Grub's Up

As Ed walked past one of our large pine trees, he spotted something odd on the ground. It was a huge grub of some sort.


Poor Ed. He just wanted to get rid of it, but no, I made him hang on to it, while I fetched the camera! Further investigation revealed that this was actually the grub of a rhino beetle. We get loads of those here. (In fact, today, I fished one out of the swimming pool.)

What a horrible looking thing. I'm glad I didn't find it.

Was She Pushed

Ed and I headed out towards the coast recently, so while there(ish) called up a friend to see if he was about.

It ended up with Ed and I having a lovely lunch with Roger and Nina in a dutch restaurant right on the sea front in Albir. The food was excellent. I ordered the club sandwich, which I find is often a good idea. Filling enough on it's own, a plate of chips soon turns it into a complete meal! In this case, it was served with the usual olives and nuts as well as lots of entertainment from the owner. He was so camp, he should have his own Butlins! He was lovely.

When I go to new places, I always look around at what other people are eating. In this place, I was more intrigued with the crockery than I was with the food. They had the most divine asymmetric plates as well as beautiful glasses. When the time came to serve teas and coffees, I was presented with a cup of hot water, and a pretty wooden box containing a selection of herbal t-bags. What a cute way to serve tea.

The place was really busy and I think we were lucky to find a table. I have no idea how long we were there, but some time later we decided to depart and head for the sea. I was determined to have a paddle. What I didn't realise, was that the beach there was a pebble one. Oh, it was very hard work walking on it. As we got to the edge, I rolled my jeans up and kicked off my flip-flops. Ed, Roger and Nina did the same, and we all had a laugh splashing in the sea. Then Nina fell over. Thankfully, she was still laughing as we struggled to pick her up and get back up the beach. I did wonder if she was pushed, but Roger said she was 'pished, more like'. Very funny.

No. I don't want to.

Max and Paddy needed a bath.

They hate bathtime.

It's actually very funny. Whichever one we grab first, the other one watches from a distance, knowing that they are going to be tortured next. We have now mastered the art. We have a rope around a pillar of the house, which we fasten to their collar, and then we fill a kiddies paddling pool and stand them in it. We can then wash them and rinse them off, without too much struggling. Even if they do run off, they can only go around the pillar.

This time, we happened to wash Max first and then Paddy. As soon as we had finished with Max, he raced round and round the house, looking for somewhere to rub himself in (the door to the house were shut, otherwise he'd have soaked the place). Unfortunately, he found some soft soil and then did his best to remove the smell of the shampoo. On finishing Paddy, the pair of them then raced around and did the same thing again.

This is the final outcome. No fleas (we didn't find any while washing anyway), but also no shiny coat.

First Communion

A friend's daughter has reached the age of her first communion.

We got a bit muddled up, with what was happening when, but we understood enough to be at Paco's house one Thursday at 7pm. Not certain of the protocol, we dressed up a bit, although we had been told that jeans were ok. Surely, if this was a special do, then we should dress up? Not necessarily, it is quite common to wear jeans to church here!

We rolled up at 7 as asked, and Paco asked if we knew where Julian lived. No. Ok, then follow us. Then Paco, Victoria and their daughter set off, with us following behind, with no idea as to where we were going. We parked in a small street in the centre of town. It was within walking distance really, but, as Victoria has MS, it was better to take the car. We got out, then wandered up a street, looking in desperation for the right house. Evidently Paco didn't know where it was either! He finally asked someone, just as we were right outside the right house - typical.

In we all went, and then I understood. We had been invited by the family, to view the gifts that Marta had been given on this very special occasion. In her bedroom, all of her gifts were on display. There were clothes hanging everywhere and books and toys laid out on the bed. There was a lovely display of jewelry and Marta took great pleasure in showing off all of her treasures. She is not a selfish girl at all, and she understood the importance of it all. In centre stage, was a tall doll, which was wearing the dress that she would have on for the church, her shoes underneath, and necklace and earrings in place. It was all delightful. Thankfully, I was organised enough to have a present for her, as well as a card, which she was delighted to receive.

In the livingroom, was a photo album, and a CD on a loop, showing a wonderful selection of photos of Marta and her parents. Many were taken in a studio, but, equally, there were some lovely outdoor shots too. We were honoured to have been invited. Sadly, Julian couldn't be there on that night, as he was working until 10pm!

Once the church ceremony had taken place (presumably the following Sunday), the family celebrated in private in their country house. Other friends were then given a token present (a bit like getting a bit of wedding cake, if you didn't go to the wedding) and we received a decorated bottle of wine (the label having her name on, along with the date) as well as a beautifully wrapped selection of sweets.

I know England isn't a catholic country, but it is a shame that such significant points in a child's life are not celebrated. First day at school? Nothing. So sad. Childhood is over so quickly, we ought to celebrate it while we can.

Raucous Ride-out

I love our Sunday ride-outs, but sometimes they can get a bit monotonous. Meet up at 9, ride somewhere for breakfast and a chat, ride back, drink in a cafe then home.

A few weeks ago, we went to a bar in the countryside for breakfast. Ed had been there before with the boys, but I hadn't. There were a few bikes there already, so everyone nodded at each other, but we didn't chat with each other. We had the 'house' sandwich which can be recommended in any establishment. Paco must have been very peckish, as he ate all of the nuts, then hid the basket and asked for a new lot! The staff were really nice and friendly, as they are in all of the bars we have been to. No sullen waitresses here!

Outside, there was a man dressed as a red indian, selling hand made goods on a stall. It was obvious that these weren't authentic, so I don't really know what he was trying to pass them off as. They weren't even particularly well made. As we were looking at the stock, we all chatted and looked around, then Paco saw that someone on the other side of the valley had a bonfire on the go. "Look", he said, "they are communicating". We all howled. We may not understand everything we are saying to each other all of the time, but we certainly share the same sense of humour. I think this is why we get on so very well. Our similarities overshadow any communication problems that we might have.

This time, instead of simply riding back home, we stopped by Beniares reservoir. It was a lovely day and there were loads of people all over the place. Thankfully, we found a spot to park and take some photos. Paco was thrilled with a photo I took of his bike, as I lay down practically underneath it, for a 'publicity shot'. Some trikes stopped by for a while and then some other bikers too. One of them had a camera mounted on his helmet, so I went up to him and asked about it. Everyone was very interested and he was happy to show it off. I was most interested in the camera, but the others wanted to know how it had been mounted. It was a very good set up. When I got back, I checked the price of the cameras. Hmm. That idea goes back on hold!

On our way back, we went over a beautiful pass, that we have used a few times now. Sadly, there is no-where to stop and take photos. This seems to be the way with the Spanish roads. There are no verges, and very few lay-bys. It is not safe to stop at the side of the road. If you do find a side-road, the chances are that you have quite a walk back to the spot where you want to take a photo (and then you won't have your bike or car in the photo anyway!) One of these days, I ought to go out on the back of Ed's bike, then I can take some photos as we go along.

Coll De Rates

One Sunday I fancied a ride out somewhere different. I had heard of Col De Rates, a restaurant on a peak of a mountain, which serves brilliant food.

Ed and I went to Pedreguer first for a bimble around the Sunday market, then headed out to find the place. I had no idea which road to take out of the town, so I asked a couple of people on a scooter. To my amusement, they didn't speak much Spanish as they were German. I then asked in (terrible) German, but they didn't know where it was. They recommended a nice place, which wasn't the idea! I then asked a policeman and he knew where I was asking about.

It was a lovely ride, along the edges of the mountains and through very small villages. At one point, I spotted a building at the top of a mountain and guessed it was where we were going. I was right. As we finally got onto the car park, we were greeted by Roger, a friend from Albir. I had asked him about the place, so he decided to join us. Good job we didn't decide to go to the other place the Germans had told us about.

We went inside (it was a chilly day) and it was like going into a German mountain restaurant. The staff were either German of Spanish and the decor was decidedly Bavarian. We got a menu and decided on a 'snack'. I ordered some sausages and Ed ordered some lamb chops. Roger ordered apple strudel! When mine arrived, I had a bowl of water, with 3 sausages swimming in it along with a couple of giant pretzels and some mustard. It was divine. Ed's snack, turned out to be a plateful of chops, with the usual trimmings. It was a good job he didn't order a full sized meal.

It was a lovely place, and very busy in spite of the weather. I can imagine it being totally packed in the summer. Apparently, they do 'full moon' barbeques which are very popular (but don't forget to take a jacket, as it gets cold on mountain tops at midnight!). It was a long way from here, so I don't think we'll go very often, but the size of Roger's apple strudel certainly makes it worth thinking about.

The views from the place were spectacular. As it was a bit overcast, it wasn't possible to see Ibiza, but on a clear day, it is visible. Roger said that he had been able to watch our progress from the last village, all the way along the mountain road, which was several miles. He assumed it was us anyway, as there were 2 bikes!

I think we ought to go again in September, when the summer heat haze had cleared and we will be able to admire the view from outside (as well as admire the strudel inside).

There's a pot of gold...

Some deserve it more than others.