Once upon a time....
Adios Almunecar
21/September/2006 12:56 .Permalink
It looks like we are going. But there is an undeniable sadness tonight on saying goodbye to the town, a sadness of finality, of lost possibilities, of unfulfilled promises.
Putting out the rubbish this evening at 10.30 and meeting Jaime and Fiona was most certainly not just a coincidence. This had never occurred before in 8 years! In a typical unplanned way, they were the first people we met that led to the our eventual market pitch and my SAGA work teaching Tai Chi and Computers to tourists over the winter and spring months. Jaime was also helpful in finding us a flat.....and so many other things during out time here..... And now - unplanned - they are the people who have come to bade us farewell. It had to be. Perhaps what happens at the end, is that the moment stops being a repetition. It becomes again what it once was, what it always was, something new and fresh and pregnant with possibility.
Goodbye Jaime you uncarved block you.
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Almost
14/September/2006 11:55 .Permalink
Still no flat though we viewed 9 places in two days. Are we just too picky? Is this going to be the same problem as always - we want the mountain air and to be in the center of town at the same time. We want sea views whilst living inland. We want a bar next door in the middle of a forest. Is that too much to ask? I don´t think so.
Less then two weeks before we have to move out of the flat and still nowhere to move to. A sense of excitement is marred only by an equally forceful sense of disaster. But this is the balance that we have sought - for it is only the presence of these two extremes that serve to remind us that we are indeed alive once again. And that this unmapped route we have chosen - pot-holed, poorly lit and rutted as it may be - is infinitely preferable to a tarmaced motorway that neither weaves nor winds nor allows for spontaneous stops.
Its a delicious moment when life rolls irreversible forward.
Play: Ive changed my address - Diana Krall.
Time: Accommodation search 1
31/August/2006 12:54 .Permalink
2 days before we return inland to search for a flat to rent, time appears to have stopped altogether. Perhaps what happens in the lead up to major changes is that one too quickly eliminates the previous pattern. Its been dragged and dropped into the bin, but nothing new has been installed.
Everyone now seems to be supportive if a little confused - but they are staying and we are going. Unreconcilable differences.
What is beginning to concern me a little is the wait. My expectations are growing each day as to what what the town will provide for us. Is it too small? Is it really in the middle of no-where? Perhaps no tourists come for a good reason? Are we making a huge mistake leaving our friends, home and base for the last decade?
Too much time. Too much thought.
The Beginning of the end
01/July/2006 12:54 .Permalink
You always know when its time to move on. You may deny it, you may interpret it as something else, but eventually the moment strides up to you and just stands there, right in your face. Thats when it all breaks down: its the beginning of the end.
Before it gets that far, its always worth looking our for the signs. My favorites are when the electrical stuff starts to break down. This week the strimmer on the land broke, my mobile phone packed up, the generator at last keeled over, the solar inverter caught fire and our gas fridge (the one everyone kept telling us: - whoa, gas fridges, now they never go wrong.) went seriously wrong.
So, do we prop up the old regime or vote for change?
We have chosen to do both. Repair the old whilst planning the new. The house has been repaired and so in theory goes on sale today as a symbol of this change. www.melion.es
We have put so much energy and time into the place its time for new blood. We love living above the clouds, it is unique, it is very very special and it is unlike anywhere we have ever lived before. But, unquestionably now it is time to let go and move on.
To consolidate the decision, this morning we handed in the notice on the town flat. Interestingly, friends do not argue us out of this decision. What does that mean? Do they want us to go? Do they think that we wont do it? Signs! Unlike Coelho, I havnt still learnt to read this universal language.
I am trying though.
Settled?
01/January/2006 12:49 .Permalink
Get Me Away From Here I´m Dying, sung Belle and Sebastion whilst I stood at the corner of our terrace facing the Mediterranean and the shores of Africa beyond. I was convinced, yet again that my ipod was doing this on purpose. It had a habit of randomly selecting songs from my collection to the same tune my mind randomly selected thoughts. Centuries ago in other lands, yarrow stalks were once cast upon the ground and their pattern interpreted so as to be able to choose the best path that lay ahead.
Today such random activity can, it appears, be activated digitally.
Coastal living and coastal life in Spain. We fell for it like so many others: the Mediterranean dream. But we hadn´t just swallowed the El Dorado soaps, the snack-bites of Spanish life served daily in the gloom of north Europe. We escaped the Isles just before the TV tsunami hit the sun starved masses. And when it did hit, we had already been living inland for several years, supping manchadas - milky coffees - the breadth of Spain: Cataluna, Castlla la Mancha, Castilla y Leon and finally Andalusia. At last we settled on the Granada coast where we have been for the last 8 years. But settled was the last thing that the coast had in mind.It was about to experience a property fever and a wave of sun seekers like never before.
But devoid of pap TV we remained in blissful ignorance, for a short while at least, working the open markets and drifting between the beach and the mountians.
At first we had a small rented attic flat above the sea, between the castle and the rocky outcrop that symbolizes this tropical coastal resort. Almost surrounded by sea, it had a two tiered terrace and the chance to sleep to the sound of waves. A cheap one-roomed dwelling that served us as temporary home and a base for coastal life.
Our second abode was above the clouds. Our home in the mountains - an abandoned olive grove with a newly built house extension and almost total isolation from the world. Our own spring, solar power, wood for fuel and even of some home grown vegetables - and of course an olive or two.
What more could anyone want? If happiness was found in the garden of eden then we had indeed found it here. Only, something seemed out of place. We had friends, we had work but we still felt something fundamental was missing. Despite the information highway arriving at our door the most simplest questions were left unanswered. What makes a place become your home? Where does contentment lie? I googled it but to no avail. I tried meditating, meandering and messaging but was left unsatisfied. Then one sharp and clear morning I looked further down the valley and if I wasn't mistaken, the grass looked definitely greener down that way.
Armed with ipod and Tao Te Ching I set off.
Play: Talking heads - the road to nowhere
Watch: South of Granada.
Read: As I walked out one midsummer morning - Laurie Lee