What could we do about going to work and being allowed into public spaces generally when we hummed like dead dogs? The solution was quite clear; get out of the house for a fortnight while John smashed it up. How though? Just go and lie low somewhere for two weeks in June. No problem, have a holiday. The real issue then; how to go on two weeks holiday when all the spare moola we had, and a good deal we didn't have, was to be used to pay for the very reason we needed to get away? Enter Frank and Ana on white chargers.
‘But it's Euro 2008’ said Lynda, ‘and football is your life. Will you be OK going away’?
‘Worry not my beloved’ I reassured her. ‘Spain is in the tournament, Frank and Ana have a rather large Panasonic TV, and my favourite Italy shirt is very portable’.
We were beginning to get pretty good at this problem solving lark.
So early on a Sunday morning, cases stuffed with an assortment of goodies for everyone and a few bits of clothing for ourselves, we once again rolled into Barajas Airport still half asleep from getting up in the middle of the night. Frank, good on him, once again provided the transport facilities and he, Sofi, Andy and Carla were waiting for us as we stepped through arrivals with our pantechnicon-like baggage trolley.
Lots of hugs and kisses with the rest of the family blew away any sleepy cobwebs and very quickly we got down to the business of a cold beer on the terrace and catching up on the doings of the last few weeks. The briefest welcome was from Pablo, but not through any lack of affection, rather because he had been and needed to remain for at least another week, closeted with his school books and Mum as they crammed and crammed for his exams, which he was in the middle of. They were very important exams and it's no exaggeration to say that his academic future at his school depended on good results. This was then the tone for Pablo and Ana for the first five days of our stay; a hasty hello followed by a disappearing act into the dining room for hours of study. Thank goodness I don't have to do that anymore. I hated school and the work involved and just watching Pablo made me shudder.
The 'Plurial' - our transport for forseeable future trips to Spain
The drive to Valencia was a bit of a pain in the arse. The first day of the school holidays had predictably brought hoards of Spaniards onto the Autovia Del Este (A3), one of the main arterial roads out of Madrid and route to Valencia and points south - Alicante, Benidorm, Javea, etc. A normally three and half to four hour trip took us closer to seven. Apart from being able to watch a few minutes of one of the quarter finals on a TV screen, the jam-packed “travellers’ rest” - type motorway stop wasn't particularly restful and certainly not gourmet! Never mind, it almost filled a gap.
We reached Valencia gone eleven that night feeling hot and very tired. The hospitality of Ana's sister Bea and her best friend (also called Bea) was very welcome. The two Beas have back-to-back apartments on one of Valencia's beaches, which they'd kindly offered to us for our stay. They've given us use of the apartments on a previous stay while they de-camped to a small village in the hills above Valencia where Bea also has a lovely house, also their destination for this visit. That night then we flopped and slept like logs.
All of Ana's family are the most hospitable and generous people you could hope to meet. Nothing is too much trouble for them and they are great company too. Lynda and I were really glad then that we could be part of a gathering of them all, and their thirteen kids for this weekend's festivities. Before that though we had a Saturday on the beach to enjoy, and enjoy it we did. The sun shone, the water was warm, the playing about was great fun and the Fideua (a typical dish from Valencia where noodles are used instead of rice in a paella-like dish usually made with seafood and fish) at a beachside restaurant (Ristorante Llevant at Alboraya Beach) was spot-on. A pretty perfect day.
A welcome ice-cold aperitif in anticipation of the Fideua
The next day, Sunday, was the party and the venue was Ana's brother Pepe's house, normally twenty minutes drive from Valencia, but on this occasion closer to an hour and half, partly due to its fairly hard to find location and partly because of our navigator, Ana's youngest sibling Maloles. She is an extremely likeable and funny girl that has the advantage of speaking good English and not taking things too seriously - especially directions!!
When we arrived the music was already playing, the pool was full of kids and the smells of delicious food were wafting from the kitchen. Pepe has a lovely family and an equally lovely home. He, his wife Mara and their children Daniel and Julia are warm, welcoming and fun, which was pretty much the tone with everyone for the whole day. Pepe and Mara had very kindly organised two enormous Paellas for us all, which everyone set too appreciatively, the adults around a large table under Pepe’s new veranda and the kids scattered around various tables in the garden. Try as we might there was so much wonderful food that we couldn’t finish all of it, and after a rousing thirty-voice rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’, munching birthday cakes and present opening, we all ended up in Pepe’s pool. The events were rounded off with a charming violin recital by Daniel and then lots of pictures of Grandma (‘Abu’ is the affectionate Spanish expression) and her many grandkids. What a really lovely day.
Fun times at Pepe's house
A very lucky family - and that's not all the grandkids !
That night though was reserved for more serious matters. Football. Frank had negotiated for him, me and Pablo to watch the game at Maria (Ana’s sister) and her husband Coco’s apartment, who as well as being extremely nice people with two sweet young boys, have the added attraction of a 43inch Plasma TV. Their apartment is in an excellent location near to the Port, a modern shopping centre and overlooking the new Valencia Formula One circuit, currently still being built. We were well fed and watered and enjoyed the game together. A really great end to a great day. Before we left though, Coco kindly invited us to come back the next night for the big match as far as we were concerned; Spain –v- Italy in the Quarter Final.
The Port and new Formula One Circuit as glimpsed from Maria & Coco's balcony
Later that evening, decked out in Italy shirts and loaded with beer and snacks we arrived for a tense but enjoyable match, joined by Max (more about him later), another of Ana’s brothers, Pablo and a sister, Angeles. The game eventually went to extra time and then a penalty shoot out. Trying to be quiet so as not to wake up two very young sleeping children during a penalty shoot out between your respective teams in the quarter final of a European Championships is, to quote today’s management-speak, a challenge. We failed, as too did Italy who missed two of their five penalties, thus ending their challenge and the hopes of millions like us. For two years anyway – see you in South Africa in 2010. The girls meanwhile had spent the evening wandering around the refurbished seafront, stopping at the evening craft market and diving into a restaurant in time to catch the penalties!
The next day was yet again gloriously sunny, perfect for wandering just a few minutes away from the apartments to Port Saplaya, a complex of Italianate painted apartments with balustraded balconies; bars and restaurants. It was built some thirty years ago but cleverly constructed to look much older and all gathered around a calm and beautiful port. We parked the car and immediately bumped into Max, who when not being architect indulges his real passion by teaching sailing and board surfing at the Port’s school. He kindly offered us a trip in a sailing boat which we arranged to come back and take him up on at the end of his teaching day later on.
Frank, Pablo and I re-appeared at the port at five, Lynda and Ana having stayed behind at the apartment to keep an eye on the three remaining kids plus Pepe’s two. Having never sailed I was really excited at the prospect of going out in a boat, although to be fair it had always looked like really hard work to me. The prospect of an engine has always been more appealing. It was however a really lovely experience with Max patiently talking us through everything and making sure we all had a turn on the tiller and the various controlling ropes. He never did tell us where the swords were kept though. An hour later we sailed back into the harbour puffed up with pride at our nautical success rather like latter day Drakes, Chichesters, or even Jack Sparrow. Wet but really delighted with the experience we packed away the sails, secured the boat and had a celebratory beer.
Packing up afterwards
That night was the feast of San Juan, when local tradition is for everyone to hit the beaches in the late evening to picnic around bonfires. These are no ordinary picnics though. We saw tables of people tucking into Paellas they’d cooked on the beach, barbecued sausages and other meats, breads, cheeses and all manner of wonderful goodies. The smells were fantastic and so were our rolls, which we greedily tucked into as we sat around our own improvised bonfire. As the evening grew darker so the bonfires became more beautiful and soon we were holding hands, singing songs and laughing as we ran around the fire. Things got a bit more hairy when the kids started jumping over the fire although I had a go too and luckily none of us were in the slightest bit singed. The kids kept disappearing and returning loaded up with bits of wood, which we thought it better not to ask where they were finding it. Eventually way past midnight fatigue, the smell of smoke and the vast quantities of sand in our underwear got the better of us and we dragged ‘home’ for our last night’s sleep in Valencia.
Toasting the tootises around midnight
The next morning we re-packed the cars and drove back to Madrid. This time the traffic was light and we made it back in time for lunch.
Where the first week had been very much dominated by Pablo and Ana’s marathon exam prep, the second was very much taken up with holiday plans. Frank and Ana had decided to book a last-minute break the start of which would coincide with our last day in Madrid. Various destinations were being considered but eventually a Danube cruise won the day, which was duly booked. It was all a bit confusing but luckily Ana seemed to know what was going on so she was left to it. The packing frenzy then began in earnest.
Lynda and I occupied ourselves very much in the same way as the previous week, much to the delight of Sofi in particular whose new bedroom was finished very much to her satisfaction. This week’s highlight was the children’s exam results. A huge whoop of delight from Pablo’s bedroom on the Wednesday morning confirmed that he’d done well; his grades being more than enough to meet his school’s requirements and his, Ana and Frank’s expectations. To celebrate, Lynda and I invited the family to a bit of a treat that evening – a kebab. Later on then we met Ana from the train and fell into the favourite kebabbery and gorged ourselves senseless on bits of lamb and chicken washed down with carafes of wine and shandy.
Kebab Queens !
The next day was once more all about football. That night’s huge match was Spain –v- Russia in the second semi final. A place in the final against Germany on Sunday was at stake and we were not going to miss this game. The tension had been rising as much as the temperature in Madrid and it was on a baking hot evening that we settled down to watch the clash. I don’t know what we were nervous about as Spain trounced the Russians three-nil. It was a walk-over, the Spaniards driving into the final in the same excellent footballing manner that they’d got through the competition so far.
Friday morning was packing day – a ten minute job for us but a deal more difficult for Frank, Ana and the kids who were packing for Valencia, Barcelona, Amsterdam, Vienna and many other European cities, the itinerary for which is far too convoluted to mention here. It was so hot again; even standing still out of the shade was hard going. Ana got home nice and early from work and by two o’clock Lynda and I were waving the family goodbye as they sped off on their epic journey in a car stuffed to bursting with bags, DVD players, personal stereos and people. A couple of hours later Lynda and I made the trip to Barajas airport using the excellent public transport network and having got there and checked in a fair bit earlier than we really needed to, settled down for the wait till take-off.
Despite having been delayed an hour making our arrival into Luton a very late-night one, the place was heaving with people. Luton Airport has for the last thirty years felt and looked like a building site that constantly struggles to cope with the volume of passengers travelling through it. It certainly can’t cope at the minute, and the twisty turning passage ways and stairs you’re forced to drag your cabin baggage along make it feel more like a nineteen forties airstrip than a modern twenty first century airport. The operators should be ashamed of themselves, as too should those charged with processing the passengers on arrival into the UK. Endless queues await those landing here, and to think we used to criticise US Immigration for making us hang around to be let in!!
We fell into our house at around one thirty in the morning and rushed in to admire the luxury of our new bathroom. We realised all hadn’t gone completely to plan when we saw John’s note on the stairs advising he hadn’t got on as well as he’d hoped. That was a fair assessment really. He’d done a huge amount of work, and what he’d done looked great but finished he certainly wasn’t. At least he’d left us in a state that literally if not financially, we had a pot to piss in. But he was back in bright and early the next morning to do some more and is there this week as I type getting the remaining few things sorted. We’d had visions of getting home and needing only to worry about what towels we’d use so we were understandably a little disappointed at it not being finished. That’s no reflection of John and his abilities though as even a DIY idiot like me can see that there’s a mountain of work to get through and perhaps he’d simply underestimated the scale of it. Never mind, it’s going to be lovely.
And the European Championship Final? Spain saw off the Germans one-nil. A great victory not only for a great young team, but for football generally. They were by far the best team in the contest, and one that other countries should not only look to emulate, but also to fear in the next World Cup.Thanks to Ana, Frank and family for their love, fun and hospitality; only a few weeks till we’re next together again and we can’t wait. And thanks also to Ana’s Valencia-based family for once more extending their warmth and generosity to us. We very much look forward to seeing you all again soon, either in Spain or in England.