ciento volando

travel, stories, and other flights of fancy


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between worlds (a pictureless post)

Recently arrived “home”, from another trip home home… and that pretty much sums up life right now.

I’ve also just written, and discarded, an embarrassingly long winded, nonsensical stream of nostalgia, which was open to various angles of misinterpretation, about the (sigh) trials and tribulations of being an ex-pat Melbournite trying to reconcile a semi bohemian existence in financially critical Spain with the expense of a café latte on her home turf…

Blame it on jet-lag (or more likely, some kind of emotional come-down), but the post had the working title Corazón partido, a telling indicator of the melodramatic tone and direction it was taking. Mercifully I trashed the thing, after a much needed head-clearing run (on a crisp winter’s day in Madrid’s Retiro Park).

Now I’m left with nothing but the lingering, nagging sensation that I should still be writing something about my multiple trips to Australia in 2014…they were a big deal for me.

In January last year I did post about my first Return to Oz, summarizing my impressions of Australia after being such a long time away. Although I have no further quirky observations to add to this entry, my most recent visit home was still quite thought provoking.

I primarily went back for two important weddings, or, as I saw them, massive reunions of all my (no longer) nearest (but nonetheless) dearest family and friends.

Although I grumbled about the flights and the timing, I have to say, the time at home was good for me, and I’m glad to have been there not just for the weddings, but for the beginning, middle and end of what was an epic (and exhausting) year for many. It never ceases to amaze me how complicated, dramatic, heartbreaking, hilarious, inspiring, and tough everyday life can be… even in cushy middle-class-first-world-lucky-country-inner-city Melbourne. It felt like there were reality checks coming at me from every direction, and I’ve subsequently come back to Spain feeling quite “recalibrated”.

This time, rather than going out for breakfastcoffeelunchcoffeedrinksanddinner in a desperate attempt to catch up with everyone I’ve ever known (like the first trip at the beginning of 2014), I was able to spend a bit more time just hanging out (ok, geeking out) with my closest friends. I’d forgotten how nice this is… I’d love to move home at some point and do more of it.

However, it seems I’ve shot myself in the foot in terms of work options, as both my chosen career paths (teaching ESL, and writing) are, for the moment, unviable in Australia. This means that for the next little while, doing what I love doing will be keeping me away from the people I love most. Which sucks.

So anyway, this was the second time I’ve said goodbye with no idea of when I’ll next be going home. The first time was at the beginning of an exciting new chapter. Three and a half years ago I left on a one way ticket to two months travelling Europe in summer, an eight month work contract in a remote village of southern Spain, and who knows what next but it was bound to be an adventure. This time, leaving Melbourne airport, that feeling of adventure was gone. I don’t know when I’ll see my family again, but I do know what homesickness feels like and that it’s inevitable, that it’s going to be a long winter, and that I need to work harder than ever this year.

That’s not to say I’m not excited and I can’t have any fun. Coming back to Spain is not such a hard task; life here, in general, agrees with me. I have unfinished business in the capital, and a lot to look forward to  But while the memory of Australia is so fresh and close, I acutely feel what I’m missing out on, and (at the risk of sounding conceited) that some people are missing me.

All this leads to one conclusion; that I’d better make it worth it.

Bring on 2015!!!


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Madrid, Marqués (de Riscal)… and me (me me)

Another belated and miscellaneous post – for a bit of a ‘where in the world’ update, and to share some photos from a weekend away (which was quite a few weekends ago!).

I’ve never thought of that before… how the retrospective nature of most ‘posts’ lends a double meaning to the word. Very neat.

For any of you who were curious as to my current whereabouts, you’ve probably now guessed the answer; Madrid. After an intense summer of hosting visitors, farewelling Segovia, hiking the Camino de Santiago, and going home to Australia for a month (where the littler of my two big little brothers got married)… I came back to Spain in September, the plan this time being to seek my fortune in the nation’s capital.

There’s nothing like life in a big city to push you to drink, which is why, about a fortnight after moving to Madrid, I was pretty desperate to get out of town for a weekend and head wine-ward (north). My brother and his gir-wife(!) were visiting Spain on their honeymoon, and I planned the trip for the three of us, thinking (not entirely selfishly) that it would be a good way to show them some less touristy parts of the country, and indulge our shared enthusiasm for vino tinto. Having already been to La Rioja earlier this year ‘on reconnaissance’, I was familiar with Logroño and its famous nucleus of bars, La Laurel. But the most important part of our excursion, the bodega (winery), was new to me and a bit of a gamble. Thanks to serendipity, coincidence, and a post-reservation recommendation, we were booked in for a tour at the bodega Marqués de Riscal. To get there, we enthusiastically bussed our way to a little village I’d never even heard of before, appropriately called El Ciego (The Blind Man). There we stumbled across a restaurant called La Cueva, where we lined our stomachs with an excellent value €12 set menu (3 courses, bread, wine, and as much cider as you can drink), before continuing on foot to the main event…

The shiny new Marqués de Riscal “City of wine” was designed by Frank Gehry, of Bilbao Guggeheim fame. For a centuries old winery this was a somewhat controversial choice of architect. Gehry’s instantly recognisable, metallic, undulating edifice creates a striking contrast against the matte and earthy landscape of the Rioja. Strangely enough, it works. This is possibly due to the ‘wine inspired hues’ of the iridescent titanium waves, which are purple and copper-ish, depending on the light. We were lucky enough to visit Marqués de Riscal on a sunny autumn afternoon, when the countryside was in all its autumn-y splendour. However, much of the tour was spent indoors, and in some parts, below ground. For me the highlight was an impressively dusty cellar, where the best of the best wines from every year since 1858 were stored under lock and key (a bit like the wine equivalent of the ancient manuscript museum of Oxford’s Bodleian Library, a.k.a. the forbidden books section in Harry Potter). Apparently some of this wine was integral in persuading Mr.Gehry to agree to the design contract, and the bottles were so old they had to be cut open with a hot wire. In short, the tour was entertaining and informative, the guide spoke excellent English, and although we would’ve liked to have tried more wines for free (who wouldn’t), I think it was incredibly good value. It is a shame though that they don’t offer any ‘mid-range’ tastings (somewhere between the basic 2 wine package, and the complete Michelin starred degustation).  Naturally, we continued our own, self-guided tasting in the groovy, mood lit wine bar… which merged dangerously into a gift shop… and when the cab* arrived to collect us, we were somehow a whole lot heavier and lighter at the same time. *Unfortunately the local bus company offered no return transport to Logroño, but such was our contentment at the end of the day, that this didn’t seem much of a flaw at all.

So… operation big success… either that or the newlyweds were too polite to say otherwise. I certainly enjoyed their visit, and after nearly a week of quality time and carefree culinary indulgence, I was sad to see them go. Having my brother and new sister in law around was a welcome distraction, and a pretext to stretch out the summer’s festivities (although it was autumn it still felt like summer). Their departure marked the end of this phase and the impetus for a stark but necessary return to reality.

No more excuses, it was time to settle in properly and make something of my new ‘home’.

* * *

Madrid is an incredible city; a hub of almost everything and, despite Spain’s lingering financial crisis, a place which, at least in my eyes, is still brimming with opportunities… for those smart, bold, lucky and hardworking enough to find them (I’m not kidding myself).  Prior to this, I’d already enjoyed three challenging, but relatively tame and peaceful years in small-town Spain, starting in Hinojosa del Duque (have fun finding that one on the map!) and most recently in Segovia. However a few months ago I decided it was time to shake things up a bit and see what the big smoke had to offer – my reasons being primarily financial and creative; I felt as though I’d hit a wall in both departments. My closest friends in Segovia were also moving their separate ways, another sign it was time for ‘a change of airs’. Perhaps Madrid would deliver me an instantaneous network of lucrative private students, inspiring writers groups, girls sports teams (why are these so hard to find?), and bohemian artist friends (with a convenient surplus of backstage passes and high end hospitality connections)…

Surprisingly enough, this hasn’t happened, yet. And whilst I am incredibly grateful for having fallen on my feet in the work and accommodation departments, the first month or so in Madrid didn’t quite mirror the starry vision of my daydreams. In fact, I found it pretty tough, morale wise, and the question “what am I doing here and what on earth am I doing with my life?” crossed my mind more than once. This was no doubt due to an inevitable come-down after such an intense summer (tooo much thinking), and the shock-to-the-system of the daily realities of life in a big city (such an overly complicated, arduous affair!). Sometimes I wonder if my dream to be a writer is truly based on wanting to write, or simply wanting to never have to commute to work?! (In which case I’m sure there are much simpler and better paid career options out there!).

Anyway, I’m not going to bore you with my petty gripes and bureaucratic, professional, financial, emotional, and public transport related frustrations (oops, just did!), but suffice to say, I found the first month of this ‘next chapter in life’ to be pretty frustrating. Friends kept telling me that things would come good and it was just a matter of patience, and of course I agreed with them, but it was something I needed to remind myself of all too frequently.

In the end, not so much patience was needed after all. It’s amazing how quickly things turned around. Getting my first proper pay cheque alleviated one massive stress factor, as did the slow but steady increase in private student numbers. I finally managed to ship the last of my belongings over from Segovia, had a few long overdue catch ups, and found my running groove. I’ve now started Yoga, and am giving girls indoor soccer a go next week. I still ‘strongly dislike’ commuting, but I’m finding strategies to avoid/tolerate the peak hour crush. And thanks to the technological know-how of one of my housemates, I’m back on board (‘fully armed and operational’) in the computer department, having fortuitously ended up with not one, but two functioning laptops (I’ve renamed the little one ‘Lazarus’).

Now I know that it was never supposed to be, but life is getting easier. The momentary self-doubt has passed and the optimistic buzz has returned… I can’t help getting excited about what’s on the horizon (ok, a lot of hard work), and I have the feeling…that coming here was a very good move.

view from my new rooftop, Madrid


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Segovia, in pictures

It’s hard to believe it’s over. After almost two years of living inside a fairytale, I’ve packed up my little attic apartment, said goodbye to Señor Cigüeña (the stork outside my window), and did one last scenic walk of the Segovia and its ancient walls. I tried my best to farewell each of my friends and colleagues, and have a last glass of wine and pincho at all of my favourite bars. On Saturday I handed back my keys, and I’m now no longer a resident of what I consider to be one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

Segovia has treated me incredibly well. It’s cheap, easily navigable on foot, surrounded by lush green countryside and snow capped mountains, and, most importantly, almost every bar offers free tapas. One of my reasons for leaving was actually that life there was too easy, and I was worried about getting so comfortable that I’d never be able to hack living somewhere “in the real world”. For me, one of the biggest challenges of the Madrid Metrolpolis will be that “not everything is picturesque all the time”, as is the case in most corners of the globe, save where I happen to be coming from.Señor Cigüeña

So am I sad about leaving Segovia? The truth is, not really. Whilst I loved it there (really loved it) and it will always have a special place in my heart, I simply knew that it was time to move on. I acknowledge my incredible good fortune in having had the opportunity to live somewhere so remarkable (and for so long), but I didn’t want to push my luck, and I didn’t want to let the experience stagnate. Segovia will always be there to go back to, and go back I will. I’m already planning visits for the next Segovian half-marathon and Titirimundi puppet festival, as well as scouting apartments to buy there when I win first division in El Gordo, the fat Christmas lottery.

In the meantime, as a little tribute to Segovia, I’ve uploaded some photos of my wanderings about the city. There are a lot missing, a lot of views that I was meaning to capture, yet somehow just never got around to. I would also love to have done a series of drawings based on the esgrafiados (traditional Segovian facades), and maybe I still will, but excuses excuses, there were just too many other things to be seen and done. Another thing to note is that the city is much greener and in better condition than as depicted in these photos. There are plenty of parks and nice, clean, renovated buildings – it’s just that I’m drawn to photographing old derelict walls.

If you’re interested, click on the links to two different photo pages. Then, at the foot of this post, you’ll find my recommendations for some bars, restaurants, and things to see and do in Segovia.

 DOORS, WALLS & WINDOWS

casa de los picos, calle real, Segovia

FAIRYTALE CITY

Segovia, anochecer

 

Top bars with free tapas:
José María (most famous and well regarded in Segovia city, also has big dining room)
La Judería (generous tapas of Indian/Asian/Middle eastern food, something different for when you get sick of traditional Spanish cuisine)
Fogón Sefardí (consecutive winner of tapas competitions, see menu for mini mains at pincho prices)
La Cueva de San Esteban (Cave-like venue, traditional food and decor)
El Fogón de Javier (lovely terrace, fantastic olives)
Ludos (also has board games and great breakfast combos)

Fine dining restaurants (the best ones are always outside the capital):
La Portada de Mediodía, Torrecaballeros
El Rancho, Torrecaballeros
José María
La Postal, Zamarramala (great weekday set menu)

Great bakery: Limon y Menta (just off the main square)

Fresh food markets :
Thursday morning in the main square
Saturday morning between José Zorilla and Avenida de la Constitución

Best touristy things to do:
The Alcazar
Visit to La Granja Palace and gardens (mini Versailles, but free and minus the crowds)
Museo Esteban Vicente (more for the building than the art)
Pedraza (medieval fortress town about 40mins by car from Segovia)
Puerta de Santiago (an exhibition space inside one of the gates of the old wall)
walk walk walk (around the town, around the surrounding countryside, especially around the wall)

Typical Segovian set-menu:
Judiones de La Granja (jumbo white broad beans in hearty meaty broth)
Cochinillo o Cordero Asado (oven roasted suckling pig or baby lamb)
Ponche Segoviano (sponge cake with egg yolk custard and thin real-almond-not-horrible-fake marzipan icing)

Also try:
Cocido (hearty many-part stew, with noodle broth, vegies and chick peas, and separate mixed meat and sausage component)
Alcachofas con jamon (artichokes with garlic and Spanish ham)
Tejas de almendra (sticky almond ‘roof tiles’)
torreznos (pork crackling bar snacks – not my thing, but is typical of the region)
Empanada de pisto (pastry filled with cooked tomato and onion)
Pulga de tortilla (little bread roll filled with Spanish potato omelette, typical mid-morning snack)
all the grilled/roasted vegetables, especially pimentón (sweet red pepper)