Hay fever

So, I managed to pop along to the Hay Festival a couple of weekends ago.

Yes, that's right: the Hay Festival at the Alhambra, Granada. (Clearly the organisers of the original at Hay-on-Wye, Wales, have gotten fed up of the rain, since they've now branched out not only to Spain - Granada and Santiago de Compostela - but even to Cartagena de Indias, Colombia).

I thoroughly enjoyed two very interesting talks by these two famous British historians (above).

Do you recognise them?

Mini rant

Why, oh why, when it's blue sky, bright sunshine, boiling hot outside, would you still have all the radiators on full blast inside the library?!?

Especially given that for anyone getting to Faculty has to either clamber up the side of a mountain to get here, or pack themselves onto a bendy bus along with the other sardines, and so arrives drenched in sweat to start with.

I'm sweltering...

It's dinner time

For those among you, and there are many, you believe that I can't cook, well... you'd be right.

But I am trying to prove you wrong.

Yesterday I cooked for myself a fillet steak. Today I made something out of nothing from the chicken, peas, mushrooms and tomato pureé, as you can see in the photo above.

Everything was coming along swimmingly and every individual element of the meal tasted fine (even better, thanks to the herbs I'd throw in - how professional is that?!).

Unfortunately, I then ran out of ideas. I just tossed everything together and it came out looking a bit of a mess.

It tasted fine, but the tomato was somewhat overpowering. Still, live and learn.

Even more unfortunately, I had left a bit of a mess across the kitchen (various pots, pans, plates and cultery had been sacrificed to the cause) and I was just finishing my meal when, unannounced and a day earlier than I had been expecting, Yann's mum and dad turn up.

Cue a flustered 'bonjour' and 'ça va?' and 'je suis desolée' and 'je ne parle pas français', then followed by some frantic kitchen clearing up while the tour went first to the balcony...

Anyway, all is well. They seemed to like the house. His Dad even commented on my 'petite chambre'. I don't know what else he thinks about it - those were the only words I understood. I just replied 'Sí, ouais, muy petite'.

A bientôt!

Weary weather

The week after Easter was seriously hot.

To be honest, it's been seriously scorchio since the start of March and I've frequently lamented my lot, looking ahead (but not looking forward) to the heat come May/June.

I am in the south of Spain after all, but I expected Granada (a little bit up in the Sierra Nevada) to be slightly cooler. And I was wrong: locals warn of temperatures of over 40 degrees come the summer. 

Joy.

This past week, however, respite has come in the form of some proper British weather. We've had cloudy skies, showers and, especially today, gusty wind. Okay, so it's not the snow storms that some of you had last weekend, but it's enough to make me happy.

I gather that the weather is to change again this weekend. Out comes the suntan lotion again... *sigh*