Colombia wins La Vuelta a España, Oli on holiday in Cantabria and Asturias, more Emma Bridgewater pottery, photos from my past, back to school, to Montrondo with friends, a wedding in the village and other tales of the week.

Sunday 18^th September 2016

With our guests in Montrondo beneath the lovely arc of flowers ready for the wedding on Saturday

Hi everyone

I am starting writing this week’s post from Montrondo.  It’s 6.30 on Friday morning and here I am in my little study with Pippa sitting on the sofa behind me. We got here yesterday when it rained all day and today our friends Gerardo and Irene and their spouses Vicky and Tomas will be joining us.  They are very special friends, my “Spanish family”, the “González Galvez” with whom I lived in Madrid in my year in Spain in 1978 when I was studying Spanish at Nottingham University.  I lived with that wonderful family for a year and in exchange for food and accommodation I was supposed to teach English to Gerardo and Irene who were then aged 14 and 11 roughly.  They took me into the bosom of their wonderful family and we have remained close ever since.  They were a fundamental part of my wedding.  Here is a photo of them all on that day when Gerardo junior was our driver in his Father Gerardo’s Seat 132, quite a luxury car for the times.  Irene and her sister Julieta were also my bridesmaids, along with my nieces Sara and Marta.

The González-Gálvez family with us on our wedding day on 21st August 1983.
Gerardo and Irene are on my right. 

This week I dug out some old photos of those times and here you have Gerardo and Toti his younger brother (7 at the time) in Galapagar where they had a country house we would go to at weekends.

Gerardo with Toti on his shoulders in Galapagar in 1978

Also at Galapagar is a photo of Pili, the mother with Julieta.

Pili and Julieta in Galapagar in 1978

I also found these photos of myself and of Irene, Julieta and Toti at their lovely flat in Madrid.  I think it was in 1979 just before I was going back to England.

At my "Spanish family's" flat in Madrid probably in the summer of 1979.  To the right, Julieta, Toti and Irene.

They were truly my Spanish family and this weekend is going to be one full of laughs remembering those times when for example the children would lift up my skirt, lock me in my bedroom or hide under the bed to avoid the English lessons hahaha.

But let me start at the beginning, from where I left off. It was last Sunday 11^th September, the anniversary of the worst terrorist attack in the history of the US. 

It was also the end of the Vuelta a España, one of the 3 big cycling tours.  It was to be the day for Colombia.  Nairo Quintana won theTour, his second great tour after winning the Giro in 2014.  Chris Froom came second and third in the podium was another Colombian, Esteban Chaves. With 2 Colombians on the podium, the country had raised the flag high for their country by winning the Tour of Spain for Colombia.

The winners of this year's Vuelta a España. 1st Nairo Quintana from Colombia, Chris Froom from the UK and Esteban Chaves from Colombia too.

Colombia is a country of cyclists, mostly climbers as they are the right size and weight for that type of cycling.  They are often called “escarabajos”, (beetles) and I can only imagine the commentators from Radio Caracol de Colombia or Radio Nacional de Colombia, going mad on the microphone when their countryman Quintana won the Tour of Spain for the first time since Lucho Herrera 29 years ago. 

When I used to go the cycling tours I knew the commentators from these famous Colombian radios and their style was very emotional.  I remember once lending them my Motorola phone to transmit the race as their signal had broken down.  We were great friends.  I also remember one of them at the start of one of the stages at The Tour of France.  He was in the portable toilet and didn’t realise it was being removed; literally being lifted up in the air and to quote him, “with his trousers down”.  This is an anecdote that has gone down in cycling history hahahaha.

Olivia and Miguel were just starting their holiday and on Sunday were in the region of Cantabria (near Santander), staying at a beautiful place on the coast called Cabezón de la Sal.  Here they are near the River Saja in Bárcena Mayor.

Oli and Miguel on holiday in Cantabria by the River Saja in Bárcena Mayor.

They wanted to explore the area and Sunday found them also in San Vicente de la Barquera, another nice town on that spectacular northern coast, still fairly unknown to the majority of tourists who always head south. 

Miguel and Oli on the beach in San Vicente de la Barquera this week

It was still hot in Madrid and in most of Spain that day. My friend Fátima came to visit. She coincided with Natasha, the Ukranian lady who was to care for my Father and the house whilst Salud was on holiday. She’s a nice lady but of course it’s not easy to get to know the ropes in such a big house in such a short time. 

Monday was a quiet day.  The highlight was the arrival of my latest Emma Bridgewater pottery order; more polka dot mugs and some plates to replace the ones our home helps have broken over the years.  Each time they break one my heart heaves as they can only be ordered from England and are very expensive.  But oh how I love my Emma Bridgewater collection.

My Emma Bridgewater order which arrived this week

Monday was when I started digging out photos from my past.  I noticed some of my Finnish friends posting photos of themselves when they were young on FB.  So I asked my Finnish friend Anne what it was all about. She told me it was a “throwback photo challenge” and challenged me.  This is the photo I came up with; one taken when I first came to live in Spain when Eladio and I lived secretly “in sin” in 1981 - it was not the done thing in Spain in those days.

Me aged 24 in Madrid in 1981 when I first came to live in Spain.

I was 24 there.  Everyone says Suzy my older daughter looks like me; perhaps she does, although I don’t see it. That photo was easy to find as it has been sitting in a frame at our house ever since it was taken all those years ago.  That spurred me on to look for more old photos from our albums of which we have over 30.  You see I was already taking lots of photos back then, albeit with a lousy “instamatic” camera.  It was a Kodak one. That much I remember. I wanted to find one of me outside our old house in Callosa de Ensarría which my Mother bought, I think in 1972.  And here it is. I am sitting in the street in a long skirt which I well remember wearing, with a stray kitten at my side that I had adopted.  It was so miserable and skinny we called it “Misery”.  My love for animals goes back to my childhood.

Me in Callosa outside our house with the kitten I adopted, Misery.  The Summer of 1978. I was just 21.  

As a child I was never allowed to have a cat or a dog. In revenge, today I have 3 dogs and 1 cat.  Thankfully I married a man who has the same passion for animals as I.

I found more photos of our Callosa Days and particularly like this one of my Father on a walk between Callosa and Bolulla.  Here he is in his 50’s looking very fit.

My very fit Father in his 50's in Callosa.  He was so happy there as we all were.

At lunch I showed him the photo.  He then reminded me that the first time he went to Callosa, he first went on a trip by train to Andalusia, visiting The Alhambra and Granada. He also told me he had climbed the famous mountain, El Pico del Veleta which is over 3.300m high. Boy was he fit in those days.  He used to walk everywhere and it is such a shame that now aged 97 he is immobile.

I also found a unique one of me with my brother George (RIP).  I don’t have many of the two of us together so was happy to come across this one. I think it was taken in Guadalest circa 1978.

A rare photo of me with my dear brother George (RIP).  Here possibly in Guadalest in about 1978.

All these photos of my past!  You are probably wondering why.  I wonder why too.  Now I am nearly 60, the past seems so important and I keep going back to it; to the places I used to go to and finding people from when I was young.  This week for example I was contacted by an Italian called Pasquale from Turin who used to attend the Norwich Russian courses where my parents and my Aunty Masha used to teach every summer at the University of East Anglia.  Pasquale came for quite a few years and we became fast friends.  My Mother adored him and my Father too. I even went to visit him with my school friend Maggie W. just after we finished “A” levels at St. Joseph’s College in the early 70’s.  I was just 18.  So when I got the message and then later an email it was amazing. I always love to find people from the past who were once important to me.  That’s the power of the internet and I am forever grateful for it. 

Tuesday came and it was shower time for my Father. It was a disaster as he fell in the shower.  Natasha didn’t really know how to bathe him despite having been shown by Salud and despite her having said she had looked after elderly people before. I just don’t believe her.  Thankfully Eladio came to the rescue but my Father had hurt the nail on his big toe.  I felt so sorry for him and cross with Natasha.  We were going away on Thursday and I was not happy with my Father being left alone with her.  Very kindly my dearest friend Fátima offered to stay whilst we were away which brought me great comfort.  My Father keeps asking when Salud is coming back and it is hard to explain that she is on holiday and that she deserves a break; like all workers in Spain and in the world.  I must say she is the best home help we have ever had.

I had a meeting that day in Madrid.  It was nice to dress up and get out of the house.  It was with my press agency and the head of press for Másmovil, the company which has bought Yoigo.  I was home just on time for lunch with the two men; Eladio and my Father.  Natasha’s cooking is not really up to scratch I’m afraid but then I didn’t expect it to be.  Even so it was eatable hahahaha.

Tuesday was also my oldest friend Amanda’s 60^th birthday.  She was my best friend at school and we have known each other since we were 11, meeting at St. Joseph’s College in Bradford in “1 Kappa”, our first class there.  I can hardly believe we are now nearly old women. 

Amanda outside our house in 6 Heaton Grove in 1974.  It's unbelievable to think she turned 60 this week!

We were very different.  Amanda came from a very English family and I came from a multi-cultured one. She was very good at school going on to study at Oxford and I was a pretty bad pupil and only began to pull up my socks in the 6^th form when it was too late to aspire to Oxbridge.  I did manage to get a place at Nottingham though.  On Wednesday we would have an hour long chat on the phone catching up on our lives.  She and Andy (ex BGS) live in Devon in a beautiful house on a cliff overlooking the sea.  I haven’t seen them since 2010.  It’s been too long.  We both agreed we must remedy that.

This week children in Spain were going back to school.  It’s called “la vuelta al cole”.  My friends were posting photos of their children going back to school after the holidays.  My girls are now aged 32 (Suzy) and 31 (Olivia) and I well remember their “vuelta al cole” each year to St. Michael’s school in Boadilla, a stone throw from where we lived.  Every September we would religiously take a photo of the two of them in their pristine uniform by the front door of our old house in Río Tajo in Boadilla ready for their first day at school after the summer holidays.  This is them in 1993 aged 8 and 9.

The girls "back to school" photo in September 1993. Suzy left was 9 and Oli right was 8. 

Those were very happy days and it’s amazing how fast time has gone by. I just wish I had realized that then and enjoyed those times more, rather than worrying about their homework or other silly things which usually end up sorting themselves out with no need for so much worry.

Wednesday was a funny day weather wise.  It was the first time it had rained in a long time.  The hot weather went just like that.  Thankfully the sun came out in the afternoon and we were able to sit outside with our books. The dogs as ever were at our feet. Here are the 3 of them playing together.

Our three lovely dogs: Elsa the lab, Pippa the mini dacshund and Norah the beagle

Meanwhile in London it was the hottest day in September on record; since 1911 I think I read. So when we told Suzy it was raining here we all found it quite ironic. The tables had turned.   Oli meanwhile was enjoying her holiday in Cantabria. That day they drove to Santander after a 12km run in the morning.

Oli running on holiday in Cantabria this week. 

They would have lunch in Santander and visit a zoo afterwards. Sometimes I have to censor myself in this blog and this is one occasion.  Olivia had very good professional news that day but unfortunately it is not official and I can’t say anything. All I can say is well done darling, I’m very proud of you as we all are. 

Wednesday saw them at some famous caves called “Cueva El Soplao”.  I have never heard of them but Olivia urged us to visit them one day as she says they are fantastic. Well we’ll have to take her up on that.  That day they moved to Asturias, one of my favourite provinces in Spain. They call it “Asturias Patria Querida”.  They went to stay at a spa hotel called Hotel Maria Manuela. That night we spoke on the phone and I asked her where she was. She had no idea and had to ask Miguel, the holiday planner hahaha.  The hotel is in a small village called Benia de Onis.  Asturias is famous for its cider and here they are having dinner that night and drinking cider out of a unique dispenser you only find in Asturias or in Asturian restaurants. It’s supposed to maintain the sparkle you see.

Oli enjoying cider in Asturias 

On Wednesday I made preparations for our trip to Montrondo, mostly food shopping as you know there is no shop or bar here. 

Thursday came and Eladio helped Natasha get my Father in and out of the shower, to my relief.  At 8 my friend Fátima arrived; she would be staying until we got back on Sunday.  I am so grateful to her. 

She brought her little dog, “Chispi” with her. We weren’t sure how our dogs would react but after 5 minutes or so of growling they were all fine. But it was Pippa and Chispi who were the happiest. They began to play soon after meeting and it was obvious they were to make good friends. Finally they both had a dog to play with of their own size hahaha. Here they are on Pippa’s blanket. Unfortunately for Chispi, Pippa would be leaving as we were taking her to Montrondo with us.

Chispi and Pippa made friends when they met this week.

I gave Fatima all the instructions on my Father’s day, when he gets up, his breakfast, coffee and tea times, etc.  I think Natasha was a bit put out at me giving the instructions to my friend instead of her, but I just didn’t trust her.  I felt very guilty as we left. 

We were in Rueda by 11 and of course stopped for the traditional break at Palacio de Bornos where we had the customary plate of ham accompanied by their delicious white wine.

Eladio at Palacio de Bornos in Rueda on our way to Montrondo on Thursday morning.

We got to Montrondo just after 2pm.  It was raining and would do so all day. Therefore there would be no walk.  We had a cursory lunch of “pelmeni”. I wasn’t at all hungry after the ham and wine at Rueda but Eladio was and asked if there was a tin of sardines! There wasn’t so he had a tin of tuna fish instead hahaha.

Both of us or rather the 3 of us (including Pippa) had a long siesta afterwards. It wasn’t my intention and I slept till 6.40. I felt like a zombie afterwards.  It was time for the food lorry to arrive so I put my sou'wester and wellington boots on and went out to find the van.  It was then that my neighbour Salo told me the owner, Gelo, was on holiday in Malta of all places.  I needed oranges for juice in the morning which I had forgotten to bring. Thus I would be going to Villablino on Friday morning to get them and probably more things too as Friday is market day there.  It’s a pity Dolores wouldn’t be here to go with me.

It's  wet outside today (Friday) but hopefully will rain less than yesterday, or, at least that’s what the weather forecast has predicted.  

A scene from Montrondo - wet yet beautiful on Friday morning

They have also predicted that on Saturday and Sunday the temperatures will go up and there will be sun and clouds and no rain.  I certainly hope they are right for the sake of Gerardo, Irene, Vicky and Tomas who are coming this evening.

Well very soon after I wrote that the sun came out.  As Eladio was reversing the car out of the old path to our house, I thought it would be a good idea to get a photo of the family houses whilst the old gate is still there.  There is talk of removing it and turning the lovely old barns into modern store places. I don't want to see that happening. Those gates as I've said time and time again are witness to the history of Eladio's family and it would be a shame to see them go.

The family plot, the old gates and new houses.

We were going to Villablino to the market.  We dressed in clothes for rain but it never came. In fact the day was beautiful.  Once in the town we went straight to the food stalls and there we bought a  home made meat and vegetable pie for dinner on Friday night, as well as the oranges we needed and some more fruit.  Eladio bought cheese as you can see in the photo below. We also bought some "cecina", a sort of smoked beef cut in thin slices a bit like the Italian braseola but much nicer. It is very typical of this province, León.

Eladio buying cheese at the market in Villablino

We came home to more sun so we opened up the terrace and cleaned the garden furniture ready for the arrival of our guests.  Lunch was home made lentils.

It was on Friday that Miguel and Oli moved from Benia de Anis to Andrín in Asturias. The latter is near the pretty village of Llanes.  

It has a beautiful little beach and I have always wanted to visit Andrín.  We will one day, I'm sure.

On the move too were Irene and Tomas.  They too, inspired by us, stopped at the Palacio de Bornos in Rueda on their way here, no doubt for some of their wonderful ham and wine. 

Tomas and Irene at the Palacio de Bornos winery in Rueda on their way to Montrondo on Friday

We would be waiting for them for our evening walk when they got here.  The weather was wonderful and I was really looking forward to it.

The good weather in Montrondo on Friday

In the meantime in Madrid, Fátima my friend was keeping me posted on how my Father was. She very kindly ate lunch with him each day and worked at my desk in our study where he watches the BBC World news every afternoon. She sent me this lovely photo of him watching the news with her little dog Chispi by his feet. It's such a nice photo.

My Father watching the BBC World news in our study. 

In London meanwhile Suzy was waiting for her boyfriend Telmo to arrive from Biarritz.  He was supposed to have flown out on Thursday but the Ryan Air flight was cancelled due to the French air traffic controllers strike.  I would only hear later that he finally arrived on Friday evening.  I hope they have a great weekend.

Tomas and Irene arrived her at just before 7 and once they had settled in, off we went for a long walk.  We took them on the path we had discovered in the summer that takes you to Murias via the fields and old paths through a lovely birch tree forest.

On our walk with Irene and Tomas on Friday evening.

It gets dark here half an hour later than Madrid which gave us more walk time. Gerardo and Vicky had set off later than Irene and Tomas but even so got here really fast; in just 3 hours - I hope they don't get a speeding fine hahahaha.  So when we got back they had already arrived and set off out of the village to meet up with us.  Now we were all together.

They had all brought lots of excellent wine some of which we would have around dinner.  For dinner I served a home made chicken noodle soup (sopa de cocido) with the meat and vegetable pie I had bought in Villablino, "cecina", cheese and fresh asparagus, all followed by local "reine claude" greengages. Here we are having dinner.

Dinner on Friday night with my "Spanish family"

We then had a long "sobremesa" which turned out to be a heated conversation around the table where we talked about the institution of marriage and how it is changing to the Catholic Church and all its wright but mostly wrongdoings according to Eladio who was very inspired that night. 

Meanwhile that night, outside in the dark sky, a super moon made its appearance.  It was amazing.

The super moon as seen in Montrondo on Friday night.

I had read there would be one that night and looked it up and found that it was being called "a spooky harvest moon"; a lunar eclipse which would not be repeated until 2024.  It was truly spectacular and very visible here possibly because there is zero pollution in this mountainous rural area. 

And today is Saturday and we have a whole day ahead of us to enjoy.  The weather promises to behave and no doubt we shall go on a walk up the mountains.  There will be a local wedding today.  My neighbour, Salo's twin daughter Patri is getting married.  I bet you didn't know that Montrondo is famous for its high percentage of twins. 

4 of the 5 sets of twins from Montrondo by the church in the village.  The two in the middle with shorts on are Patri and Adri but I can't tell them apart.  Patri is getting married today which will be quite an event.

According to this article there are 5 pairs of twins (4 identical) for just 49 inhabitants (not all live here all year round). Interesting eh?  There is no scientific explanation for this but the legend goes that it is due to the water in "la fuente del cuadro" high up in the mountains. So now you know, if you want twins, you must come to visit Montrondo and drink the water from this spring.

Saturday was a day packed with activities. I drew up a programme for our guests which started off with leisurely breakfast.  Mid morning we stepped outside the house to show them the village; the highlights and of course to meet many of its inhabitants.  First we went to the village common (El Camp), then to get eggs from Serafina and Ulpiano.  Right across the way from their house we took them to see one of the latest landmarks, La Fleita spring where they tried the fresh water that comes straight from the mountains.

By La Fleita spring.

From there we walked up the path that leads to the mountain, via El Retorno, to take them to where you get best views of the village.  However just as we up by the beauty spot we heard the bread van and had to come rushing down. Meals in Montrondo without the local bread are unheard of and Spaniards cannot conceive of them without it either.

We then walked towards the main landmark, the 18th century church of the village. At the beginning of the path we found many pear and apple trees and just had to try some of the fruit.  Here are Irene, Tomas and Gerardo helping themselves to apples! When Eladio was a child it was forbidden fruit, but today no one cares hahaha.

Picking apples in Montrondo

On our way we found Fernando, a local, tending his orchard.  He kindly gave us 3 enormous spring onions!  I had to get a picture of him

Fernando by his orchard.

Once by the church we took the customary photo just below the belfry.

In the church grounds were some of the local women; Manolita, Marisa, Pili, Blanca, Josefa and others preparing a surprise for the bride of the wedding that would take place in the afternoon.  They had done a splendid job and I loved the arch of flowers but especially the old bicycle.  We took loads of photos and I have chosen the one with the 6 of us beneath it as the main feature photo of the week.  I had to take one of the women too after their efforts.

Well done Josefa, Manolita, Blanca, Marisa and Pili for the beautiful flower arrangement at the entrance of the church for the wedding. 

By then it was time to walk to Murias to go and have a drink at La Palloza bar.  My friends loved the place; I do too because of its spectacular backdrop.  Below are Gerardo and Vicky raising a bottle of beer for sheer happiness.

Vicky and Gerardo at La Palloza bar

We walked home and we were running late on my programme but no worries as thanks to a super team effort, Tomas, Vicky, Irene and I made a delicious dish of bacalha a bras.  

Then it was siesta time but soon the bells were tolling for the wedding.  Irene, Tomás and I went to watch and to congratulate the family.  It was just so beautiful and the bride couldn't have looked lovlier.  

The wedding

Salo, the mother looked radiant. I just love the contented smile on her face and her dress of course.

The bride's mother Salo. 

Once the ceremony was over and all the wedding participants left for León where the reception would take place, the village seemed emptier of course.  

But there were still more activities that day as Javi, the youngest inhabitant, had organised a game of bowling (bolos leonesas) as they are played here.  It's really only the older generation who know how to play and they were teaching Javi and others of the younger generation.  I loved watching Eladio take part although his skills were rather rusty hahaha.

The complicated game of bowling which took place on the common on Saturday after the wedding.

After so much standing and watching and not understanding, hahaha, we needed to move, so off we went on our last walk of the day up the mountains. Our goal was to reach the birch forest (El abedular) where we just had to have a photo. 

By El Abedular in the mountains yesterday

We were back home just before 9 and thanks again to a super team effort, we rustled up a delicious dish of fried eggs, chips and tender local green beans from Serafina's orchard. The conversation after dinner was once again rather philosophical; thanks to my husband ex priest, philosopher and teacher.  He knows so much and I listen to him with awe.  I whispered to Irene that that was one of the reasons I love him so much.  

The night was not good.  I woke up at 3.30 with a migraine and was sick as a dog; throwing up countless times until finally I slept and then woke up at 7.15.  I am no longer feeling sick and the headache is receding as I write now.  But it's time to leave you now and get on with making breakfast for our guests.

As to today's programme, well it's pretty free but will include mass in Murias at 1.15 after which we shall of course go for a drink to La Palloza.

You will hear all about it my next post.  Meanwhile, let me wish you all a good week ahead,

Cheers from our beautiful village where the sun is shining and the day promises to be another glorious one like yesterday.

Masha

Emotional messages from afar, celebrating our anniversary in Alicante, a trip down memory lane (The Callosa days), goodbye Santa Pola and other stories

Wednesday 24th August 2016

Dinner at Nou Manolin in Alicante to celebrate our 33rd anniversary on Sunday

Good morning everyone,

It is actually Monday 22nd August and I am writing this week's post at the crack of dawn. Whilst everyone is asleep I am sitting in our lounge at the flat in Santa Pola with my cup of coffee and waiting for sunlight.

On Sunday morning we were up early to enjoy the beach before the crowds came. We were down there by 8.45 and it was empty which is how we like it best.  That day the waves were very strong and the red flag was flying which is most unusual here.

Eladio on the empty beach last Sunday

Sunday 21st August was our 33rd anniversary as I wrote last week and we celebrated in style. But it was a remarkable  day for me for a different reason.  I was flipping through my phone that afternoon and came across 100's of unread, unfiltered messages on FB messenger that I had never read because I didn't know I had them.  Nearly all of them were about my performance on the TV programme Undercover Boss.  Some of the latter were full of praise but mostly people wrote asking for jobs, something I could not help with.  But there were also personal ones which touched me enormously.  There were four messages that had me literally gobsmacked.

A lady called Gail had written to me about my Aunty Masha, my Mother's youngest sister who is buried in nearby Alfaz del Pi and who died in 2008, the last of the family saga.   She told me her granddaughter aged 4 had died of cancer the day after my Aunt of and that she was buried just beneath her dressed in princess clothes.  She went on to say that she had searched for information on my Aunt and had read my blog where she discovered she was a real Princess (Her Serene Highness) which pleased her a lot as the child was now together with one. This must have been the entry in my blog that she read. You can read it here to know more about my fascinating Aunt.

 She also told me that she now puts flowers on my Aunt's grave.  Imagine!  How lovely. Of course I wrote back immediately.  Thank you Gail for writing and for this gesture.

My beautiful Aunty Masha, my Mother's youngest sister (Her Serene Highness Maria Andreivina  Lieven. Just after she escaped from Bulgaria - Paris 1959.

There was another message about my Mother's family and it was from a 29 year old Serb called Ivan asking for details of the death of my Aunt Olga (my Mother's oldest sister) and her father Prince Andrei Lieven.  He said it was for the Gotha Online genealogy site. I had no idea what the latter was but have since learned it is the site for the genealogy of the aristocracy.  We later messaged late into the night and he told me he was a fanatic about the monarchy and nobility and  that my Mother's title was HSH and that he was writing a book on the history of the Monarchy.

 I had no idea what it meant, looked it up and found "Her Serene Highness".  He explained that it is the title next down from HRH! Fancy that.  It seems to be used in Germany, the Baltic Countries and Russia.  It was an extraordinary conversation and this man, I know, will help me when I finally write that book about my Mother and her family.  He also wrote to me about our most famous ancestor, Princess Dorothea Lieven.  She was not actually a Lieven but married one. and thus became a Russian princess. She was the wife of the Russian ambassador in London and had much political influence at the time.  According to The Telegraph in a recent article "she slept her way to the top".

Princess Dorothea Lieven, our most famous ancestor, painted by the British artist Sir Thomas Lawrence in 1813

The next message was also from a Serb, a young girl this time, 23 year old Iva.  She wrote to say she was the daughter of the sole passsenger survivor of the plane on which my Father's whole family died, my Aunty Gloria, her husband Derek Orchard and their children, my adored cousins, Jacqueline aged 12, Michael aged 9 and Antony aged 7. It was a tragedy which my Father and I have carried in our hearts always.  I can never ever forget.

Aunty Gloria, my beloved Father's sister, who died in an air crash on 23rd May 1971 on a flight from London Gatwich to Rijeka (Croatia) together with all her family.

She had read my blog and the story of their death which you can read here. I couldn't believe what I was reading, so let me give you an extract of her message:

Hi there,

I don't know you and you don't know me, but i've found your blog when I was looking for some information about the air crash accident from 23 may 1971. And somehow I had the feeling that I had to write to you. Since you have lost so many loved ones

My father was as well at this named airplane flying from London to Rijeka after graduating from Imperial College. Aged 22. He was the sole surviver of this tragic accident.

I'm 23 now and heard about this accident just a couple of months ago. And now I tried to talk to my dad, to have an idea about that day, how he felt, what he'd seen... As you maybe can imagine and understand, he was not very talkative...he just mentioned a girl, he couldn't help...and then started crying. I didn't ask him for more details.

I have written back of course and am keen to get Iva's reply if only to find out what really happened in the last minutes before the plane blew up upon landing that fatal day.

The last message was also about Aunty Gloria and her family. They lived and were buried in Ickenham, a small suburban town outside London near Ruislip and Uxbridge.  A lady called Jenny who lives there wrote me this message:

A while ago I was searching on the web for the Orchard family as I have lived in Ickenham since I was 4 and vaguely remembered the tragedy that befell your family. There is a beautiful window in St. Giles Church dedicated to them. 

Of course I know they are buried there and I remember the church vividly which played such an important part in the life of Aunty Gloria and her family.  After all her Father, my Grandfather, Canon John Lloyd was a vicar.  But I didn't know there was a stained glass window dedicated to them.  I wrote back and Jenny kindly said she would take a picture of it and send it to me.

St. Giles Church Ickenham where Aunty Gloria, Uncle Derek and my cousins Jacqueline, Michael and Antony are buried

Next week I am going to London and I have decided I will visit the church, see their grave and the stained glass window.  I have to do it. Thank you Jenny for reaching out.

The messages touched my heart enormously.  But of course life went on. It was our anniversary and I had booked a table for dinner at Alicante's most famous restaurant, Nou Manolin.  We decided to go early and enjoy a walk on the Explanada on the sea front before going for dinner.

By the replica of the Santisima Trinidad ship which fought in the battle of Trafalgar. Alicante port 

I love the port at Alicante and the views of the sea and the sailing boats.

The port of Alicante 

I also adore the Explanada which is similar to Las Ramblas in Barcelona.  It was full of people, kiosks selling all sorts of stuff as well as black ladies offering to braid your hair.  The floor is made of marble and is difficult to describe, so here is a photo of Eladio, Toño and Dolores on it for you to see.

Eladio, Dolores and Toño on the Explanada in Alicante on Sunday night last

There was also a brass band playing and we stopped for a while to watch and listen.

The brass band playing on the Explanada in Alicante last Sunday

The last time we had heard it was with my Father who loves brass bands and with Suzy some years ago.

At the end of the Explanada comes Alicante's most famous and oldest park, the Canovás Park (a famous Spanish politician) where there are some amazing ficus trees with endless roots and branches.

The Canovas park in Alicante with its amazing giant ficus trees

 Here there was a man making huge soap bubbles to everyone's delight.

The man blowing giant soap bubbles in Canovas park in Alicante

Toño catching one of the bubbles

When it neared the time for our restaurant booking, armed with my mobile GPS we set off to find Nou Manolin on Calle Villegas number 3. It certainly lived up to my expectations and we loved it.

It was a great meal and a privilege to be accompanied by Toño and Dolores on our anniversary night.

Dinner at Nou Manolin in Alicante last Sunday

We didn't have dessert there as we wanted to have an ice cream on the Explanada.  We were to have it at "Kiosko El Peret",  the most famous ice cream parlour in town. Its 100th anniversary was on 12th May this year, one of the waiters told me.

Kiosko Peret on the Explanada in Alicante the most famous ice cream parlour in the area.

 It's a must when in Alicante and a great place to have ice cream, horchata or chocolate con churros.  Here are our ice creams which were delicious.

Ice creams at Peret in Alicante on Sunday night.

We were home by just after 11 and there was time for relaxing on our terrace before retiring.

On Monday morning I was up incredibly early at 6 a.m.  It is a time I love, time to begin the day on my own with a big mug of good coffee with foamed milk.  As always I read the news with my coffee and I was delighted to hear Spain had garnered 3 more medals on the last day of the Olympics in Rio which was on Sunday.  They got a  total of 17 but most importantly 7 of them were gold; 2 of them by women in what are considered the kings of sport; athletics and swimming. It was perhaps Spain's greatest performance at the Olympics since they were held in Barcelona in 1992.

Spain's women's rhythmic gimnastics team who got the silver medal

The medals were: silver in rhythmic gimnastics, bronze in men's basketball and bronze for mountain bike.  The GB team did extraordinarily well coming second after the USA with 67 medals, 27 of which were gold.

Monday 22nd August was to be our last full day in Santa Pola with Toño and Dolores who would be staying on after our departure.  I had planned a trip down memory lane for all of us. We were going to visit Guadalest, then Callosa de Ensarria where my parents bought a house in 1973, Algar and its waterfalls, finishing off in Bolulla where my Aunty Masha bought a house too.  As a family we started going there every summer and we call those times our "Callosa Days" the beginning of my life in Spain which if you are interested you can read about here. After University, I went there with José Antonio and Dolores when their children Miguel and Sara were toddlers.

Toño and Dolores with their 2 small children on the beach in Benidorm in July 1980

It was also where Eladio and I fell in love.

Eladio and I - the first photo of us together in July 1980 in Guadalest. I was 23 and he was a 35 year old Spanish Catholic priest

You see it was Dolores who introduced me to her husband's brother.   He was a 35 year old Spanish Catholic priest and I was a 23 year old English girl of Russian origin who had just graduated in Spanish and Portuguese at Nottingham University. We have been back often but it was to be the first time for them since the early 80's and we were all looking forward to the day tremendously.

We left at 10.30, having waited for the annual plumber visit to sort out the water problem here.  He did the best he could; the problem  being the scale in the plumbing of the whole block of flats.  Our first stop would be in Callosa.  To get there we went on the road from Benidorm to Callosa passing many well known places from my teenage years in Spain.  Particularly lovely is the view of Polop from the road.  Eladio stopped for me to take this great picture.

Polop de la Marina, breathtakingly beautiful view from the mountain road

This is very mountainous terrain and the area where oranges, lemons, olives, almonds and a fruit called níspero grow and are cultivated.

We reached Callosa, that small town of my youth where I first came when I was just 15 in 1973, There's nothing special about the town but it has so many memories for me; I consider it a part of me.

Before visiting my parents' house in Calle de las Flores, we stopped at the Jijonenca Ice cream parlour which serves the best horchata "(milkly looking cold drink made from tiger nuts) in the world. It also makes the best turrón ice cream I have ever tried.

Horchata from La Jijonenca in Callosa

 Here I am outside it for old time's sake.

Outside La Jijonenca ice cream parlour

It hadn't changed much and I was glad to hear it was still run by the same family.  We used to go very often when we spent the summers in Callosa all those years ago.

It was a quick walk to my parents' old house, past familiar streets and the old bakery where we would buy bread every day.

Calle de las Flores. Our old house was number 3, the second on the left going up.

I posed for a photo sitting on the steps as I used to do.  I have a photo of myself probably aged 17 or 18 sitting outside with a long skirt and stroking a kitten.  I must dig it out.

Sitting outside our old house in Callosa 

The house was very simple, what my Father used to call "holiday accommodation". My Mother bought it for about 1000 pounds, a song even then.  At the time there was a restriction on the amount of pounds you could take out of the UK.  As the only way to pay was in cash, she came up with an ingenious idea of how to carry the money over with her.  She stuffed the wads of sterling into a plastic bag inside a chicken she roasted for the journey.  When they passed the border, she had the nerve to eat some of it in front of the customs' officers whilst they inspected my Aunt's old and battered car! We never renovated it and today it looks abandoned.  The thought of buying it went through my head, maybe ....... one day ......

From the old house we carried on down the main street to see one of the town's most interesting landmarks, the old washing house. It was built in 1934. We used to go and sing there at night and during the day women really did do their washing; no longer so of course.

The old washing house in Callosa which has been lovingly restored.

The next stop on our memory lane itinerary was Guadalest, a drive up the mountains around steep bends which is about 12km away.  The views from the road of the rocky mountains and orchards are wonderful.

View from the road from Callosa to Guadalest

Guadalest or El Castel de Guadalest is a beautiful mountain village with a small castle and prison perched on the top. It's very touristy these days but still lovely.

Guadalest

We walked up the steep steps towards the castle and on the way had a photograph taken of the 4 of us at the obligatory stop; just where we took one with Sandra, Jeffer and Isaline a few years ago.

The 4 of us at Guadalest

It's quite a climb in the sun but when you get to the top of the village where the main square is, the view of the reservoir below, surrounded by mountains is to die for.

The view from the top of the small village of Guadalest

I always love going to Guadalest.  It is such a pretty, quaint and unique place.  But we had to leave if we were going to be on time for our lunch appointment at Don Juan in Algar.

Algar, or rather Las Fuentes de Algar (the fountains or really waterfalls of Algar), is an emazing gorge with waterfalls at the top in between Callosa and Bolulla. Today it is very commercial and exploited but when we first came in 1972 it was only really used by the locals.  George, Sasha and I couldn't afford to pay the swimming pool entrance fee at Casa Marcos, so would head for the natural swimming pools among the rocks by the main waterfall where the water is freezing cold.  But times have changed and instead of walking in the heat, we came in a BMW and went for lunch; unthinkable there.  We always go to Don Juan which serves some great rice dishes.  Our favourite is "arroz a banda", similar to paella but with no seafood to shell.  This was the arroz a banda we had there on Monday.

Arroz a banda at Don Juan in Algar on Monday

Before heading for the waterfalls we spent an hour or so resting by the pool at the restaurant.  José Antonio and I had grabbed some sunbeds, a table and chairs before our meal for that very purpose.  It was loud and crowded but I had to have a swim whilst the men slept their siesta and Dolores read the written edition of El País

The swimming pool at Algar (Don Juan)

Once rested, the next item on the agenda was a walk and swim in the waterfall and natural pools formed by the river Guadalest.  These days you have to pay to go in. I spoke to the ticket seller, a young girl from Callosa and mentioned how we used to go there because we couldn't pay for the swimming pool and she told me these days people go to the natural pools because they can't afford the artificial ones.  Kindly she charged us for 4 student tickets, hahahaha.

The most spectacular part of the "fuentes" is the first big waterfall.  This is where Eladio, Toño and I would enter first and it was a huge adventure as it always is.

The big waterfall at Las Fuentes de Algar, we swum practically under it. 

To get into the freezing water you have to make your way across slippery rocks and without glasses I couldn't tell what was under the water.  You also have to go in with water footwear; mine broke and Toño lost one of his flip flops.  Thankfully it later floated to the top. Swimming there is not for the  faint hearted.

We then walked up into the mountain to climb up to more natural pools and waterfalls.  I read later that the water comes from the river in Bolulla and is much used in  local irrigation of the fruit grown in the area.

Bathing in one of the natural pools at Algar

It is such a beautiful place and we were happy that Toño and Dolores liked it as much as we did. After our bathe and walk up the steep paths, it was time to come down.  The next item on the memory lane agenda was to buy fruit from a couple who live in Bolulla and have had a fruit stand there ever since I can remember.  The fruit they sell is just the best and we bought loads of it.

Buying locally grown fruit from the Bolulla couple in Algar on Monday

The last place we would visit on our trip down memory lane was the small village of Bolulla, nestled in the rocky mountains on a very quiet and windy road, just 3km away from Algar.

Approaching Bolulla 

This was the village where my Aunty Masha bought a house so many years ago. (1972 in Franco's Spain).  She was known as "Señora María", "Maria la inglesa", María la rusa" but never by the name Masha.  She was well loved and people still remember her. For them I am "la sobrina de Maria" and proud to be called that. Bolulla has a place in my heart from all those summers spent there as a teenager with my Aunty, parents, brother George, cousin Sasha and numerous friends both English and of many nationalities who came to stay and join us on our "Callosa Days".  For me it is a village where time seems to have stood still; a place of simplicity and rural living in the most beautiful surroundings possible, those imposing rocky mountains and the river bed where the fruit is cultivated. I fell in love with Bolulla when I was 15 and I am still in love with it today.  There is something enticing and magical about it.  No wonder so many of my Aunt's friends bought houses there too and then their friends.  At the time we were the only British people there (apart from Tony - another story) and we were stared at constantly and, I imagine, the main topic of conversation  at meal times in most families in the village.

The road that passes Bolulla.  The entrance to my Aunt's flat in Calle Mayor number 10 is just past the tree in the photo.

We were to coincide with the "fiestas" but first the obligatory stop was my Aunt's house (Calle Mayor 10).  There seemed to be no one there although we were told people did live there. I think my cousin rents it out.  We walked the lovely old streets of a village that is mostly unspoiled.  412 people live there now and it seems to be thriving.  The main source of income is the cultivation of oranges, lemons and nísperos and to a lesser extent almonds.  Everywhere there are jasmine trees and the smell of that delicate flower brought back memories of nights in Bolulla all those years ago.

My favourite street is the one I call Calle de las Flores but it has another name which I think is Rincón Coco.  Here Eladio and Toño are walking down it on our tour around the small village.

Eladio and Toño coming down my favourite street in Bolulla

After our little walk we made our way to the only bar for a drink. I'ts called Bar L'Era and I am happy to recommend it here.  We ended up having an impromptu dinner just as we did in July 2014 with our friends Sandra, Jeffer and Isaline.  The lady owner and chef is quite a personality and a wonderful cook.  She was very welcoming and we had a delicious meal of an assortment of dishes she chose for us from her kitchen for the paltry price of 27 euros!

I should also include here a tidbit of scandal. When I was 18 I fell in love with a young medical student from the village further up the road, Tárbena.  He was very good looking then. His parents were dead against it as being English I would of course never have lived there.  They made our relationship impossible and broke my heart in the process.  Meanwhile they married him off to a young girl from Bolulla with a decent level of education to compensate for losing me.  I heard the marriage didn't last but I wasn't surprised.  Today he is the Mayor of Tárbena and when I googled him I was horrified at the image and very very happy I never married him hahaha.  The girl serving us at dinner that night was a beautiful young Romanian.  She had married a man from Tárbena so we had something in common.  I told her of my failed first romance but of course she knows who the man is.

At 9 pm the fiesta procession was about to begin. How exciting and emotional to be there to be part of it and witness it too.

The church in Bolulla is magnificent.  It is from here that the procession starts with all the village joining

The procession is led by the villagers, walking on both sides of the small streets and carrying a candle in their left hand.  Very kindly, Francisco, a villager who we knew very well and who was delighted to see us, gave me one of his candles.  Behind the villagers comes the Priest and some dignitaries, then the Virgin which is carried out of the church and carried by pall bearers.  Fnally comes the village brass band and their music is so good.

The procession in Bolulla on Sunday night

It was very emotional to be a part of this.  As we walked slowly and in silence, except for the haunting music of the band, I cried tears of emotion as we walked past my Aunt's house and touched the stone walls as if I were touching my Mother and my Aunt.  I wished they were there and I wished they could see me there.

The procession ended at the church with some sort of short mass which ended with the words and shouts of Viva España, Visca Bolulla.  Toño, Dolores and Eladio told me the priest was from the Opus Dei.  That maybe also explained the playing of the Spanish national anthem at the beginning and end of the procession.

Then it was time to mingle with the crowd and to talk to our friend and neighbour, Francisco, also known as "el sacristán".  His Mother was called Elvira and always wore black. She would sit at her door by her house on my Aunt's street and would  greet us every morning saying "¿vais a la playa?" (are you going to the beach?).  At the time I knew no Spanish and only understood the word "playa" so we ended up calling her "playa" hahaha.  When the girls were small and we stayed at my Aunt's house it was Francisco, an orange grower, who once took Eladio out to his orchard to pick oranges in his old tractor at the crack of dawn.  He has always remembered and so have we.  It was nice to see him again.

Eladio and Francisco from Bolulla reunited after so many years

I spoke to so many people who remembered by Aunt, my Mother and myself.  It felt like coming home. It was getting later and later and we really had to leave.  But I had one more thing to see and it was the steps leading up to my Aunt's street from the main road where she always used to park.  It's by the old wash house and across the way from the river.  I rushed there, said a prayer for her and then walked slowly back inhaling the wonderful smell of jasmine as I walked towards our waiting car.

What a day, so crammed full of  memories and emotions.  I went home still feeling nostalgic but happy we did that trip down memory lane once again.  I keep going back there, like a criminal to the crime scene.  No doubt we shall go again next year.  I definitely want to to take part again in the haunting and magical nightly procession around this beautiful little village, the village of my heart. Goodbye Bolulla.  See you again.

Tuesday was to be our last day in Santa Pola or rather the last morning as we would be leaving after lunch to drive home. You see on Thursday I would be travelling to London for the next stage of my August holidays.

We got the most out of the morning.  We were down at the beach by 9.15

Eladio setting up our beach equipment on our last morning in Santa Pola

It was to be my last bathe and last walk on the Carabasi beach which stretches right on to Santa Pola but we go as far as the sand lasts.

We stayed until 11.30 when the crowds began to arrive.  Once home which is a few minutes' drive, we had a cup of coffee at the Antiu Xixona ice cream parlour opposite our flat.  Then it was time for my last bathe at the pool.

My last bathe at the pool on Tuesday morning

The others never really want to go to the pool but they don't know what they are missing. I'm not referring to the swimming pool itself but to the wonderful vegetation surrounding it and above all the amazing views of the sea and Bay of Alicante.

The view from the pool at Gran Alacant

After lunch it was time to pack and go.  José Antonio and Dolores would be staying on for a few days and I hope they enjoy the place together. So it was goodbye Santa Pola until we go again.

The drive takes 4 hours and we were home by 9 pm. Only the dogs greeted us as Salud and my Father were asleep in their beds.  Pippa was over the moon with joy to see us (well mainly me), Norah cried and Elsa jumped up all over us.  As always the best thing about coming home is sleeping in your own bed.

I was awake on Wednesday morning at 6.15 - my body clock is such a bore - I was appalled to read there had been an earthquake in central Italy.

The day was spent quietly.  The dogs were delighted to be taken on their morning walk again and even at 9 in the morning it was already very hot.  I had a nail appointment at 12 and whilst at Centro Oeste shopping centre bought some comfortable looking sneakers for walking in London. I would be flying to London on Thursday 25th August and would be home again on Wednesday 31st.  Eladio, my Father and the dogs I'm sure would miss me.

It is now Wednesday evening and I have decided to publish this post mid week so as to write a separate one on my trip to London starting tomorrow.  Thus I will be free of blog writing whilst spending time there.  I intend to visit Ickenham  to see my Aunty Gloria and her family's grave at the church there; St. Giles. I rang them this morning and they said they would open the church for me this Friday.  That will be a very sad trip.  But more about it in next week's story.

Meanwhile, all the best to you all and thanks so much for reading my blog.  It means a lot to me,

Masha