Summer 2019 Episode 7 - 30th July - San Isidro - Quesada

Still with me after all this time? I have to say that you’re a glutton for punishment, but never mind, I’m very glad to have you with me. I’ll begin today as I ended yesterday with a shout out. My middle daughter Zara was a little put out that I made a shout out for Tony and Mum yesterday and not her, so let’s rectify that. This episode is dedicated to Zara – I miss you and the whole family loads, but I’ll see you soon.  

Well, there were two major items on the agenda for today, then. The second was a fish and chip lunch out in Quesada. The first, though was the visit of Senor Gas. Senor Gas is not, as you might have deduced, a Spanish gentleman with an unfortunate flatulence problem. (Although I do think I met that one in Madrid last year). No, Senor Gas is the guy who delivers the new calor gas canister and takes away the empties. I’ll come back to him afterwards. It got to about 9 o’clock, and he hadn’t been, so I took John down to the Rekreo Bar for a coffee and a sin alcohol. John can’t walk for any real distance, and so he uses a wheelchair which seems to be assisted by an electric motor – rather like those electrically assisted bicycles you might have seen in the last year or two. That’s great, but the only thing is he goes along at such a clip in it that he’s like Charlton Heston in his chariot in Ben Hur. It’s okay at half nine in the morning before the sun gets too high, but later on in the heat of the day it’s murder trying to keep up with him.  

Now, I know you’ve been waiting for the latest update on the free beer and peanuts situation. Well, all I can think is that we must have really upset the landlord somehow when he gave them to us a few days ago, since not only did he not give us any again today for what must be the 3^rd or 4^th day running, he even ignored me for a couple of minutes before I could ask for dos cafés con leches and dos sin alcohols por favour. We’ve obviously done something, I just wish I knew what it was.  

Okay, so after we’d put the world to rights for the best part of an hour we wandered back, and the empty gas canister was still standing by the gates of the Casa Me Duck. Senor Gas was obviously a little late. Then when we went in we found out that he wasn’t late, but he’d just ignored Jen completely – even though she’d been standing in the gateway, brandishing the empty canister with one hand, and waving a 50 Euro note with the other. – There’s a mental picture to conjure with – I thought – but I don’t think at that moment she would have appreciated had I said it out loud. So anyway we sat down, formulated plans for dealing with the gas situation on Thursday, and forgot all about it. Until about an hour later when there was a furious honking from the street, as another Senor Gas arrived in the street. This one was the usual guy, and so the transaction was carried out  as it should have been. Who the hell the first guy was, and what he’d been doing is anybody’s guess, however, it’s worth noting that about an hour later a third one turned up honking at the end of the street. Is there a sudden rush on calor gas in the locality? Is everyone preparing for the little known local event, El Fiesta del Propane? I think we should be told. 

So to lunch then. We ate in a fish and chip restaurant in Quesada, which is about a 15-20 minute drive away from the casa. Or it should have been. Unfortunately my slow ears came into play when we were about 500 yards away from the restaurant, and by the time the instructions of where to turn had percolated through to my brain, we’d gone past. Twice. So we were a good 5 or 10 minutes longer than we needed to be. Now, the restaurant itself was a very, very British affair. Even if you hadn’t have worked it out from the way that the virtues of fish and chips were being trumpeted  from the window displays, the acres of red arms, legs and necks inside would have given it away. Nobody burns in the sun like we do. Honestly, it makes you proud to be British.  

The sketch with this post shows you the restaurant interior and some of our fellow diners. Now, I’d love to have something clever, witty and damning to say about the meal, but I can’t. It was, as they say in Spain, bleedin’ delicious. (Well, they say it in this particular part of Spain. Occasionally.)

 That, in all honesty, is pretty much it for today. We had a chat over lunch, and decided that I’ll go out on a proper all day sketchpedition tomorrow, when it won’t be affected one way or another by Jen and John’s schedules. Not sure yet exactly where – Murcia, Elche and Alicante all have their appeal, and all of them have attractions which I didn’t plumb the depths of last year. I’ll see how I feel when I get to the station in the morning. See you tomorrow.

August 21st - Elche

The last episode of An English Fool Abroad With his Sketchbook, Summer 2018. Thus ends the expedition, not exactly with a bang, but then not a whimper either.

We left for the hospital relatively early today, and were there before 10 am. We were quite hopeful that John would be allowed home today. He’d not been put on the nebuliser last night at all, which we took to be a good sign. So we took the big car, put the wheelchair in the back, and generally acted as we would if he was definitely coming home.

So we went up to John’s room, and we waited. And about 12:15 the Doctor put in an appearance. He told John that he could come home, and we gave a little cheer. However, we couldn’t go until they’d given us some forms and some medicine. Fine. So we waited again. It was between 90 minutes and two hours, but finally we were good to go.

By way of celebration we parked up by the nearest restaurant we could find, which was almost in the actual shadow of the hospital. This was the Restaurant El Mixto – El Mixto literally meaning ‘the Mixed’. Well, maybe not the most exciting name for a restaurant, but an appropriate one, since when you sat down you were confronted with three separate menus – the Spanish Menu, the Chinese Menu, and the Japanese one. The food was great, but they have a rather idiosyncratic way of serving a party of three. Jen was served with her starter and main at the same time. John and I weren’t served anything. Jen almost finished eating before my starter and main arrived together. John wasn’t served anything. Finally John’s starter arrived. Not his main, mind. That didn’t arrive until long after Jen and I had finished eating, and John had long since finished his starter. Oh well, as I said, it was extremely close to the hospital, which was all to the good. Normally I find that the hot weather is an appetite suppressant, but I was so hungry by the time we left the hospital that I could have eaten a scabby dog. In fact . . . no, let’s be fair, the food in the restaurant was fine.

I could have maybe gone on a another sketch hunt around the village after we got back, but then enough is as good as a feast. As it is I have just one double page left in my sketching journal, and that will do for the airport and for the journey home tomorrow. If you’ve been with me for the whole trip, then thanks very much. Watch this space for An English Fool Abroad with his Sketchbook again later on in the year.

Alicante Day Three (written 12th August)

Well, my friends, I’m sorry to report that today’s An English Fool Abroad with his Sketchbook is another pretty much foolishness free zone. Well, it’s Sunday, isn’t it?

If you read yesterday’s episode, you may be wondering about the Spanish evening at the Cerveceria which I mentioned yesterday. Well, apparently the wearing white is just a convention, nobody seemed to know any great significance to it. If you go the whole hog you wear it with a red neckerchief as well, but I didn’t notice anyone doing it last night. In fact it seemed as if quite a few hadn’t got the dress code memo, but then who am I to point the finger?

So, what was involved in the Spanish evening? Well, if I’m honest, it seemed pretty indistinguishable from an English evening. The only huge difference was that in Spain things do tend to get going much later. Although scheduled for a 9 pm start, people really didn’t start filling the place until about 10. Now, unfortunately Jen was taken quite ill during the evening – and all she had all the time we were there was a bottle of fizzy water. Trouper that she is she really didn’t want to come away, but by half ten she looked absolutely grey. So I went back to the Casa Me Duck, and fetched the car. I could have gone back after that, but to be honest, that sort of thing really isn’t my cup of tea. I don’t know whether it’s my Scottish ancestry or my profession as a teacher, but I don’t really want to see large groups of people enjoying themselves. Joking aside, I wouldn’t have felt right.

So to the sketches. Only two of them today. The first is an old Renault Four which is/was parked up a few streets away from the Casa Me Duck. Now, there were tons of these around when I was a kid, and I wouldn’t have looked at one twice then. But that’s kind of the point. I haven’t been a kid for a very long time now, and this car must have been between 40 and 50 years old. So that’s why I sketched it, enjoying a tranquil (and hot) retirement on the Costa Blanca, as indeed are a significant number of the locals. Having said that, John informs me that due to – and excuse me for using the B word – Brexit, a significant number of the ex-pat community on the Costa Blanca have sold up and moved back, and others have taken Spanish nationality. I’ll be honest, I can’t blame them. If it comes to trusting your future status to the British Government . . . Alright. No more political comments if I can help it.

One final sketch today then. This is the Las Palmeras restaurant in Crevillent. It’s a bit of a family tradition that we eat Sunday lunch at Las Palmeras when any family or friends are visiting with Jen and John. It’s a really nice place – inside, that is – though not much to look at outside. One of the huge attractions is that it has its own pool, and if it takes your fancy then you can spend the day in the pool, and have Sunday lunch – although it is frowned upon if you actually eat it in the pool. I accidentally on purpose left my swimming gear in Port Talbot, so that wasn’t an option. I think of it as a valuable public service. The sight of my near naked body has been enough to drive grown adults to vegetarianism in the past, but I digress. In the pool at lunchtime, though, were a very, umm, exuberant, shall we say, Spanish hen party. At one stage they were so loud that the Head waiter went and had a few words with them. I didn’t understand exactly what he said, but I’d lay odds that he wasn’t congratulating them on the attractiveness of their swimwear.

Well, that’s pretty much it for today. Thanks for staying with me over this relatively quiet few days. I’m taking the 10 am train into Murcia tomorrow morning, so there’s every chance of more entertaining news tomorrow. Watch this space.

10) Spain - Alicante Area - Catral-Dolores-La Marina area - Early August 2017

Church - outside Dolores

 Confession time. I saw this church as we waited by traffic lights in the car, and took a phot. This line and wash is based on that photo, and not made on the spot, sadly. It would have held up the traffic if I'd tries to do it in situ.

El Pinet Beach nr. La Marina

 This I did do sitting on the sand by the water's edge, and it's not too bad thought I say it myself.

Catral - late breakfast

 Will you please put your pen and your sketchbook down and eat your breakfast - I think that's what they said while I was doing this one. To which the answer was - no, sorry.

Catral Saturday morning market

 Too hard to stand painting in the market so had to make do with an ink sketch . I found that I got far more interested in combining figures to make the picture than I was in the scene itself.

Catral - evening in main street

Again - will you please put your bleep sketchbook down so we can go in and eat. We had a lovely Chinese meal too once I finished this one.

9) Spain - ALicante area - early August 2017

San Isidro Church nr. Alicante

 My mother in law, and my wife's stepfather live in a wee village called San Isidro, about 15/20 minutes outside Alicante on the Costa Blanca. The village itself was a new construct in the 1950s, and this modernist church dates from 1956. I'm not the greatest fan of modernism myself, but this building is clean and unfussy, and has a certain elegance. One thing I found about being in Spain was that the brightness of the light was an encouragement to be more adventurous with line and wash watercolour.

Backstreet roof garden San Isidro nr. Alicante

 I just liked this back street roof garden.

Former San Isidro Station platform shelter - San Isidro nr. Alicante

 Now, when they rebuilt San Isidro - Catral - Albatera station a few years ago, they did a very clever and rather wonderful thing. They took this, the back wall of the station and the canopy over the platform, and transplanted it in another street to provide a rather lovely public performance space. Bravo.

La Cerveceria - San Isidro - nr. Alicante

 This is the Cerveceria - a restaurant which hosted my mother in law's birthday party, while the painting below shows her house and smart car.

San Isidro Street - nr. Alicante