Both Lynda and I love Christmas. There’s nothing even remotely ‘humbug’ about either of us and each year we look forward to the festive period for its wonderful sociability, it’s food and drink and of course, the time off. We’re fortunate in that careful use of holiday, flexi time and the odd public holiday means that we can eke out almost a fortnight’s break with the minimum impact on our holiday allocation. We’re also extremely fortunate to have a great circle of family and friends to celebrate Christmas – and to be fair just about anything else – with. Christmas Day here, Boxing Day somewhere else, planning menus and parties – either at home or as guests of others - are the norm and we love it.
Until around September time we hadn’t given any thought to this year’s plans, safe in the knowledge that whenever we got around to it there’d be no lack of people to be with and places to be with them at. That sounds complacent but honestly we’re not. We know how we’re blessed to be in that position. Then just a phone call from Ana one Saturday morning firmed up everything for us. She and Frank extended us a wonderfully generous invitation to spend Christmas with them and the kids in Madrid, the bonus being that they’d extended the same invitation to Mum. As soon as we cleared the time off with work on the following Monday we booked the flights with our habitual Madrid-bound transport Easyjet. It was decided, and we felt very smug that not only had our plans been taken care of, but we would also be spared the turgid ordeal of the appalling UK Christmas TV schedules.
As we began our descent into Madrid Barajas our Captain’s chirpy voice came over the PA system to announce the local time and that the temperature on the ground was minus five degrees. ‘Minus five’?! I said. ‘Blimey, stay up here until it warms up a bit’. I needn’t have worried though, it was a beautiful bright, sunny and crisp morning, brightened even considerably more by our entire luggage turning up promptly and then being met by Frank and Pablo. It was great to see them and as always they gave us the warmest of welcomes, matched only by that from Sofi, Carla and Andi when we got back to the house. Sadly Ana was at work and there’d be no hugs with her until later that evening.
We wasted no time in getting into the holiday mood, all piling into Frank’s car and heading to the nearby town of Majadahonda - try saying that when you’ve had one Sangria over the eight – for a stroll in the sunshine and a very welcome drink outside one of the high street’s many bars. It really was so good to be sitting in the sunshine, laughing and joking with the family, kids clambering all over us, and knowing that we had a week of this to look forward to.
Relaxing in Majadahonda
Back at the house and Frank revealed what a perfectly planned exercise our visit was to be. He and Ana had prepared menus and shopped for all lunches and dinners. Frank had plundered his cellar and unearthed an excellent selection of wines, including wonderful Cava and a superb range of Spain’s finest reds. The Armagnac was out and gently warming, the chimney room piled with festive goodies and of course firewood and a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, which had pride of place in anticipation of the presents to be piled underneath it on Christmas Eve. In short Frank, Ana and the kids had made sure that the house was text book Christmas – beautifully festooned, warm, welcoming and very comfortable – and that we would want for nothing during our stay and that’s exactly how it turned out to be. That evening Ana came home and completed our festive nine. Christmas could now properly begin.
Waiting for Santa
The kids were so excited by Christmas and the fact that Lynda, Nana and me were there to share it with the family. They had plans for lots of games, ‘Playstation’ Karaoke sessions and most eagerly anticipated, an event that’s become a ritual with them, ‘Question Chair’. This very silly but hilarious game basically involves me having them sit on my lap in turn, me asking them extremely daft questions, which when they get one ‘wrong’, I chuck them onto the floor. They love it, even Pablo and Sofi. They can’t wait for their turns, which they approach with a hilarious mixture of terror and irresistible delight. It takes a fair bit of physical effort, made even more demanding by playing it late at night after an immense meal. But it’s well worth it for the laughter of participants and spectators as the body count mounts up.
Christmas Eve saw Lynda, Nana and me alternating between messing about with the kids and giving Ana the occasional bit of help as she worked furiously on the evening’s spectacular dinner. The smells from the kitchen revealed that fish was definitely on the menu in some form, but quite how we weren’t sure. After having to do a bit of last minute work, Frank broke away from his computer and we all trotted off to the shops for some final bits and pieces for the next couple of days. When we got home it was time to freshen up and then lay the table for the feast. Frank pulled corks, we put out the crockery and Ana filed the table with wonderful stuff; Paprika-coated baked Monkfish, left to go cold and thinly sliced, huge langoustines, vol au vents filled with exotic combinations of cheeses, peppers and anchovies and the star attraction, a Bouillabaisse that shamed any I’ve eaten in France. Dinner was a long, lingering affair with no one daring to leave the table for fear of missing out on any of the goodies. Dessert was a vast platter of Spanish treats that included several types of Turron, Spanish Christmassy cakes, chocolates and even a few mince pies that had made the trip from the UK. The Armagnac put in a welcome appearance as we slouched over our seats in the glow of Franks roaring fire. Our waistbands straining, the table cleared and the kids safely in bed, the grown ups now had the job of wrapping and laying out an enormous number of presents for the kids – and some for the adults - to rip into the next morning.
Christmas Eve preparations and celebrations
Christmas Morning. All families have a Christmas morning routine. I suspect the common denominator for those with kids is the youngsters’ nervous excitement when they tear downstairs to see what Santa has brought. The chimney room is ideal for this Christmas tease because it can be closed off with double doors, which the kids – still in their pyjamas, as too were the rest of us - were now jumping about outside, virtually at bursting point as they waited for their Mum & Dad’s signal to charge in. Al the kids except Pablo that is as he and I had cooked up a small surprise. Just before the doors were flung open, a hearty ‘Ho, ho ho’ing’ was heard from the staircase where Pablo emerged dressed as the perfect Father Christmas. I’d sneaked the costume over from home and had a quiet word with Pablo. He supplied the enthusiasm and a rather strangely positioned pillow. The doors were flung open and in a scene reminiscent of the start of the Harrods’s sale or the Le Mans 24 hour Race, the crowd surged forward and the giggling and ripping began. It was brilliant to see their excitement mount as each fresh gift was revealed. Santa is still a hero in this household and he didn’t let anyone down this year. Once the kids collapsed in a heap of presents and spent wrapping, temporarily exhausted and stunned from unwrapping their festive haul, the adults set about their gifts, and we too were delighted at the thoughtfulness and generosity that went into ours.
Opening the presents is clearly the major highlight, but equally for me is Christmas lunch. In the UK the menu is set in stone whereas in Spain, in our experience at least, it’s literally a moveable feast so we weren’t sure what we were going to be treated to. In the event lunch was definitely Anglo-Spanish fusion, combining local ingredients – including a most excellent Turkey – with items that we’d brought with us, instantly recognisable from a British Christmas table. The result was a superb lunch of soup followed by Turkey and the trimmings, capped off with Christmas pudding excellently flamed to perfection by Frank. Crash helmets would have been usefully as the twixies did some extreme nut cracking, sending nuts and shells all over the room, and at some pretty fearsome velocity. Coffee and yes, that Armagnac made sure we were completely sated. After a marathon clearing up session the evening was spent playing with the kids and their presents before the young ones succumbed to the excitement and hit the sack. This was Pablo’s moment. He’s really got into ‘Carry On’ films recently and so for one of his Christmas presents Lynda and I bought him two DVDs, each containing four ‘Carry On’ films. He’d been bursting to watch one on but was waiting for all distractions to be removed before he put it on. That night then we sat and watched ‘Carry On Up the Khyber’. Like Marmite, you love these films or hate them. I fall into the former camp but although I knew that these films could still forty years on make me laugh like a drain, I hadn’t appreciated their soporific effect until I saw Frank well relaxed at one end of the sofa, with Lyndy and Mum following close behind. Despite the younger kids’ reluctance to go to bed for the rest of our time there, Pablo still managed to fit in ‘Carry On Screaming’ and ‘Carry On Cleo’. He must be the only 14-year-old boy in Spain who knows who Sid James, Barbara Windsor, Kenneth Williams, Bernard Breslaw and the rest are !!
How to flame a Christmas pudding
Boxing Day isn’t a Spanish thing at all so the next day Ana was back at work, Frank had his nose back in his laptop and the kids immersed themselves in their homework. Lynda, Mum and I decided to walk off some of the excesses of the previous few days. We wrapped up well and struck out for the town. We had a lovely walk in the winter sunshine, warm enough for our scarves and gloves to be quickly discarded. We stopped for a cold drink, once again outside one of the bars before heading for home and a very welcome lunch a couple of hours later.
The next few days were spent laughing, playing, taking nice strolls, looking at the shops, eating lovely food and drinking excellent wine. On the Sunday Ana suggested we drive into the city centre and visit an old convent, who's name escapes me, in a beautiful area near the Opera House and Royal Palace. It was a really lovely visit and it benefited the kids who needed to find out about the place for a school project. We joined the crowds that gently ambled around the Palace and its surroundings and soaked up the holiday atmosphere. It was a really enjoyable few hours together.
As suddenly as we arrived it was time to go home. Monday was spent doing a bit of shopping for nibbly bits to take home and then packing, then after dinner that night we had one final ‘Question Chair’ before falling into bed. Up early Tuesday morning and after reluctantly kissing and hugging goodbye the half-sleeping girls and the very awake Ana, once again Frank and Pablo made the run with us back to the airport.
Thanking you Frank and Ana has become something of a habit, and one we’re delighted to have formed. It’s always great when we’re together but this trip was very, very special. We loved being in your company and Mum’s and it was all the more lovely to have been able to do it at Christmas. How brilliant to have spent it with you. Thank you so much for your kindness, generosity and all the effort you all made to make us feel so welcome and so comfortable. Thank you too for all the laughs. Thank you kids for sharing your toys and games and for your beautifully touching cuddles, cards, notes and gifts. It was very hard to leave you, but it’s made easier knowing that we’ll be seeing each other again soon.
Oh yes, I nearly forgot. The lottery ticket we bought together was a winner. OK, eight Euros but the way the exchange rate is going that’ll soon be about three thousand quid!!!
Happy New Year everybody. Good health and good luck in 2009.
No comments:
Post a Comment