Just another week in Spain

The biggest disaster of the holiday was undoubtedly the lack of chips.

Driving up the N340 from Gib, we planned to stop midway at Marbella to have a leg stretch for us and the dog, and grab a nice ración of freshly cooked chips.

It was a bit chilly with a nasty cold breeze, so we agreed to eat inside, although normally we would sit out by the Landy and Pippa would let us have a few chips share the chips with Pippa.

I walked around to enter the restaurant and order the chips. I looked at the door perplexed. Not only was it locked, the iron grille was in front of it and a chain was through it and padlocked. I shut my eyes, shook my head, opened my eyes and waited for the doors to be open. Open Sesame?

It didn’t work. Still closed and very firmly locked. I looked at the opening hours. Yes, winter hours were ten until something or other. Kitchen hours 12-4.30. That means full meals, you can always get a toasted sandwich or chips if you don’t mind waiting for the fryer to heat up.

This was so not good. I desperately wanted chips. I had spent the last hour and a half fantasising about chips. We agreed to stop off elsewhere and get chips but by the time we got there I didn’t want chips. I had wanted chips earlier. We pressed on home.

The next biggest disaster was the freezing cold wind that seemed to be gusting all over the Costa. For those who don’t know the Costa del Sol used to be called the Costa del Viento until it was renamed. After all, the Windy Coast isn’t quite the same incentive for tourism as the Sunny Coast.

It’s nothing like as windy as Tarifa which has to take the prize for mind-numbing wind (hence the high suicide rate in the town), but days of cold winds in winter is no fun at all. It means no sitting outside, no gardening, no external maintenance, and no cycling. OK, some idiots go cycling in the fierce cold winds, but I’m certainly not going to when there are plenty of nice warm calm days to cycle.

But when the sun comes up, and the wind drops, life is good.

The good life?

I am NOT asleep – A good life for dogs too?

However it’s not so good in the rest of Spain. We noticed some of our neighbours, who have/had a construction firm, had fallen back to the staple living in our area – growing veg. No idea whether they are growing it to sell or just to live on, but if you have enough to rent a bit of ground, at least you won’t starve.

Broad bean coming along nicely in my garden

The best trick is to try and sell your produce directly. The local corrida (wholesale veg market) not only takes commission (obviously) but also takes a minimum of six weeks to pay out. Although our village is small, we are at the centre of a big agricultural area and our local corrida is huge, with massive frigitrucks coming from all over Andalucía, and further afield, to buy and sell.

In fact, many of the local veg shops both in our village and in the nearby town, only manage to survive because they grow some of their produce themselves or their families do, or their neighbours do, etc etc. Quite a few of the veg shop owners in town come from our village, and the others come from other villages where crops are the mainstay of the economy.

For anyone who doesn’t know, the approximate unemployment rate in Spain is 25%, and that rises to 50% among young people. That obviously doesn’t include all the stay-at-home women who have never registered for employment because they spend all day cleaning, shopping, and cooking.

Does the high unemployment among young people explain the horrific incident in Valencia towards the end of last year when a dog was burned alive? Nothing better to do with their time? Want to victimise something, someone? Amazingly it survived and was treated – and then died. I’ve not included the link as the photos are very distressing.

But what about Fat Cats in Spain? Gatos Gordos literally, but for some reason the Spanish have Fat Fish – Pez Gordo!

While half the nation’s young people are out of work, and a quarter of all adults are unemployed, the royal family has managed to claw back a salary reduction they took in July last year. Or to be precise, Juan Carlos (king) and Felipe (his son), have recovered their previous salary reductions of 20,000 euros and 10,000 euros. That was a really significant gesture eh? ‘We’ll drop our salaries by seven per cent for six months, and then go back to the previous rate in the new year.’

Readers of this blog may recall that any respect I had for the Spanish royal family went out of the window last April when Juan Carlos cleared off on a private hunting trip to kill elephants in Africa (Botswana) while most of the country was suffering from the economic depression and imposed austerity measures. That’s before I even start on Felipe’s comments about Gibraltar. Hello royal family, don’t dabble in politics, there are enough idiots doing that as it is.

Naturally in the spirit of equality, Sofia (queen), and daughters Elena and Cristina, have had their budgets cut by 55,000 euros leaving them with a mere 260,000 euros to spend on their appearance expense budgets this year. The men get their money back and the women take a bigger fall.

The royal garage has taken a bit of a hit too, with the number of offical vehicles now standing at a mere 45 (!!!) from a whopping previous 72.

However, overall the budget has been cut by four per cent and for the first time is under eight million euros. ‘Twould be interesting to compare with other royal budgets, but I have better things to write about. And it’s a shame Juan Carlos and Felipe couldn’t quite manage on that tighter budget. Families live on that sort of money that they have clawed back – and less – all year.

Meanwhile, I should also add that the household budget does not include:

• royal trips – paid for by the foreign ministry
• security – paid for by the interior ministry
• vehicles – (all 45 of them) paid for by the finance ministry
• palace maintenance and other royal residences – paid for by national heritage

It must be good to be a taxpayer or on the dole in Spain, knowing that the king and heir to the throne couldn’t manage on a pay cut, and that the public is also funding their trips, personal security, cars and accommodation.

What about Iñaki Urdangarin? Royal son-in-law, married to Princess Cristina, who has been under suspicion of fiddling funds for nearly six years now. Tax officials are investigating alleged fraud and say that he used a ‘ghost’ company with his wife to conceal a million euros in earnings and avoid paying tax on the money.

Then there is the former Popular Party (Partido Popular) treasurer, Luis Bárcenas, who is under judicial investigation and just happened to have an undeclared 22 million euros in a Swiss bank account.

The PP is currently under fire regarding allegations that party members have received huge illegal cash bonuses on top of their legitimate salaries. The PP, is of course, the party currently in power in Spain. If you can call bailing out the banks, wrecking the economy, and leaving the average person on the street without a job, ‘in power’. Or perhaps they are indeed in power, a clear-cut case of ‘Yo estoy bien Juan,’ (I’m all right Jack) so stuff the rest of you.

Meanwhile, the PP wasn’t too happy that Spanish TV company Telecinco had the audacity to host a programme on the topic and threatened to take legal action against the company.

Surprised and stunned, several commentators on the show suggested it might be more appropriate for the PP to bring legal action against Bárcenas rather than a TV show.

[El Pais]

How about convicted criminals being allowed to head up Spanish banks? The government started a consultation this week reducing the requirements for people wanting to be in charge of the country’s banks. The banking chiefs don’t seem to have done a brill job so far, but let’s open it up a bit wider for even more irresponsible people to get their dedos in the till.

For the first time ever, having been convicted for criminal offenses will not be sufficient cause to stop an executive from taking a senior role in a bank.

Good news eh? Let’s have a few convicted crims running the banks – rather than unconvicted ones – or those who have been pardoned like Alfredo Sáenz, head of Banco Santander, initially sentenced to three months in jail but later let off.

Meanwhile the Catalunyan parliament has approved a sovereignty declaration. Not surprising really is it? given the brief summary of news above. Whether or not it will get anywhere is another matter as Madrid is not too keen on Catalunya – or any of the other more bolshie communidades – leaving Spain.

All stories on this post from El Pais which tends to be my preferred Spanish source of news, there is an English version, although the Spanish one gives more info.

Some very different perspectives of life in the real Spain this past week.

But back to the Costa del Viento.

Wandering onto the terrace one morning at sunrise I was surprised to see the clouds on the horizon looking remarkably like the view I see from Gib of Morocco. For a minute, I thought it had floated up the coast!

Is that Morocco I see?

We played at identifying cloud images. Before they quickly drifted off and floated away into nothing.

Pterodactyl?

By sunset the cloud had moved around again and Morocco was now in the southwest.

Morocco at sunset?

And Ensalada de Axarquía, a local salad named after the area where we live. The key ingredients are radish, orange and avocado, all of which are currently in season. Wonderful combination however strange it may sound. My neighbour adds the inevitable Little Gem lettuce hearts, but my taste is for something a little greener. Doesn’t matter what you add, so long as you get the three basic ingredients, usually a little onion as well, fresh green cebolletas.

Supper

So what did you do at Christmas?

Not being religious, nor having family, and not exactly a big turkey-eater as a vegetarian, our Christmas is hardly traditional.

There’s no opening presents by the tree, twinkling with the tiny lights as there was when I was a kid and there’s no overeating (which I didn’t particularly do even then).

And while childhood Christmases were lovely, there’s no point harking back to the past and trying to recreate it.

I did put up nice large trees in the UK, and at one point, we bought some artificial trees. They may have been plastic (or whatever) but at least it didn’t involve indiscriminate chopping down of real trees.

For a few years I kept putting up small ones in Spain, but eventually I was ordered to consign them to the bin as they looked raggier and raggier each year I got them out. So despite having boxes of ornaments and lights – I am treeless now. I don’t have space in Gibflat either.

So my nine Christmas cards are the only concession to the ‘festive season’ in our home.

What I love about Christmas in Gibraltar is the peace and tranquility. It is always quiet at weekends, but Christmas Day is even quieter.

On the Sunday before Christmas I was lured out to go visit a new supermarket in Gib. Me, the hater of shopping, having a walk to look at a supermarket. Eroski, on the far side (ie north) of the runway.

The only reason I agreed to go was because there were a couple of geocaches en route in the centre of the city, and Sunday was a good quiet day to stealthily acquire them.

Arriving in Casemates, where I confidently expected the cache to be (I have no idea why as the cache was called ‘Main Street’) I announced the clue. ‘Time for a rest?’

I figured it must refer to one of the many restaurants in the square.

Partner looked at me and immediately said ‘It must be on a bench.’ What a smart-arse. Trust him to spot the obvious.

I looked at the co-ordinates on the GPS. We had gone past the cache. It wasn’t one of these benches. We headed back up Main Street, looking for the likely bench.

There were two possible candidates together. When the occupants moved away, I took the first bench and he took the second. I felt all around the bench. Nothing. I looked at the GPS. I figured it was his bench. Rats.

‘It’s not on my bench,’ he piped up. ‘Yes, it is,’ I said assertively. I wandered over and adopted his trick of dropping down to pretend to do up my shoelace. Bingo! There it was underneath one side of the bench. I went and sat next to him and reached underneath to retrieve it and smirk.

Main Street – relatively quiet

We cleared off elsewhere to sign the log and then I put it back. He didn’t think I had put it back sufficiently well so promptly interfered. I wandered over to a shop window and then turned round to ensure it was suitably hidden. It was.

Off we went to try and find the next cache. This was in one of Gib’s old fortifications. Here is the quote from the cache site, which gives the history.

The North Bastion, formerly the Baluarte San Pablo (St. Paul’s Bastion) was part of the fortifications of Gibraltar, in the north of the peninsula, protecting the town against attack from the mainland of Spain. The bastion was based on the older Giralda tower, built in 1309. The bastion, with a mole that extended into the Bay of Gibraltar to the west and a curtain wall stretching to the Rock of Gibraltar on its east, was a key element in the defenses of the peninsula. After the British took Gibraltar in 1704 they further strengthened these fortifications, flooding the land in front and turning the curtain wall into the Grand Battery.

Today, the bastion is surrounded by reclaimed land to the west and north. Glacis Road runs along the base of the bastion’s former glacis. Smith Dorrien Avenue separates the bastion from the curtain wall, which is still largely intact. The bastion is occupied by the Giralda Gardens and a pétanque club. The government has plans to rehabilitate the site as part of a plan to develop the old fortifications as tourist attractions.

North Bastion

The clue was ‘at eye level’ so at least we didn’t need to bend down endlessly tying up our shoelaces and looking even more suspicious and furtive than we already were.

For a street away from the shops and on a Sunday morning, there was an annoying number of people walking around. We didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.

‘It could be over the road,’ he said. ‘No, it’s not,’ I snapped. Just to prove my point, we walked over anyway, and the GPS promptly said we were going away from it. Back we went nonchalantly gazing at the wall again. He thought it might be hidden behind a cigarette packet. Stupid idea. Everyone knows that stones are the most popular ways to conceal a cache. So I was looking for a crevice in the wall, with a loose stone. It had to be in the old part of the wall because the new part was too smooth. And then I found it. Extremely neatly hidden and slightly obscured by a plant. Two finds in one morning by ME!

We skipped over the road to sign the log on what looked like a former fountain with an inscription saying ‘For the animals 1934.’ I wonder what the history of that was?

Off we went to Eroski, about which I have nothing to say except that it is cheaper than Morrisons although further away and not as convenient for buses. Unless you wish to pay to jump on the frontier bus which we didn’t, it means a walk across the runway to get to the nearest free bus stops at Referendum House or opposite Glacis Estate.

Walking across the runway, Eroski on one side, Sleazyjet and the new airport on the other

White poinsettia en route – with someone’s scruffy litter chucked away

Christmas Eve started off as a nice lazy day, we curled up with a book and did very little until I got a sudden urge to clean the bathroom tiles. In fact I got so engrossed with this exciting task that before I knew it, Partner had made a seitan and tofu casserole, and put on the potatoes. Excellent.

On Christmas Day we’d planned another geocaching adventure to Rosia and Europa Point, but woke up to rain, thunder and lightning. So instead, it was curl up on the sofa with book again. This time, I used the left-over casserole and added some more goodies to it, while he cooked lots of pasta twists (extra so I could make pasta salad later).

I mention our totally normal meals in case anyone is wondering ‘What does a vegetarian eat for Christmas?’ – in our case, what we eat seven days of the week.

My boxing day breakfast – cauliflower soup and pasta salad!

In the past I have cooked fancy meals, invariably a nut roast, or steamed hazlenut pudding, or something with pastry. If I was entertaining that’s what I would do. But I don’t entertain. So that’s easy. [More on 'entertaining' on Clouds]

I discovered a long time ago, that good Christmases can be the simple ones. Many years back, he bought me a Peter Carey novel (probably The Taxman). We lit a fire in the sitting room and I happily lay on the sofa reading all day. Lunch was spaghetti and tomato sauce. It’s one of the most memorable Christmases I’ve had just because it was sheer indulgent luxury to do nothing (apart from read).

This Christmas Day was pretty similar – without the fire.

And on Boxing Day, we started Operation Bedroom. Well, he did. I was still on Operation Bathroom.

Clean the walls with a fungicidal bleach to get rid of the damp spores, let dry for 24 hours, and the following day, coat up with Dulux Mouldshield Fungicidal Matt. No idea what the UK price is, but here in Gib it is nearly fifty quid. It covers well, and looks good, so fingers crossed it will keep back the mould for a year or so before it is time for another repaint.

Applying the bleach, wearing a mask for safety

Next, the first coat of paint – hat to prevent eyes getting any spatters

Having shown everyone the inside and linings of my curtains, I thought a pic of them drawn might be helpful. The background is slightly crazed and shaded, the main design is the unicorns on the twirly pattern. There is a feng shui belief that it is good to have some type of animal representation in your decorations.

Curtains in bedroom

Back on the walls are the mirror (the only decent thing the previous owner left behind) and our Hockney print (of which more later on an art post). In the mirror you can see the furniture piled up in the middle of the room and covered with dust sheets. Part of my helpful contribution to the task as painter’s assistant. In fact, Operation Bathroom didn’t get a look in yesterday.

Mirror and Hockney

And to end with, the inevitable curry. If the shops in the UK don’t stock up between Christmas and New Year, it’s even worse here in Gib. I went to the market yesterday and the only stall open was a meat one! Not much use to me, so I said ‘Hola,’ asked if they were the only stall, and turned round and walked out.

In which case curry comes in extremely handy. Spicy red lentil dal, bombay style potatoes, mushrooms and turmeric with roasted cumin seeds and rice, and a raita (Yeo organic yoghurt, salt, black pepper, lemon juice, paprika, cayenne, tomato, cucumber, red onion, and green chilli). Recipe for the red lentil dal and potatoes are under Channa dal on the recipe page. I’ll add the other two later.

Curry

All you need is love

No! this is not yet another John Lennon tribute. Readers of Clouds will know that I have got fed up with reading blog posts about ‘John Lennon died 32 years ago,’ or whenever it was.

But, ironically, my moan came back to bite me in the wherever.

Indulging in a rare flurry of sociability, we decided to join a local geocaching event to be held on 12.12.12, at 18.12. The gib geocaching community has perked up of late with lots (well, relatively, in Gib terms) of new caches in the last 12 months or so.

For anyone who doesn’t know, this is treasure-hunting with a GPS. You buy a GPS, join the geocaching site – free, unless you decided to be an elitist premium member – and off you go.

The best thing about it, is not so much finding the bits of tat treasure, ie something hidden in a plastic container, but the places it takes you to that you probably wouldn’t otherwise visit.

I turned up at the scheduled time, signed what I thought was the log in both our names, and as they were making a move to go and eat elsewhere, dashed back to let Partner know this development (he was just coming in from work).

When I returned, I was puzzled to find I had won the raffle. What raffle? Even moreso, how did anyone know it was me? I’d signed with my geocaching name, and I didn’t know anyone there.

Geocachers doing geocaching things

But when they called out the number and no-one answered, they figured it must be me as I’d dashed off. Geocachers are not stupid!

So what was the raffle prize? A geocache coin – All you need is love. !!

All you need is love ..
in your dreams ..

You put a coin in a cache, and in theory it travels around the world as people move it from cache to cache.

I don’t like ‘All you need is love’ as a song. Far too drony for me.

But I didn’t know this:

It was first performed by The Beatles on Our World, the first live global television link. Watched by 400 million in 26 countries, the programme was broadcast via satellite on 25 June 1967. The BBC had commissioned The Beatles to write a song for the United Kingdom’s contribution.

[Thanks Wiki].

I mention this because here is another co-incidence. It was broadcast on my birthday. Destined to have links with a grotty record!

Readers of Clouds will also know that I endlessly bleat about lack of consideration and understanding about vegetarian meals so I’d been mildly impressed when the event organiser had asked if any vegetarians were attending.

In fact when we arrived at the Theatre Royal Bar, the burger menu had a vegan burger as an option. Just wow! I didn’t bother with extra trimmings but my partner had some hot chilli red bean topping.

Usual burger fare, not that I know anything about it, but it came in a teacake with salad, and chips on the side.

We were sitting next to a couple of Germans on holiday and I coveted the onion rings in theirs. Must remember to ask for some next time. I love onion rings.

Prices for burgers start at £8.50 I think, and then you can add the extras. No idea how much the beer was, but we had bottled beer which is never cheap and was extremely good. No idea what it was called either.

Anyway, it turned out to be £14 for a communal chip-in, I thought that was reasonable until I realised it was £14 each (when I added up the cost of the two burgers and worked out they came to more than £14 …. )

When we’ve eaten out in Gib, we’ve usually paid more than £20 for a meal, less than £30, £40ish being the exception.

I think it’s the whole idea of paying restaurant prices for a burger, chips and salad garnish that I find difficult to get into my head. It’s a snack really, isn’t it? Having said that, I enjoyed it, no cooking, no washing up, and that all-essential catering for vegetarians. We also asked for extra mustard and vinegar as us and the Germans were nearly coming to blows over the few sachets of our chosen dressings!

Theatre Royal Bar is on the corner of Governor’s Street and Bishop Rapallo’s Ramp, apparently the cooking is South African, which is even more surprising that they provide vegan food so that was a real plus for me. A good evening out, good company, and at our end of the table, we hardly talked about geocaching because the conversation never stopped (apart from eating).

Rare pic of roughseas, yes, the one with the white face (must have been the flash) and the smell up her nose at the near end of the table

Related to restaurants, or rather food reviews, I’ve read a few blogs recently where people pay amazing sums of money to eat tiny morsels of food as a ‘taster menu’. This is nouvelle cuisine with a seriously clever twist.

Those of you who are around my age (ie most of you) will remember when nouvelle cuisine was all the rage. The claim was that the food was fresher and lighter (and no doubt brighter), and the portions were small and the prices were huge.

Presentation was an important aspect. Um, I would rather pay for more food than someone faffing around twirling a dill leaf into a spiral or whatever and giving me a flake of salmon or a shaving of smoked salmon and adding some whacky combinations to it.

But these taster menus take it to a fine art. £50 or 50€ minimum to eat less food than you get for a few tapas? And who on earth wants four desserts? This is not eating by any stretch of the imagination. Eating so many different foods and flavours is just plain silly. If I thought £28 for two burgers and chips was dear, I sure as hell wouldn’t be paying more than £100 for six or seven bite-sized morsels, flavoured with pecan butter, dressed with lovage vinegar, topped with a whipped mousse of caviare… You get the idea.

People in western societies with enough money like to eat out, and get take-aways, or ready-made meals. Money rich, time poor (as I’ve said before).

But I don’t need to eat ten different foods in one meal. And if I ate one food, and it was nice, I would want more of it, not lots of different ones. It’s sort of greedy in a different way. ‘I want that, and that, and that.’

My burger looks better by the minute!

Christmas lights

More on ‘love’ on Clouds

Recipe pages

I’ve been revamping the recipe page(s), so for those of you who are interested, it’s now organised in sections and you can see all the sections and recipes when you hover over it. I’ll try and add more as and when, but I need to find posts from the past first!

The headings are self-explanatory so browse where your interest lies, and I’ll try and post a note when I have added more sections/recipes.

In the meantime, for those interested in the Indian bread, I have included the recipe for that.

Health warning – do not read this if you are hungry

Gibraltar has started to become a sea of red and white, if one can have a sea of red and white.

Gone is the red, white and blue bunting to celebrate the Diamond Jubilee, and in its place is the red and white to symbolise Gibraltar in advance of National Day celebrations on Monday (September 10).

Red and white down Main Street, approaching The Convent

Quattro Stagioni and Gib flags

Even Morrisons staff are allowed to abandon their green and white school uniforms for red and white patriotic clothing.

Morries supports Gib – it would do, given the prices they charge

In John Mack Square/Piazza there was a fine band.

Jazz band in the Piazza

I asked Partner to record it with the iPhone. He didn’t. When I started, they, er, stopped playing.

Pix of National Day to follow on Monday. Maybe vids too. Maybe not.

In the meantime, last night, we celebrated redundancy with a take-away pizza from Quattro Stagioni on Jumpers Bastion.

Many years ago when we were affluent, we had a phase of eating there. As did Pippa, because we sat outside in the evening sun. Here is his review and some photos.

Since the opening of Mamma Mia, Quattro Stagioni must have taken a real drop in takings. Mamma Mia is in Boyd Street, opposite the Queen’s Hotel, and basically in the bottom corner of the car park by the cable car, ie nearer to town.

These two Italian restaurants are within five minutes walk of each other. Mamma Mia is invariably busier than Quattro. It is also cheaper, and if they are aiming at tourists, they are far more likely to be visiting the cable car than wandering along Jumper’s Bastion, so not a bad location.

I’ve never eaten at Mamma Mia so I can’t compare a sit down meal at both places. I’m not planning to eat there either as I think Quattro is a much nicer location and the menu is better.

Let’s compare take-away pizzas though. A nice simple like with like.

It is my job to ring up and order a pizza. Naturally this leads to a marital dispute. For some reason my partner thinks I should order in English. I have no idea why, as I can speak and understand Spanish better on the ‘phone than he can. I doubt he could get the order right in English, let alone Spanish.

Anyway, as he set off for Quattro before I ordered I had the flat to myself and happily ordered in Spanish.

Readers will not be surprised to hear that I ordered a pizza vegetariana. Grande, grandissimo, I added. Con aceitunas. Negra? she asked. Sí.

Pizza before my additions

So we have the biggest veg pizza with black olives. I have learned it is not cheap a good idea to ask for extra toppings that I can put on myself, but I had no black olives in, (note to self – buy some) but at least Quattro does chuck a fair handful on. Once back home, I chopped up some hot green finger chillies, some garlic, and chucked on the last of the capers. (Note to self, buy more capers).

I like this pizza. I like the courgette and the aubergine, as it gives it a really fresh veg taste. Plus there is no gloopy tomato sauce sogging the dough, and very little cheese. The dough is extremely thin and crisp.

Added to, warmed up and looking good

Onto a Mamma Mia pizza. Same thing, another vegetarian one, but with no extra toppings. I added green olives, and capers, chillies, garlic again.

This is a totally different pizza, onion, sweetcorn and peppers are the main toppings, before I add my extras.

Mamma Mia pizza – with extras!

Despite how full this pizza looks, it wasn’t as big as the other one. I should have either ordered a grandissimo one from Mamma Mia, or two of this size as we ganneted it all and still felt hungry. No complaints about the pizza, good dough, and enough veg.

OK. Bottom line.

Large pizza from Quattro with extra olives (£1) – £13.50

Pizza of indeterminate size from Mamma Mia – £7.50 (no extra toppings)

Big price difference. But, we had two pieces left from last night’s Quattro one that served for brunch today, and the other one from Mamma Mia just wasn’t big enough for a decent meal for two people. Two would have been better, which makes the price difference insignificant.

I like the ingredients on the Quattro one better, but the Mamma Mia one is OK for a change.

What about Indian take-aways?

Well, we used to eat at the Maharajah on Queensway Quay, which according to the staff at their Tuckey’s Lane restaurant (off Main St, by Barclays), is currently closed.

Part of the recent take-away flurry was because I was feeling a bit off colour the other week and totally incapable of cooking, so poor old Partner came in from work and then traipsed out to pick up some food.

From the Maharajah, I ordered garlic nan, peas pilau, bhuna veg curry and sag aloo. I think the only thing on the take-away menu was the garlic nan (we didn’t have a menu at home at the time, but Partner brought one back). I do like flexible restaurants where you can order what you want, and they just say yes and get on with it.

The Maharajah meal was slightly under £15. This was for two people, and one greedy Partner had seconds. He then took the rest of it to work for his meal the next day (much to my annoyance when I fancied some reheated curry).

Maharajah meal

Needless to state, Pippa has reviewed the Maharajah restaurant on Queensway Marina more than once.. And when Partner was chatting while collecting his food the other evening, the waiter reminded him that we could always take the dog into the town restaurant too! OK, so they want our money, but that is a good way to go about it.

There are other take-aways in Gib, we have used the Mumtaz and the Mumbai, but Maharajah is still our fave. It doesn’t have that same sauce dished up with everything that only varies by a couple of spices. Or if it does, they do it more cleverly. I like the flavour of spices to come through, and not some claggy sauce with some hotness added.

So, once that flurry of take-aways was over, it was back to making more of my own Indian food. Moving on from fruit chutneys to tomato. It was OK, but I prefer the fruit ones. Oddly, they are actually sharper. [recipes may appear or may not at some point]

Mustard seed tomato chutney

I have plenty of other news but Gibraltar is chilling out this weekend. Celebrating being Gibraltarian, British, and definitely not Spanish.

Wishing everyone in Gibraltar a great National Day on Monday. And apparently the British Foreign Office in Whitehall will be flying the Gib flag for us on Monday. Good one. Just make sure you keep those naughty Spanish fisherpeople and their Guardia Civil escort out of Gib and British territorial waters.

Foreign Office ministers David Lidington and Mark Simmonds, respectively the ministers for Europe and the Overseas Territories, have said they welcome the raising of the Gibraltar Flag over the FCO in Whitehall to mark Gibraltar Day. 
 

“From now on, the flags of each UK Overseas Territory will be flown over the FCO one day every year, to mark a significant day in each of their respective histories,” said an F&CO spokesman. 

“I send my greetings and best wishes to all Gibraltarians ahead of Gibraltar National Day. It is a day to celebrate the people of Gibraltar, their community and identity.

“It is fitting that Gibraltar’s flag should be flown annually in London to mark this occasion,” said Mr Lidington, who has responsibility for the EU and Gibraltar.

Source: Gib Chron

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Saturday sarcasm

Oh! Dearest Readers! You will not be able to contain yourselves with this tastiest of posts.

The long-awaited totally unoriginal recipe for fruit chutney with some brilliant unique photos is about to be revealed.

[For anyone who has no idea what this is about you may wish to check out my Clouds post about how to become Freshly Pressed and The Daily Post]

Firstly, take some fruit. But not just any fruit. I recommend, pineapple, peaches, mango. But not all of them.

Pineapple lends a slightly tarter flavour and a different texture, peaches and mango are sweeter and softer. In fact, I haven’t tried mango but that really doesn’t matter does it?

Anyway, I had two peaches in the fridge. Here is an outstanding photo of two peaches in case you don’t know what they look like.

Two peaches

Method.

Chop peaches.

Here is another super photo, this time of chopped peaches.

Two chopped peaches

Put chopped peaches in pan. Add salt, pepper, lemon juice, cayenne, cumin and fennel.

Two chopped peaches and spices in pan

This recipe calls for cinnamon but I don’t have any because I am not keen on that – note the interesting personal touch I have added to this recipe?

I also don’t have any ground fennel in the roughseas spice cupboard but I do have seeds, so I riskily used some of those. Would that work? Was I taking my life in my hands by departing so much from the recipe?

While busy reading fascinating recipe blogs on the internet, don’t forget to occasionally get up and check chutney to make sure it is not sticking or burning. Oh, I forgot to tell you to turn on the heat, make sure it is low. I have electric which is pretty smooth, but if you have a fierce gas flame, eg bottled gas, then add a drop of water.

Another option is to put a lid on the pan to keep steam/fruit juice contained. It wasn’t an option for me as I have no lid for this pan. Another rather interesting personal touch I feel.

When you are happy with the consistency, turn off the heat.

Wow!! Wasn’t that the most unique and interesting recipe you have ever read?

To be serious, it’s actually adapted from a pineapple chutney recipe. I have used pineapple on its own, with peaches, and today was obviously peaches on their own.

Spices:

One and a half teaspoons of -

Salt
Fennel (ground – but seeds work well, fenugreek or celery seeds would be good too)
Cumin

Less than a teaspoon of -
Cayenne
Black pepper

Juice of one lemon

Courtesy of Julie Sahni and her brilliant Classic Indian Vegetarian Cookery book.

Served with curried potatoes – another amazing imaginative unique recipe which involves parboiling potatoes, draining them, chucking on some garam masala, and then crisping them up in the oven for 20 or 30 minutes, at 220/230 fan assisted. I take them out when they look ready.

Left over chard tarted up with cauliflower.

Salad of some greens from a bag at Morrisons, tomatoes, cucumber, bean sprouts, green chilli, lemon juice, salt and pepper, fresh coriander. I didn’t make enough of that.

Peach chutney with other curried goodies

And, here is the delicious peas pilao from the other day, but as this is not a cookery blog I’m not adding a recipe for that.

Peas pilao

Let’s cleverly segue onto something serious. Speaking of food I think I can neatly talk about the Spanish fishing dispute. According to the Gib Chron and El Pais, it seems Madrid is most annoyed with Gib. I couldn’t find anything on the Gib Gov website which presumably, like me is on summer hours.

Anyway, in a nutshell, Gib has announced no fishing with nets in our waters, ie the three mile limit, following the results of the environmental report commissioned earlier.

If you haven’t read my previous post on the fishing dispute, Spanish fishers want to fish in Gib waters, because apart from anything else Spain doesn’t recognise Gib/UK territorial waters.

The current – socialist – Gib government revoked the fishing agreement made by the previous – right of centre – Gib government, saying it was illegal. A nice process was agreed, lots of talks, and the commissioning of the environmental report.

Clearly Spain expected that report to say it would be OK to fish the hell out of Gib waters.

Let’s add another personal touch, aka an anecdote. My partner works with mostly Spaniards. One of these used to sell fish.

‘Spaniards have depleted Spanish waters, Moroccan waters, and now they want to decimate the Gibraltar waters too.

‘We live for today, we don’t look at the future. We want a big sack today, a bigger one tomorrow, and then, there is nothing left.’ [Sack can refer to anything, fish, money, crops, whatever].

And in terms of nothing left, unions and workers in Spain continue to demonstrate every Friday about the job cuts, public sector cuts, increase in indirect taxes, and reduction in labour rights. [Source: Revolting Europe]

But in sunny Gib, we are all still on summer hours, although the unemployment situation is increasingly kicking in here too, with more and more people struggling to find work, invariably on the black.

There are fewer available jobs in the job centre. People’s wages have been cut here in Gib, and desperate cross-border workers continue to push down the rate for the job in order to find food, pay rent and mortgage in Spain. Meanwhile other workers are content to merrily take the Spanish dole at 80% of their Gib wages for the first six months of their two year benefit. Sadly it decreases slightly after that. Is anyone still in any doubt why Spain has a problema economica?

A few more pix of sunny Gib on the slideshow from last weeks spooch mooch around the back of town.

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Revolting Europe

El Pais

Gib Chron

Domestics

No, no not cleaners. Although we did have one once.

My Partner did exactly the same as my mother and went round cleaning the house the day before so it was nice for when she arrived. I ask you. The Roughseas foot went firmly down and we managed not to get her back after we took a holiday. We slipped back into happy slovenliness, rather like now.

Firstly, domestics on the blog. Both thehistorytourist and canoe & communications have recently given me The Versatile Blogger Award. I shan’t bother with the silly rules but I will mention the two blogs which are both well worth a visit.

In their own words:

canoe & communications

Imagine yourself walking up a wooded path to a place where you can talk with others about ideas, nature, travel, literature and events–Canoe Communications Blog.   It’s a blog where you can learn a little about Midwestern culture and life and more.

thehistorytourist

This is a travel diary about trips to my favorite destination – historic sites.   I’m not a historian but a lover of history, especially early American history.   And I’m lucky enough to live in the Washington DC area, where there’s an endless supply to feed my addiction.  I write this blog with the hope that you’ll be entertained and find some useful information for your travels.

I’ve learned more about American history in the last few weeks than in my entire life!! Great photos too.

And I should add a special thanks to thehistorytourist for including Pippa in the awards as well, but I’m not letting him near the keyboard at the moment. Dogblogging to resume, later. Ish. With photos of Pippa’s encounter with the lovely vampire dog upstairs.

Melody has given me the One Lovely Blog Award. I was extremely flattered to be the odd person out on her list of seven nominees, which apart from mine were all photography blogs. As she said:

Okay, this is the odd man out today – er, woman, actually – because it isn’t strictly a photography blog, although there are great snaps here too.  It is stories from everyday life in Gibraltar, which I am finding to be very informative and interesting!  Check it out!

Thanks Melody. What I liked about that, was that my blog about life in a tiny place, thousands of miles away from most of you, is interesting enough to make it onto a list, when all the others are stunning visual photoblogs. It’s nice to know that in a different way, people enjoy visiting mine. In this case, I definitely liked being odd one out.

Here is the link to Melody’s page where she lists the photoblogs, so if you like photography, you may want to have a peek.

Melody herself has two blogs, one about the garden, and the other has beautiful photos – usually of her gorgeous flowers – and with a poem. The link above is to the poetry/photoblog, so if you like either photography or poetry or both, well worth a visit.

And I’ll end with The Commentator Award which I received from Rahul who is an engineering student from Kerala and I love his photos of India.

This is a slightly different award in that it is based on the most frequent commenters from your stats. I shan’t embarrass the six of you who appear on my stats by naming you and I’m sure you can work out who you are.

I think that’s it for awards, thank you for the nominations. I’m not writing boring stuff about me, and I’m not listing a zillion blogs. What I will do is start a new ‘blogs I visit’ page as I’ve found some other interesting ones since I first set up the initial page. And there is nothing worse than a long list.

And, I’ve also altered settings so that the blog shows one post only. I hope that improves loading time, please let me know if you have any views. There’s a balance between faster loading and being able to read quickly by scrolling.

Next. A quick nip to Spain.

‘We were expecting you yesterday,’ said our neighbours (in Spanish, obviously) when we arrived on the Sunday for a long weekend due to Queen’s birthday holiday.

‘I’ve watered the garden, but I ran out of water from your containers so I used mine.’

Well that’s very sweet, but I don’t think an 85 year-old pensioner should be using his metered water for my garden. So I suggested we install the water butt. We’ve had this for years. We never installed it in the UK, and we’ve never put it up in Spain either, partly because there is no guttering. Its most useful role has been storing fake Christmas trees.

Up it went, balanced on a crate. José came round to inspect and promptly put the wheelbarrow in front to shade the butt from the sun. We had to prove it was high enough off the ground to get the watering can underneath, and with that he was satisfied. Good old boy.

Safely installed

On the way back there was a bush fire. It was a biggy. Other photos will be on the Landy blog.

Smoke

On the Gib front? A new bus service has started, a number seven to Mount Alvernia, which is an old peoples’ home. Some of the older residents are fit enough to travel into town, and it will also provide a service for relatives, friends, charity workers, and staff who work there (depending on their hours of course). There is a trial period of three months. Nice move there.

Samantha Sacramento Minster for Equality and Social Services noted that she is delighted that this service has been commenced in response to requests made by visitors to Mount Alvernia, as well as representations made by the charity Friends of Mount Alvernia and that this was long overdue given the location of Mount Alvernia and the access difficulties that it entails.

Commenting on the above, the Minister noted: “We must be mindful of the fact that given that the majority of the residents at Mount Alvernia are in their 80s and 90s, their visitors will mainly be their spouses and children, most of whom will be elderly themselves. Historically, access to Mount Alvernia has always been a struggle to the extent that it has been a deterrent for elderly relatives who would otherwise visit more frequently.

As it’s Saturday, it’s reenactment day. At noon, there is a march up and down Main Street which is always colourful and interesting.

Having a chat

Like the last post, I’ll finish with food. If you’ve read my Quorn post on Clouds, you’ll know I’m not a huge fan of the stuff (ie Quorn, I like food).

Due to the bush fire the other day, we had a rather extended journey as the road was closed off, and we had to go back on ourselves and detour. Arriving at Morrisons, I grabbed a bag of ready made pasta off the shelf for a fast, easy and hopefully tasty meal. Making pasta is not my strong point, which I wrote about on Ravioli unravelled.

Recommended

I’d bought some setas (oyster mushrooms) in Spain and had some left, so thought a complementary sauce would be better than the usual tomato. I also thought there weren’t many ravioli in the bag, so a sauce was needed. And an extremely large green salad. They were yum.

Yum

They were so yum that I went to look for the spinach and ricotta version the other day but obviously everyone else thought that was yum and there were none left. I bought tomato and basil or something tortellini, which I did serve with a tomato sauce. More yum. And – I made two meals out of that lot.

No recipes, you all know how to buy pasta from the supermarket and make mushroom or tomato sauce. It’s not vegan, but at least the egg is free-range. In summer when inspiration is lacking, it makes a great meal with a good salad.

Makes a brunch too. Buen provecho.

Last of the tortellini and salad for brunch

The rain in Spain…..

…..stays mainly on the Costa del Sol and along the N340. Or at least it did at the weekend on our journey back there.

Luckily it wasn’t chucking it down, just a few odd light showers. The good thing about grey overcast rainy skies is that you haven’t got brilliant blue skies and dazzing sunlight beating through the glass. So it was a welcome change.

Returning to the finca, there were no neighbours outside, they were clearly hiding from the rain.

Pippa was most disappointed as he wasn’t allowed outside to lie in the wet by his gate.

We left the door slightly ajar for the light and fresh air and he glared at us from underneath his table den.

Preparing the veg for our meal. The Spanish are obsessed with cutting green off veg. The shop woman asked me if I wanted the greens cutting off, and I said no. If I hadn’t wanted the green, I might as well have bought dried onions, and even if I didn’t want them, the chickens would eat it. Waste, waste, waste…….

As you do in Spain, we sat and watched the rain, waited for our food (bean casserole), and considered an early night in order. I’d got the salad prepared for supper – I’ve made that mistake before, going for a quick siesta after lunch and then sleeping through until goodness knows when, and totally missing out on supper.

When the shops re-opened at 5pm we decided to brave the rain, which was bucketing down by now, and go for some olive oil. I put on one of my many leaking Goretexes, and we grabbed our huge Gibtelecom umbrella for the five minute dash down the town.

Our luck was in at the super. Olive oil was on special offer at just over ten euros for five litres. When we first arrived (some ten years ago), the good stuff was around 15-17€ for five litres. Then the price steadily increased each season until it was around a disgraceful 25€ – apparently because of some problems with the olive harvest. Really? It wouldn’t have been because there was lots of money floating around at the time would it?

Now, it’s the cheapest I’ve ever known it. Clearly no problems with the olive harvest now there is no money. Good quality extra virgin olive oil is around 12-14€ for five litres, and if you time it right, it gets brought down to 10€ or so. I think we paid 10.40€ this weekend.

I do think top class olive oil is absolutely essential. Apart from the fact that it is pretty good for you, it’s also less rich and sickly than using butter, for example. I learned from Adelina not to skimp on it, so a healthy amount always gets chucked in whatever I am cooking. I also use it for making any roux-based sauces.

Olive oil duly bought, we ran back up the street, getting totally wet and giggling away like a pair of kids playing in the rain. We ate our meal, fell into bed – and the asparagus and salad greens were still in the fridge the morning after. Note, this turned out to be a bonus in disguise, as the asparagus is now providing salad pots this week.

It was a good thing it rained out on Saturday, because it was bright and clear on Sunday morning for the Romería. Once, in the years we have been here, it has been cancelled due to the rain. They try and leave it as late as possible before they cancel, but given the preparations to deck out the caravans, buy all the food and drink in, cancel work for those who work in the fields – it has to be cancelled on the Saturday. Even worse, then they have to reapply to hold the procession on another Sunday the same month that doesn’t clash with any other procession, festival or cycle race.

One interesting change I noticed this time was the difference in fashions. I thought those frilly frocks were always the same, but no, it seems even they go through changes.

When we first arrived, my neighbour and all her pals would dress up in those frocks with huge spots on them. Awful in design terms to me. There were far less spots in front of my eyes this time though. It seems spots have gone out of fashion. Interestingly there were more skirts as well. They were in the same style, tight over the hips and then flaring out (presumably so women can actually move in them) with the essential frills at the bottom.

My favourite was the one you can just see a glimpse of on the crossing here. An abstract-patterned skirt, with a pale top and a bright gold sash. Worn with a pair of flat brown boots. Very classy. Knocked spots off the spots.

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The rain in Spain …..

… hasn’t happened very much this winter at all in my part of Spain, and we are all moaning about how much we need the water.

A rare sight - a wet table

Rose in the rain

Normally the winter months ie Jan to March do see some decent rainfall, with snow on the mountains, but this year there has been muy poco (very little).

Naturally, on Saturday morning in Gibraltar, with a sulking tumble dryer, we awoke to hear the sound of rain on the window. Quite heavy. ‘Quickly,’ I ordered, from the comfort of my thermarest, ‘Get the washing in.’ Which he did.

Hey, he’d got up to make coffee, might as well make himself useful while I grabbed a few more minutes snooze time.

He’d done it remarkably quickly, so I draped it all around the flat, and hoped it would be dry on our return.

The journey up to Spain was cloudy, but no torrential downpours.

And then, it started spotting. As we approached our normal dogwalking stop by the beach, it was bucketing down. The dog doesn’t like the rain so we by-passed that one.

I jumped out elsewhere to take a few piccies.

Boats on the beach - not going anywhere

We arrived home, jumped out, ran inside. We opened the door to watch the rain and the dog promptly ran outside!! He came back inside equally promptly. Silly dog.

It didn’t last long however, and today dawned bright and sunny although with a cold wind.

Just as I was getting brunch ready, José called me.

My heart sank. We were having some left over bean slop for breakfast and some tempeh sandwiches.

He proffered a plate of sweet Spanish cakey things that they eat at Easter. Adelina had got two glasses ready for us to get rat-arsed on anis while getting sugar-overdosed on the cakey things. Roscas de Pascua.

Roscas

I explained we were coming back to Gib so we couldn’t drink while driving and we were about to eat and ….

Their little faces fell. Partner came out and saved the day by picking up one of the cakes and shovelling it in. I caved in and said I would have a glass of anis after all (passenger me so no worries there). They looked much happier.

There was a long chat about how they hadn’t seen us over Easter to offer us these goodies, and we were often gone too soon.

We sighed in sympathy and pointed out that we did have to go to work (well, Partner does), and there ain’t much of that in España right now.

From there we discussed world politics as you do, which as usual included Gib’s status and the Spanish claim, and Argentina sabre-rattling about the Falklands. I did notice some weeks ago that the first motion on the agenda for the new Argentine parliament was about Las Malvinas. (Spanish for Falkland Islands). I do think President Kirchner should back off with her bellicose bollocks, or perhaps she thinks she is the new Margaret Thatcher?

However, we managed to avoid falling out with our neighbours, and in the midst of these political hot topics, Adelina was busy saying how she had made the roscas. This was probably because after so many years of living next to us, they know exactly what we eat and don’t eat. So many bought Spanish sweet things are full of lard. I still left the roscas alone, and we agreed to take the rest of them back with us as Partner’s compañeros will no doubt appreciate them tomorrow. Or maybe not.

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Working holiday part 2

Well the Easter Bunny didn’t bring us any choccy eggs which is just as well because we wouldn’t have eaten them.

But we did get a rather nice freebie just before the holiday which will come in most useful.

Doing a refurb always involves getting rid of stuff. The firm Partner is working for at the moment ripped out a kitchen. Did anyone want this granite? A breakfast bar, a corner piece and a long piece with a sink cut-out.

‘That will do nicely for your finca won’t it?’ said one colleague. Hey, we don’t even have to put up our hand and ask. Everyone knows we are tight-arsed into the environment and recycling.

Partner agreed. So instead of being taken to the tip and chucked out, it got put in our truck to take back to Spain.

And as luck would have it, when we arrived, one of our neighbours, his son and his son’s mate were outside. Quick as a flash they were commandeered to unload, the two young lads picking up the huge piece as though it was cotton wool.

‘That’s for jovenes,’ [young people] said our neighbour sagely as he and Partner took the two smaller pieces. Offers of tinnies of beers were refused so we’ll find another way to pay back.

So after ten years of washing up in a plastic bowl on top of a Black and Decker workmate, and throwing the water over the wall, I may get a sink. But hell, there is no rush after all this time. And I need to design and measure up first. That could take a while.

On the road back to Gib we saw this rather neat car flying past us.

‘Aston Martin, DB4′ said Partner. (He likes Aston Martins although not as much as Land Rovers).

Flying too fast to take a photo but we spotted it again in the frontier queue. They must have taken the scenic route after they flew past us.

‘No, I think I’m wrong,’ said Partner sadly. ‘The front end doesn’t look right.’

Any views dear car experts?

Having been to more than enough shops for one day (previous post), we rejected the idea of Morrisons, and I decided I could rustle something up with what little we had in. [tempeh and tofu with a couple of dipping sauces for those of you who are interested - the sauces are probably worth a post at some point]

So we got in, unpacked, and then took an evening walk on Easter Monday with the dog.

Gib wasn’t exactly busy. Just how we like it.

Looking down Main Street (north)

Looking up Main Street (south, obviously)

Looking up the Rock from Referendum Gates

Once through the gates, looking up from Trafalgar Cemetary with the cable car and Trafalgar Heights building on the right of the pic – Trafalgar Heights has a marked resemblance to the leaning tower of Pisa for some strange reason

And down to Queensway Quay marina with the boat masts just visible through the entrance

A lovely ending to a great long weekend.

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