The Consequences Of Inspiration

San Fernando to Cádiz

2012-01-30T07:40:00.005+01:00

Chickpeas with Chorizo

2012-01-29T19:33:00.000+01:00

Spicy Spanish Sausage
vigorously simmering
in chickpeas and wine
into a bowl with
a quartered boiled egg
and it's
mine
mine
mine.

Clams with ham and sherry

2012-01-28T02:01:00.000+01:00

Frying onions, garlic and serrano ham, poured in the sherry, threw in the clams, turned up the heat and upward rose, the smells that set me on this prose. Amongst the mahogany and velvety sea, the clams fell open seductively, the salty, nutty aromas, they said, 'Make sure you mop up this sauce with bread.'

Albóndigas

2012-01-23T01:00:00.006+01:00

I have been recently enthused to take my cooking to another level and great inspiration has come in the form of Rick Stein and his recipe book on Spain that was given to me at Christmas. I expect to share a few photos and words on them here this year.

In the photo below we have Rick's meatball recipe that includes green olives and Jamon Serrano. I made so many meatballs that I decided to make two sauces, so for the second I used Almonds - my sauce of the moment - using Janet Mendal's recipe.

San Fernando Birds

2012-01-22T01:06:00.000+01:00

2012: The Video

2012-01-04T10:14:00.004+01:00

2012: Day 4

2012-01-03T14:13:00.002+01:00

Deliver Rob and Ang through the green hills and early morning mist to Gibraltar airport. AB and I trundle home gently by the coast roads stopping for a moment in the still heat and golden sunhine of El Palmar.

Back in Cádiz we take a post trip jug of glowing golden beer on the paseo before we batten down the hatches back in the flat for a night of fish fingers chips and beans and dirty rotten scoundrels.

2012: Day 3

2012-01-02T13:57:00.006+01:00

From the hills we take a sandy walk beside umbrella pines down to Caños de Meca. We ramble through smells of lavender, rosemary and honey coloured shrubs that smelt sickly sweet. The sky is Grey.

Later, we drive to the end of nearby Zahora and find one of the only restaurants open. It sits grandly next to the beach. During our late lunch, Rob excitedly tells us about the battle of Trafalgar over a Lamb Tajin. Meanwhile the sky turns a beautiful blue.

2012: Day 2

2012-01-01T15:24:00.003+01:00

Drive to Gibraltar to pick up friends Bob and Ang. On the return leg we stop at Arte Vida in Tarifa for a seafood lunch of Clams and prawns. The sky outside is wide and wild and the sea pure.

Onto Zahara where we take a paddle and throw a tennis ball around before celebrating our new year with sunset and stars on the balcony. Both the music and drink are bubbling.

The town is empty in the evening but we stumble upon a hotel restaurant and our fairly low expectations are dazzled by an exceptional procession of fabulous food. Tuna with Soya, battered boquerones, griddled artichokes, melt in your mouth steak with chips, a red wine spillage, fits of laughter and sweet wine with pudding.

Here's to Eternity.
May we spend it in
as good of company
as this night finds us.
-Anonymous

2012: Day 1

2011-12-31T14:32:00.003+01:00

The sun sets on 2011 for the last time as we sit on the beach at Zahara de los Atunes. We are checked into an empty hotel for a couple of nights and await the arrival of team Alchemy tomorrow. Spend the evening on the chilly balcony calmly counting down the clock with guacamole and taramasalata dips until it’s Tumblers of Cava with 12 grapes at midnight as we see the new year in, in bed.

Walking in the Air

2011-12-25T09:58:00.000+01:00

Madrid: 8:05 to Cádiz

2011-11-21T01:52:00.006+01:00

Early Monday morning, station approach, temperatures dropping towards winter as the wind bullies leaves and twigs off trees and great roars of traffic thunder over roads in the darkness.

Differing smells drift from doorways as shutters are lifted up and another day begins in Irvine. We join the fast walkers snaking our way to the station onto our super modern train, free earphones and leg space and other expectations of the developed world.

Joyous Late Breakfast

2011-11-20T13:03:00.002+01:00

Madrid: Two days like this (Day 2)

2011-11-20T00:16:00.018+01:00

Awoken Sunday morning by a string quartet in the street outside. We later breakfast down towards the Paseo del Prado where there is ham, there is egg and there is potato. I am joyous as I neck my coffee.

With rain threatening are umbrella-less state we enter the Thyssen-Bornemisza museum where there was an exhibition of Architectural paintings - perspectives, legends and ruins. We are inspired and our imaginations are decorated with new ideas and ideals. An expensive bottle of Coca Cola follows.

Later, enthused, we are further motivated by a selection of world food at San Anton Market in Chueca. I take a glass of white wine, AB Vermouth as we soak up the noise, people watch, lean on the bar, sample some sushi, watch plates of food go by.

We then meet dear friends who we met at Active language in Cádiz, five years ago, where all this started. First we meet the big-eared-tripper who is as impulsive as ever and seems to have had another haircut by a man with poor eye sight. He leads us to meet Seblon in Barrio La Latina who has cloned himself and we enjoy small beers standing in a crescent shape.

Next, Seblon and his clone lead us to Barrio Lavapies where AB and I settle a curry score we had decided earlier on in the day. It was a wonderfully, fresh, herby and light curry and it went to the top of my Bhoona list which is the style of curry I have almost always eaten due to my Dad’s recommendation back in 1996. (Restaurant Moharaj C/ Ave Maria, 26)

Friends reunited again after the curry with SB and the boys. The flat capped one (D) is in full flow and is dryly punctuated by the other (J). They are quite a team as a waiter with century old eyes puts plate after plate of tapas on the bar for D to consume with his luminous drink. After a red wine, AB and I drift back to the hotel, full and fatigued.

Madrid: Two days like this (Day 1)

2011-11-19T00:13:00.025+01:00

With open arms we stood in the centre of Madrid surrounded by grand buildings, those metaphors of power that stand so strong yet so detached. It was a weekend away; a city-break in the capital but above all it was a trip to see Elbow perform.

The weather was dull, clouds clung close to rooftops throughout but we were in good company and did not walk the earth alone. Our hotel was bordering on plush and we threw those grand curtains wide in our bedroom and were graced with the bustle of milling Madrileños and tourists in Puerta Del Sol.

Sat around jugs of pale beer come the late afternoon with friend SB from Jerez, and a couple of lovely lads from Essex who were accompanying her. As promised I wrote one of them a limerick.

A flat-capped man, hard to contain
Was on his way to Southern Spain
He liked a long chat
‘till he bought a prickly hat
That itched away at his brain.

Garlic prawns and sweet, heavy red wine at Casa Del Abuelo for AB and I before into white taxis we bent - SB with a bottle of Rum in her handbag - to the Elbow concert in Palacio Vistalegre at about 9 p.m. The gig was exceptional, the sound was quality and subsequently our heads were reminiscent of mirrorballs upon exit.

Back in the centre around about midnight we dodged rain showers, uttered lost words, stood surrounded by Angels and drunks and admired glistening pizza in neat little rows before tiredness pulled us to bed. The poetry of getting ruined.

Sevilla: Night & Day

2011-11-13T23:52:00.002+01:00

La Sierra: Grazalema (Lake Restaurant)

2011-11-02T02:05:00.002+01:00

La Sierra: Benamahoma

2011-11-01T17:21:00.002+01:00

La Isla: Birthday menu

2011-10-15T22:13:00.004+02:00

LA CARTA
October 15 2011
Guests: T and Buzz, Jones and PearlO, Conan and Cána.
Thank you AB for creating an unforgettable menu and everybody else for a forgettable evening. Only joking. It was the best and I look forward with fortified feelings and ardent fervour to our next grand meeting x

First
Manzanilla Sherry
Fried and salted Almonds.
Olives stuffed with Chilli.
Olive and anchovy Tapenade with Pitta bread.

Second
Manzanilla / Fino Sherry
Pepper Seared Tuna with Cucumber and Spring Onion
Pesto, red onion & Goats Cheese tartlets
Spicy Feta and Watermelon Kebabs

Third
Dry Oloroso Sherry
Chorizo fried in Sherry and honey
Aubergine Morcilla with Quails egg and roast pepper sauce

Fourth
Ribero de Duero Roble
British Bangers with 3 Mustards

Fifth
Light Moscatel
Endive cradles of Roquefort with a honey and fino dressing
Smoked Cheddar

Sixth
Canasta cream sherry
Bitter Chocolate chunks
Mango slices

Seventh heaven
Black Martini (Made by Buzz)
White rum, espresso coffee and chocolate liquer garnished with a dusting of cocoa powder.

Cádiz: Day Off

2011-10-12T15:08:00.007+02:00

'The Summer most long' read the headlines in the daily Cádiz.
'Barbaric' shouted some.
'Que calor!' said others.

It was the day of being Hispanic (so a day off) and the day before my birthday so we went to Cádiz under another striking blue sky. Arrived at the Duke of Wellington's old house for some large gin-tonics served by a delightfully camp bronzed waiter. Sat in the garden nibbling nuts and gently tipping our fishbowls inwards resulting in positive projections outwards.
‘This is perfect’ said AB as we sat surrounded by high white walls, deep blue sky and lengthy wafts of wonderful silence.

For lunch, onto El Gaucho, a new restaurant which had recently got people talking about quality soft, succulent red meats. We ate Argentinean style Chorizo followed by a Churassco of meat (grilled beef) and then Steak with Cheese and mushroom sauce and all this mixed marvelously with drops of red wine.

A dark sweet Sherry with Chocolate cake for desert pretty much finishes us off and we set about a long, dry and hot walk out of the old town up to Playa Victoria, for a merry and heavy swim about 5 o'clock. The refreshing and gracious blue waves washed and refreshed us before we fell asleep on the golden sands.

Didn’t need any dinner that night, went to bed after midnight in Paris.

Cádiz: A Farewell to Primo (The Movie)

2011-10-02T23:46:00.001+02:00

A Farewell to Primo

2011-10-01T21:38:00.002+02:00

Cádiz: A Farewell to Primo (Saturday afternoon)

2011-10-01T12:50:00.007+02:00

After checking in at homophobic Hotel Spa in the new town we taxi for Lunch at La Caleta, and gaze out upon bobbing boats, blue skies and waves of sand coming towards us with the wind. Chemical lagers were soon neutralised by a perfect potato salad peppered with Parsley, a plate of Chocos Fritos soaked in lemon and then a plate of Tuna. I try to get Primo to reflect on some highlights of his time in Cadiz but he isn't having any of it as our conversation and thoughts are interrupted by precarious parasols.

We then move on to Bar Manteca in the heart of la Viña to meet Ricardo, a local friend and businessman. I calmly sip my sherry as Eduardo and Ricardo engage in some lively and manly banter. Smells of cured ham and cheese waft out the bar window, the sun bakes the walls opposite, the street alive with chatter. It's here you can eat food off greaseproof paper, the barmen sing and everyone's shouting at each other. It makes you feel like you've found the real Spain. I'd recommend some sliced tomato with a glass of Manzanilla.

Third stop was at the new just-above-the-beach-bar at Playa Santa Maria. We order two smoother beers while still dusting sand off ourselves from lunch. The sun melts our faces. Conversation almost reaches new depths and is punctuated by heavy ponders on gently crashing waves and newly forming horizons. I'll miss knowing Primo's not around in Cádiz anymore, but I'm happy for him that he's 'sacked things off' and is looking for new 'massive' adventures wherever it may take him. Suerta y Buen viaje, Primo.

La Sierra: Trout and About in the hills

2011-09-25T23:12:00.002+02:00

"Ah the sweet smell of figs and the gurgle of the Rio Majaceite" said AB, as we walked from El Bosque to Benamahoma in the Sierra de Cádiz. We passed between scorching sunshine and welcome shade, descended and ascended shiny steps, trod on rocks, crossed small one way bridges past waterfalls and watched crystal clear lagoons half lit by the sun where picnicing Spainyards lay.

It took just over an hour to reach Benamahoma and there we had lunch at La Tasquita Del Majaceite. We decided to order the Trout as it's the local speciality. Ordered the one without Jamon stuffed in it but it came with Jamon on top anyway. No surprises there we thought as I swirled my Sherry. Met Erin briefly, a friend who has a beautiful house there and I kept swiveling around on my chair to admire the mountain backdrop behind me.

Completed the return leg of our delightful little walk, a bit slower, thrashing out random Spanish phrases to the sound of that gurgling river and the green surrounds that hung around us. "If only you could make a book of all these wonderful country smells" Said AB. I agreed.

Drove home on good roads, wrapped in the early evening heat of a very hot and inspiring day.

A Bout of Trout

2011-09-25T20:03:00.002+02:00

Cádiz: Pearlman & Jones

2011-09-17T23:30:00.072+02:00

Into the heat and heart of Cádiz we bussed for late afternoon tonics on the terrace with grand amigos. We delighted in performing girls that danced between scented flowers and encouragingly simple and sumptuous food; Cheesy Morcilla towers with eruptions of caramelised onion followed by a cucumber assault that moistened and mingled well with the luscious fresh Gallo.

‘Hooray’ shouted PearlO as the fun continued: Manhattans for the men, Cosmos for the ladies and iced carrot cakelets appeared for all. Smoke drifted from cigarettes as heads turned to silhouettes and Oliver, deep and resonating, talked politics and plans.

Too soon, we were galloping away to catch the last bus home with the teenagers of San Fernando and their electric shock sounding voices that rebounded off windows while we sat quietly, pondering the passing darkness, feeling warmly and merrily denatured.

La Isla: First Day (Part 2)

2011-09-15T23:25:00.004+02:00

Summer ending but term just beginning as we wander down for a beer in Plaza Del Rey just after 9 p.m. It’s all theatre as sharp murmurings fill dark, balmy skies, kids battle about on varying wheels, an old man empties his suitcase resentfully and half a plate of glistening pigs cheek arrives under my widening eyes.

La Isla: First Day (Part 1)

2011-09-15T14:27:00.008+02:00

Lunch at La Proa.

Eating outside but under cover, the restaurant filled. Sounds of traffic passing were occasionally drowned out by local voices warming the air behind us. Deeply distracted we sat with the coming hours of back to school, ordered a hot potato to share and two plates of Swordfish that lay thick and meaty across large oval plates.

Conversation was a little dry, like the fish, as minds undulated expectations of the coming year and I had no alcohol in my beer and we prodded and swiped with little forks. AB eyed up other plates of food on other tables jealously, toad skin melons, salads and a nectarine on a plate while we counted down to this years fate.

Final Sunset

2011-09-13T19:47:00.001+02:00

For Jennifer

Swimming on the water

2011-09-11T20:12:00.001+02:00

Cádiz: Chringuito Malibu

2011-09-04T20:08:00.003+02:00

Long golden chunks of Chocos
Lemon squeezed all over the top
Golden sands, sapphire seas
Please bury my face in the lot.

La Isla: A taste of Portugal

2011-09-02T16:00:00.019+02:00

Enjoy Manzanilla Martinis in T and Dave's kitchen prior to a small medley of Portuguese items for consumption from their recent summer trip. Tangy, orange cheese and a spiky red wine lead into an expression of Spanish equivalents, home made breads and of course a bit of ham as we discover with a card game whether we'd be better off on Venus or Mars. AB’s Portuguese Custard tarts and a dark, heavy cocktail are a sweet finish.

England: Southwold

2011-08-18T14:09:00.000+02:00

Almost summer, but never quite
The air infused with frying fish
Though wandering costly and coastal delight
Lord Nelson’s on my mind

Pig in Whiskey

2011-07-08T21:39:00.001+02:00

La Sierra; Day 5

2011-07-03T10:03:00.001+02:00

Leave the campsite and chug through Cortes past the seductive statue, old men sat on walls and South and East towards the Alcornocales Park. Enjoy massive toast with tomato and ham at a meson rural on the junction for Ubrique and then slalom on down to not so great Alcala.

Decide that’s enough for this trip and head back to La Isla. Celebrate it with a bus ride to Cádiz late in the afternoon and take pleasure in a timeless wander down the Paseo; Jarras of beer in the lowering sun and a charming curry at Mugals. Smell my Sag.

La Sierra; Day 4

2011-07-02T09:59:00.000+02:00

Late morning we trundle by train through lovely landscape for lunch in picturesque Ronda. Speed walk straight to the restaurant where we had eaten before with its fantastic views of the sierra and the gorge. It’s breadcrumbs Ronda style that’s a winner for me while Anna delights in roast Chicken.

Afterwards, with sweaty bums, we amble Hemingway and Welles’ streets and rest in the shade of the Alameda to the sound of trickling fountains. Take a free glass of Cava before picking up some local produce from a rather fat impatient shop owner. Head back to the station and Jimera.

We take a compulsory and enjoyable beer at Bar Allioli after the train where it’s farewell to Paul and his wife and their ‘Guapas’ crisps. Walk the 1km road to the campsite to consume our local Payoyo cheese and a glass of Ronda red as dusk fell slow and sleepily.

La Sierra; Day 3

2011-07-01T09:54:00.001+02:00

Take a tour of ‘Cueva de la Pileta’ at 11 to see some magical and impressive caves. There are 20,000-year-old paintings of horses, fish and fertility and we are lead by kerosene lamps and a jovial guide from the Bullon family who originally discovered the place and do tours.

We see incredible rock formations that resemble people and melting food and our guided up and down slippery steps through giant caves up to 30 meters high. There are remnants of fires, stalagmites, stalactites and the odd panicking bat. It’s an extraordinary experience as we try to imagine its past.

Return to our world and head to the station of Jimera for a widdle and a look at train times on the Algeciras to Bobadilla line. Enjoy a beer at nearby Bar Allioli where British owner Paul and his animated Danish wife are an unexpected spectacle of the small community.

Another fish lunch and rest by the pool precede an hour on the river on the canoe, which for me is an uncomfortable parting of 5 euros. Frankfurters and baked beans for dinner and an intense game of scrabble as a nearby family lament their troubled, child: Adri, Adrian, Adrian!

Andalucia

2011-06-30T21:41:00.000+02:00

La Sierra; Day 2

2011-06-30T09:47:00.013+02:00

Day Two

Travelled over heavenly hills to Grazalema to another full campsite. Down in the village we discover it’s the weekend of the bull on a rope and over 5000 people will converge on the village. The Tourist office advises on the location of peace and quiet down south, which sounds preferable.

Take high-spirited lunch of Fish and boiled eggs dipped in salt and head for Jimera de Libar where camping awaited us. As we followed a large, slow truck up and down the hills our exhaust began playing up and on arrival at the campsite we sounded more like a tractor.

The campsite is beautiful, with green grass leading down to a river and back dropped by mountains and we just so happen to arrive when the fabulous swimming pool was empty of anyone. Bare feet on green grass, we sink into the swimming pool and deep into a lazy afternoon.

After a trip to the Mechanic in Cortes enjoy an evening of scrabble on our new table and eat a Chickpea stew. It was delicious and fulfilling with a glass of white as bright stars appeared in the sky above, candles flickered in the breeze and the odd dog barked.

La Sierra; Day 1

2011-06-29T09:45:00.004+02:00

Into the green and fresh welcome of the sierra but there was no fresh welcome from campsites as they were filled with Spanish school kids on summer camps.
We circled the hills down to leather smelling and many people milling Ubrique and back again in an indecisive and disappointed manner.

Finished up on a quiet street in El Bosque, a stone’s throw from ‘La Casa Del Duende’ where we had welcome drinks, a volcano of Spinach, a raspberry courgette and a Mexican wrap. AB finished with a whopping Baileys before bedtime in the van and dreams of Fairies and Ogres.

La Sierra

2011-06-28T13:15:00.000+02:00

Jerez; La Feria

2011-05-16T09:28:00.002+02:00

Video made of photos

La Feria

2011-05-14T21:36:00.000+02:00

La Isla: Bar La Proa

2011-05-01T19:47:00.014+02:00

Both sat by painted Spanish tiles; some Indigo, some Olive, some Cream, we knocked back Rum and Cokes as spirits and outlooks lifted and changed while we observed the young procession of Shrimps shifting by outside; A colour of noise. Older locals entered and left with small/large tubs of snails in hands/under arms while with darkness the clouds gathered to rain and wash away holiday smiles. We cared not, as our smiles were now fixed like those coloured Spanish tiles so stuck on the wall.

Orange Cake by Jones

2011-04-23T17:42:00.000+02:00

Cádiz: With Victoria & Margarita

2011-04-22T20:55:00.002+02:00

Under straw umbrellas they settled with hot, deep-fried fish in damp, grey paper cones and cold fizzy tins of lager that they’d screwed into the sand. Margarita was in shock when told she'd just eaten Squid as Victoria giggled lightly but forlornly for she was half aware of the horizon darkening again and sending in more sheets of rain to cancel more Easter processions. It was not to hinder nor dampen their spirits though as into the heart of Cádiz they would ride once again with boldness and optimism that blustery and absorbing holiday.

Artichoke and Ham

2011-04-14T21:43:00.000+02:00

Conil De La Frontera

2011-04-09T09:55:00.000+02:00

No ESmoking

2011-02-19T21:26:00.000+01:00

The BIG Hair Debate

2011-02-01T20:42:00.001+01:00

From The Window

2011-02-01T01:30:00.006+01:00

Elevated Style

2011-01-26T22:37:00.000+01:00

Sunset with Noyes

2011-01-15T11:04:00.001+01:00

The Trip

2011-01-04T11:05:00.003+01:00

La Isla; Punta del Boquerón

2010-12-28T01:23:00.009+01:00

Third time lucky the van starts and we drive to Playa del Castillo for a walk amongst the dunes and looming clouds to Anchovy point. The winter landscape is almost apocalyptic but barrenly beautiful as we pass crumbling former strongholds, wartime remnants and the aftermath of a very high winter tide.

See Sancti Petri across the river and the castle before doubling back on ourselves and bumping into friends from Jerez down the beach. Following that we find shelter from the growing wind and nibble on segments of chocolate and swig sweet Sherry not too far from a dead Dolphin.

Home for Roast Hog and roaring electric heater.

Gammon

2010-12-27T21:28:00.003+01:00

La Isla; Back on the beach

2010-12-27T15:53:00.002+01:00

Reggae Reggae Christmas

2010-12-25T11:07:00.004+01:00

Its Christmas Time

2010-12-25T10:38:00.002+01:00

Christmas morning, weather dull and Grey but cos we got no place to go in bed we lay, lovers under blankets by lamplight, silky presents on laps with glasses of sparkling stars. When gifts then unwrapped and placed in heaps on bedside tables we breakfast; thick ham on toast soaked with Worcester sauce, smeared with English mustard as the smell of sweet roasting bird began to waft and fill the house. Our minds begin filling with gentle greed and melting anticipation towards the lunchtime feast: Turkey, Crispy Roast potatoes, brandy butter, pigs in blankets, Cranberry sauce, Sprouts, A girl from Finland, a boy from Leeds, a Cocktail maker, everything done to a T. The radio plays Christmas songs as we get up and start preparing, we become filled with a sense of years gone by as quietly in the lounge, sharp pine needles quietly drop to the tiles from the twinkling tree. The day is filled with an electric glow, a reggae flow, a thousand photos until the egg timer ran out and we hit the wall. Cold Christmas dinner the next day.

Christmas Eve

2010-12-24T16:00:00.002+01:00

A last supermarket trip
before we let rip.

Whoever wins, you lose.

2010-12-08T00:21:00.000+01:00

Come on

2010-11-01T21:48:00.000+01:00

Medina Sidonia; Aerosidonia

2010-11-01T20:42:00.003+01:00

Fishing

2010-10-21T00:23:00.000+02:00

Sevilla; A Bloody Mess

2010-10-02T10:49:00.001+02:00

Bull

2010-09-25T21:46:00.000+02:00

Sevilla; Plaza De Torros

2010-09-25T15:03:00.058+02:00

Drove to Seville before lunch, Primo at the wheel, Glun fiddling with the GPS and external monologue drifting occasionally from myself in the back. Arrived in good time, parked up in a stifling underground car park and picked up tickets on way to centre where we drank glasses of diluted red wine.

Took a modest but costly lunch at Restaurant Modesto where before average Paella we delighted in Clams, Galician style octopus and Broad beans and Jamon. Two bottles of fruity wine went down as Primo told us a story about an ironmonger who once sold fish.

Into the bullring we wandered and squeezed into our seats holding 9-euro drinks from the miniature bar. The sun burnt our faces as we sat down while pink capes quickly confused the entering and inquisitive bull. Hiding men ran and leapt like dancers and thrust Banderillas into its back to weaken it. A bit one sided from the off.

Armoured horses with riders were attacked and sent hobbling off while trumpets signalled the changing stages from the stands. Onto the Matador who now took charge, going through the motions as waves of Olé ascended bravely skywards. Twisting and turning he slowly worked the bull to death in the early evening.

The smells of sand, blood and a past nostalgia drifted in the air as Glun observed closely through binoculars. An unimpressed man below us extended his disappointment at the quality of the performance while dusk fell over the fights. Some of the killings were messy and slow as swords flew in like a crazy game of Kerplunk.

As we had expected it was Men 6 Bulls 0 as the last blood covered toro collapsed. Jingling horses and excited chefs quickly pulled its corpse callously away and the crowd gently applauded before men in blue boiler suits swiftly arrived sweeping up any evidence of ill behaviour.

No trophies won today, nor hearts as off we went into the night for drinks and tapas in the town. We sped home in the darkness past midnight back to the unique smell of San Fernando and the tickling lights of Cádiz on the horizon.

Paella

2010-09-24T21:38:00.000+02:00

Cádiz; Dancing Girl

2010-08-25T13:25:00.002+02:00

Rosé with Rory; Day 6

2010-07-19T12:31:00.002+02:00

Across to the coast of light for breakfast and swim in Bologna and then another swim in Anna’s favourite seawater in Zahara. Calamari for a late lunch sends us back home overtired to Jerez, city of sherry and distinction, which ends a trip of great distinction.

Amen to that lads.

Rosé With Rory; Day 5

2010-07-18T14:43:00.000+02:00

Late afternoon drive down to and across the Sunshine Coast. AB dreams of cider and curry. 5 hours later reach San Roque at sunset to campsite filled with scallywags from Gibraltar who watch us play pool. Big bowls of pasta and too much Rosé with Rory for me that night.

Rosé With Rory; Day 4

2010-07-17T09:33:00.001+02:00

It’s a ‘pack and go’ scenario in the morning for expensive jamon on toast high up in the hills in Pampaneira. A steep green walk follows to Capaleria via Burbion, stepping on figs, filling up water bottles and taking shade under mulberry bushes with views back down the peaceful valley.

With my shins stung by stinging nettles arrive hot and hungry for lunch in Pampaneira. Patatas a la pobre, green beans, jamon with a fried egg and a plate of meat and tomatoes are devoured. It’s served with elegant glasses of local Rosé, which leaves our heads smiling sweetly skywards.

Camp up the road at Pitres early evening. Have a swim in the pool then very tired head into the village for a night of beer and sweet wine, each one accompanied by greatly anticipated FREE tapas. A quiet, stray dog escorts us home at midnight in the Alpujarran darkness.

Rosé With Rory; Day 3

2010-07-16T09:28:00.001+02:00

Annoying flies, wet, heavy hair, random itching and oppressive heat our extinguished by a welcome breeze when we get going in the van. Head east up the Cape to Playa Del Arco, the differing light and colour of the sea and surrounds delight me; like being in a 1970’s photograph.

Take a stand up lunch by the van at Isleta Del Moro before driving for two hours along the hot and snaking coastal road past reflective white greenhouses and inviting coves. Turn North up to greener Orgiva where we camp up at Strongbow o’clock in the foothills of the Alpujarras.

Rosé With Rory; Day 2

2010-07-15T09:22:00.000+02:00

Local breakfast with large toast in a small, smoky bar in Jerez before driving through the Almeria desert, the driest part of Europe. Plunge down into the capes and cliffs of Cabo De Gata for tuna and mayo sandwiches as nearby, not very pink Flamingos are observed fishing for shrimp.

Find a big, hot campsite, have a swim, play cards and drink beer before walking and singing 1km for sunset and hot dogs on a beach book ended by high cliffs. We are overcome with exhaustion when we arrive back at the van at midnight. It’s hot. It’s fucking hot.

Rosé With Rory; Day 1

2010-07-14T09:37:00.000+02:00

Drive the familiar road east from Jerez to Granada and then on to melt in the late afternoon sunshine in Guadix and find a campsite. Locate a quiet one at Jerez Del Marques up a slow, dusty track where we see the last traces of snow melting on the sierra.

Vegetables and soy sauce for dinner and then card games by candlelight as only us and the trees, and wafts of mulberries and cigar smoke in the breeze bring the day to a comfortable close. 14 euros for a bottle of red wine the only stain on a grape evening.

Rosé with Rory

2010-07-14T07:44:00.005+02:00

Summer In Jerez

2010-07-13T15:34:00.005+02:00

World Cup

2010-06-25T00:25:00.000+02:00

Cádiz: Tourist at La Viña

2010-05-04T15:13:00.002+02:00

Into virgin territory she trod, where flowerpots watched her feast on fish: pickled dog, John Dory, tuna with chips. No room for Cuttlefishes; dismay, but plates of instant pleasure landed; delivered by a twitching moustache in the hushed heart of Cádiz as spliff smoking locals lurked harmlessly around corners. Canasta!

Jerez; Semana Santa 'El Silencio'

2010-04-01T12:40:00.000+02:00

In the darkness we stand, crammed against others surrounding the spectacular Cathedral. Conversations our soon hushed to silence like ghostly gusts of wind, as on the strike of 1:30 a.m. the cathedral doors creek open and penitents dressed in black filter out holding candles, their hats pointing to the sky.

They walk silently, gently parting the respectful crowd and creep towards us as they step the route that they will follow for the coming hours. There is stillness as Christ is lifted out on his cross and addressed by a man on a balcony who sings with emotional, dramatic charge.

Eyes and ears are alert and expectant. The cold air has no chance here as we huddle together like penguins. Bright camera flashes stamp momentary shadows and silhouettes of the cross and procession on the cathedral and adjacent walls. People are watching from windows and roofs and their television sets.

Eighty shuffling, scuffling feet carry Jesus past and as we gaze up at him glowing, golden decorations wobble close by our noses. He passes under the imposing Cathedral tower backed by a starry sky. The Virgin follows next, candlelit, quivering and then receives her own imploring verse before moving on.

More penitents pursue her, some bare footed, and some carry the cross. The moonrises, a drop of sweat runs down my back. As the procession leaves the silence is finally broken as crowds disperse, follow. The procession will return to San Miguel at dawn, to nothing but the sound of birdsong.

Jerez; Holy Week

2010-03-31T13:06:00.000+02:00

We rest our bums on Burgundy seats on Calle Porvera to watch Processions sneak by. Little boys dressed in shorts and tights collect balls of wax from the penitents dripping candles while their colour-coordinated mothers and pastel and beige dressed fathers with shining black hair look on adoringly and richly.

Later, Plaza Plateros, after a quick Mexican we stand by Tutinakis bar window closely holding a cup of wine as streams of people flow by. I’ve never seen Jerez town so busy. The evening is charged as waitress' scream orders to the kitchen and humour sits in the air like angels.

Cádiz; Isla Azul

2010-03-27T13:05:00.000+01:00

The Blue Island Bar with sea views. Sun down and spring chills sit up with good measures of rum. Loud voices flood out from inside onto the darkening terrace as Madrid and Barcelona extend their lead at the top of the league table while we drink each other under ours.

Benamahoma; Day Three

2010-03-21T13:00:00.001+01:00

Clouds breakaway late afternoon as AB roasts Chicken in a pot with 40 cloves of Garlic. We feast on the lower terrace as little lambs skip and dance down below in the valley. The Donkey, tied to the tree looks on vacantly. The allotment owners converse with each other in deep voices over great distances.

Our faces redden in the scorching sun as stomachs line with saucy Chicken, soft heavy potatoes and perfect peas. The lowering sun hits the hilltop, as later, in the main plaza, shouting Spaniards are the backdrop to our conversation of ruined houses and fighting Bulls.

Benamahoma; Day Two

2010-03-20T01:05:00.001+01:00

“Cock-A-Doodle-Do” sang the Cockerel at 6 a.m.
“Bit early isn’t it?” replied the Goose.
The barking Dogs agreed.
“Eee Aww” said the Donkey tied to the tree. It’s ears innocently twitching.

Morning slumber and book reading to twittering birds and rural silence so quiet you could hear the flight of a fly. Back on the balcony for breakfast. Birthday girl AB enjoys Salmon and Poached eggs on toast with a glass of chilled stars while smells of burning wood and country cooking drift and plump loud men busy themselves on their allotments below. A Horse hoovers the grass in the distance in-between olive trees.

It’s warm but overcast as the breeze beckons the occasional allergy.

Benamahoma; Day One

2010-03-19T01:02:00.000+01:00

From ‘La Isla’ (San Fernando) we escape into the hills of Cádiz province, Friday night. Arrive at the white village of Benamahoma in the dark and are soon on our way out of our lodgings to eat; our scuffing feet the loudest sounds down the cobbled street until we enter a lively bar for a great plate of Wild Boar on chips and a couple of Cañas.

It’s a simple life in the country, meat, meat or meat as by the bar a Dutchman lurks with intent and the local locals are gnarled and bold and bristly.

Later on, at the best rented lodgings I know, up on the balcony we stare out at the pitch-black valley listening to conversing wildlife; croaking toads, tweeting birds and other curious whistles and warblings.

Cádiz; 11 a.m. Bar Mar Tres

2010-03-08T02:02:00.003+01:00

Rhita and I sit outside for coffee as the noise of wheezing buses and frantic traffic floats under bright Cádiz light. A queue of fat men and made up ladies pass by clutching lottery tickets and handbags that match their shoes as we eat buttery, garlicky asparagus tortilla bocadillos, amused.

Jerez; Flamenco Festival

2010-03-07T02:30:00.002+01:00

Tsunami of Japanese
floods to flamenco
raindrop on tapas

AlHambra, GraNAda

2010-03-04T10:36:00.001+01:00

Granada; Day Three

2010-03-01T00:24:00.003+01:00

Truly appreciating Granada, a deeper impression is pressed on our sun soaked minds as with our final morning we stride up Barrio Sacramento and marvel its white faceted maze of caves and buildings.

We arrive at Butchers Square for a sin alcohol and a free plate of chips covered in wobbling mayonnaise that hunts us down from the bar. You can't escape some free tapas it seems. The mayo glistens in the sunlight. Orange trees and blue sky reflect in my sunglasses. These scenes becoming all too familiar as I fall in love with another Spanish town.

Granada; Day Two

2010-02-28T11:02:00.004+01:00

A far-flung waitress flings our breakfast on the table late morning in Plaza Nueva, before we head up into the Barrio Albaycín past Moroccan sellers and snug teashops. We climb further into a sudden civil war like silence swiftly interrupted by bright, animated plazas and steaming hot pots of Couscous.

From Plaza Larga we meander to the San Nicolas viewpoint where guitar playing gypsies and hippies play flamenco and sell bright artefacts as a line of tourist legs and cameras wiggle on the wall appreciating the broad view of the city, the prominent Alhambra and the snow-capped mountains that rise further beyond.

Slaves to the Alhambra, reigning over the city, we thus become as we climb for our 4 p.m. appointment at the Palace. While arriving, blue sky delivers and beautifies the walls as bright sunlight stretches in, illustrating attentions to details; lace fabric like facades, textured patterns and beige splendour.

Granada; Day One

2010-02-27T01:28:00.006+01:00

The snow-capped Sierra Nevada holds high on the horizon as we approach Granada sprawling flat out beneath it. Greeted by surprisingly warm air, the city and ourselves are introduced as strong gusts send plastic chairs skidding across Plaza Nueva. The Perfect storm is building somewhere in the west, apparently.

Not initially amazed but gently impressed the evening arrives. We trail for free tapas from Calle Elvira, round the claustrophobic cathedral and finish in loud and smokey Barrio Navas for dazzling fish bits. A stark contrast follows in the quiet and cosy, sweaty Tetaría where we burn Cherry before bedtime.

Cádiz: CarnavaL

2010-02-20T02:07:00.002+01:00

Coloured confetti covers squares and streets as madness twists
and ends don’t meet.

A rum is drunk as eyes see stars and faces amused,
confused, laugh.

They stream through the old towns fairytale glow,
where dancing into the night I go,
thoughts all a song and an idiotic scatter.

Mindless chatter.

Mad as a hatter.

el CARRUSEL de COROS

2010-02-16T21:15:00.001+01:00

Cádiz CarnavaL

Carnival Rubbish

2010-02-14T00:27:00.001+01:00

Cádiz; Peña Juan Villar

2010-02-13T00:55:00.001+01:00

Fine fish wafting between loud screams of Flamenco. Colourfully she sits and sings and then powerfully while I watch, olive oil drips delightfully from my shiny, salty, fried green pepper. Behind her, two young, wide-eyed and skinny square shouldered Gaditanos clap palmas. The room flooding with duende. Duende Del Sur.

The Magic Kings, Jerez

2010-01-08T01:01:00.001+01:00

Jerez; Los Reyes Magos

2010-01-05T21:45:00.001+01:00

The Magic Kings parade the thronging, sticky streets bearing gifts for all. The expectant air is youthful and excited, glowing and overflowing with colour, trumpets, thumping drums, painted costumes and self-assured yelling as perfume smelling citizens stretch out loving arms towards showers of sweets. The big Belen watches on, adoringly.

Benamahoma

2009-12-13T00:24:00.001+01:00

Benamahoma
Where burning wood smells wander
The December sky

With Sheep Bells and Baas
Tall trees glisten with the breeze
A Yellow leaf falls

The warm shifting sun
Shadows under bare branches
Kick up golden leaves

Meandering so
The river to the forest
Where circling trout swim

An early sunset
Sends us to sudden shivers
Thoughts go up in flames

With glasses of stars
Squeezing Lemons on Salmons
The hot chimney smokes

Surrounding darkness
Car headlights cut the hillside
While Broccoli boils

Christmas streets twinkling
Kaleidoscopes of colours
Her smiles light me up

Sunrise paints the hills
A dog is barking mad at
A cockerel calling

New Town Cádiz

2009-12-12T00:43:00.001+01:00

One Sunday

2009-12-08T19:47:00.001+01:00