa Pola. That's my first reservation with Booking as up till recently I only used Airbnb. The guests were local of course. I had to organise their arrival as soon as possible and thanks to our neighbour there, Lucy, all would be ready. We too would be busy at home getting ready for 4 local guests coming to stay at our house. I can't wait for the world to go back to normal which will bring more bookings. Right now in Spain people can only travel locally. 

Thankfully I had Lucy to do most of the donkey work. Mine consisted of arranging flowers, welcome notes, water, chocolates, etc in the rooms and supervising all was ready for their arrival. We had time for our walk before they came at just after 13h. They seemed a pleasant group. I showed them their rooms and the ropes  and they were soon off again to get food for their stay. I hardly saw them again after their arrival.

You will probably wonder why I have included "remembering Ickenham" in my headline this week. Well, that's a story in itself and one I have written about often. What was different this time was that I got in contact with the village Facebook group. I was hoping to find people who remembered my father's family who died in a terrible air crash on 23rd May 1971. You will have read about Gloria, my father's sister, her husband Derek and my cousins Jacqueline, Michael and Antony aged 12, 9 and 7. This year will be the 50th anniversary of the tragedy. They were our only closest family as my mother's family lived abroad and Gloria and my father had lost their other sibling, Raymond, to polio in 1938 aged 16. Thus they so meant so much to us. My father and I are their only living close relations as Derek, my uncle, was an only child. If you haven't read about it before here is a link to one of my posts. In 2016 I visited the village, their house and their grave which you can read about here. They lived in Ickenham and as a child I spent every Christmas there with them and my grandparents until the year they died.  We also spent many an Easter and summer holiday too at their home in Ickenham, a village very close to my heart.  Ickenham which is quite affluent now is in Middlesex, not far from London. Recently a friend of Michael's wrote to me and reminded me that this year was the 50th anniversary. In turn I wrote to the church to arrange to send flowers on the day.    That got me thinking there must be many people who remember my cousins and even my aunt and uncle.  And God blow me I found them on the village Facebook page on Thursday. I wrote a simple message asking if anyone remembered them. The replies came in fast. It was amazing to hear from Michael's best friend, Peter M and from Tim, Antony's friend who lived nearly next door to my grandparents at 17 Hoylake Crescent and others.  But above all I wanted to hear from friends of my oldest cousin Jacqueline as she was 12 and nearest my age - I was 14 at the time. And, I found her.  I hope Sally won't mind my reproducing her message here: 

Yes Jacqueline was a dear friend. Our mothers had introduced us to each other before we started at Hillingdon Court convent together. We used to walk home from school together, through the old air force base in Uxbridge eating crab apples off the trees in the Autumn. Jacqueline was a kind and gentle soul. She came to our house on the day that they were leaving to get a stamp for a letter.

It was hard when she died, such a shock.

I put a rose in their grave last Christmas and gave it a brush.

Jacqueline would be 62 now. Jan 18

Sally and I are now in touch outside the group and I was very happy to receive from her a photo of my cousins, Jacqueline and Michael in their garden in 1970 or 1971. Sally told me Jacqueline was wearing her school jumper - They both went to a Catholic school (like me) after Breakspear - the local school. It was called Hillingdon Court Convent. I was young at the time but remember talks between my father and his sister about Jacqueline's education and the suitability of a Catholic Grammar school - after all they were very Anglican.  I think the fact that I myself was at a Convent school must have swayed them. It went ahead but of course Jacqueline was there for only a short time, but time enough to become close friends with Sally who has never forgotten her.

The photo of my cousins, Jacqueline and Michael in their garden in 1970 or 1971 that Sally sent me. 

Another person, Jenny, sent a photo from the  the junior school (Breakspear) which I was told was taken in the summer of 1970. It was Sally who found Jacqueline (on the left, third row back and third in).

Breakspear School (Ickenham) Summer of 1970

I got many messages and this one from Boo was really quite extraordinary:

My name is Boo and for many years I lived in Ivy House Road in Ickenham. My mum is nearly 91 and is still living at no 35. I am pretty sure I was in the same class as Michael at Breakspear school. All the mums in that era were very friendly and supportive of one another. The lady who lived next door to Gloria was called Audrey who was often popping in to see our mum. I still have a clear memory of that fateful evening, when Audrey came down to mum realising that the family was on that flight. I asked mum yesterday if she remembered the Orchard family. She said of course, we were in the same bubble ! Masha, I have an incredibly poignant memory, that obviously to this day I will never forget. Before Gloria and the family went away she gave mum Jackie’s summer Breakspear school dresses for me as she was changing schools or had outgrown them. They had Jackie’s name sewn into the dresses. I remember walking home from school the day after the accident and another little girl I often walked home with said to me. I am glad they are all in heaven together. Although I am a non believer these days, as children we took great comfort from those thoughts. I am glad so many people had such fond memories of the family, Kind regards.

All this was very coincidental as apparently the church was looking for me too, to explore ways of remembering the family this year. Someone posted this message on the group page: 

The Church of St. Giles in Ickenham was looking for me and I found them

The messages continued pouring in. It's amazing how this village has never forgotten. It is also enormously comforting to me to know there are people out there who still think about my father's family and not just my father and I. This was very comforting and very moving.  The church has asked me to contribute to the next edition of their magazine which I look forward to. For my part I have suggested we hold a belated 50th anniversary memorial next year when I can travel and the pandemic is over. The tragedy happened on 23rd May 1971 and it has never gone away.

That's all I could think about on Thursday afternoon and evening although I went through the motions of daily life; not that I was very busy that day. 

Friday came; Good Friday and I got out the hot cross buns I had made weeks ago.  It rained that day but not when we went for our walk. Being Friday we walked to the nearest cafe and had a coffee with a "porra" - well me, not Eladio. Thus I wasn't very hungry at lunchtime.

My first vaccine appointment was at 18.27 that evening and we left at 17.30 as the Enfermera Zendal emergency Hospital is about 40km from home. It is near the airport and the Real Madrid practice grounds. I couldn't believe the queues when we got there at 6pm.

Queuing up for my vaccine

I think I queued for an hour and a quarter for a two or three second jab which didn't hurt. We were told to use our left arm if we were right handed. That's because the arm can get sore after the jab  and it's better not to have the pain in the right arm.  I then had to queue for registration and was given instructions for the next time - in 10 to 12 weeks. That's one of the disadvantages of the Anglo Swedish vaccine - one of many. The others, Pfizer and Moderna, have only a 3 week period in between jabs and immunity kicks in far quicker. I waited for a while afterwards in case I felt ill but I didn't. I did though see other people having bad reactions. I kept waiting for side effects such as a strong headache and sore arm but all seemed ok. Eladio was waiting outside and obliged me by taking the photo that illustrates this blog. It's the photo of the year that records a very historic moment. I was happy to see the vaccine roll out live and the new massive vaccine centres. The queues told me that. I was happy too that vaccine took place over Easter. Yesterday the figure for those vaccinated in Spain was just over 12%. There is a long way to go to reach the figure in the UK where over 47% of the population have had their jabs.My experience on Saturday though showed me there is light at the end of the tunnel. 

From the Zendal hospital we drove to Oli and Miguel's flat to have dinner with them. It was a delight to see Elliot who was having his dinner. Eladio sat next to him and helped him eat - not difficult hahahahaa. They also played with his giant Lego bricks. 

Eladio and Elliot on Friday evening

We had a pleasant dinner our hosts had made and were soon sitting down at their dining room table. Our conversation was mostly about the decor of their new house. Here are Eladio and Oli, father and daughter waiting for dinner to start.

Father and daughter at dinner on Friday night

We left shortly after 10 pm and came home to a dark house except for the lounge where our guests were playing video games. As I got undressed, I looked in awe at the little bandage on my arm. There was proof of the vaccine and all that it means in the fight against Covid. I got my dear husband to take a photo to record that moment too.

Proof of my jab - the little bandage on my left arm after the vaccine. 

We were soon in bed and watching rubbish on the TV and soon too fell asleep. I woke up yesterday just after 7 am to a very quiet house. You wouldn't believe there were 9 people sleeping in it. I kept looking out for side effects from the vaccine, especially the dreaded headache as I am a headache sufferer. I did feel aches and pains in the afternoon and at night which still haven't gone away. I hope they do soon.

Saturday was shopping day and "coffee time" out at the Manacor cafe. Lunch was steak and chips - a favourite and easy to make. I continued receiving messages from the Ickenham village group, even from the Vicar, who is a lady - I bet Aunty Gloria would be pleased about that. We watched the semi final of a children's talent show for classical music and dancing; "Prodigios" which ended really late. I should have been able to sleep after that but found it difficult. I had been deeply impressed and affected by the people who wrote of their memories of my cousins and Aunt and Uncle and my mind was focused on trying to remember the childhood time I spent with them. Memories go fuzzy after 50 years. I must have dozed off at about 2 am and was up today at 7 am.

Today is Easter Day; a happy day it should be. It commemorates the resurrection of Jesus Christ, for those who believe. We shall celebrate it as we always do as a family. Oh how I would love to be transported back to St. Giles Church in Ickenham with my Auntie Gloria and family when she would take us there on Easter Day.

I will leave you now to get on with the day - I have two roast chickens to make  - and also see off our Airbnb guests. 

All the best then until next Sunday,

Masha