All things weddingy

I'm now well into the swing of planning our wedding this August and it has surprised me how much trouble I had choosing a colour scheme. My initial feelings were 'country wedding - country colours' - for me this would have been gentle pinks and peaches, glass jars of peonies, raffia placemats and a simple white flowing gown - a dress that was somewhere between grecian and boho. After much rooting around on sites like The Perfect Palette I decided on something along the lines of this gorgeous colour palette featured on love my dress:

Well, I was more or less content with this until I found THE DRESS. It's true what generations of brides have said before; 'you don't find the dress, the dress finds you'. Or at least that was my experience. It became clear on my first trip to a bridal shop (with a gaggle of my best friends for emotional support) that my plans for a modest country frock were not going to happen. What had never occurred to me is that the ladies who work in bridal shops have seen hundreds of brides-to-be walk though the doors and pretty much know what you'll look good in as soon as they clap eyes on you. You see, I'd never imagined myself in lace (prissy), strapless (need ample bosom) and mermaid cut (80's) but that's exactly what I've got - not through any evil plan of the lady at the wedding shop (Pronovias) to make me look yucky - but because it turns out that's exactly what happens to suit me (much to my surprise).

So, back to the colours. Turns out hollywood-diva-glamourpuss-dress would overshadow demure peonies and raffia baskets. Also, odd as this sounds I started to feel the pastels would suit a blonde much better than a brunette. Anyway, THE DRESS just screams out for bold colours, and as we wanted to give a wink to our multi-ethnic backgrounds (6 races between us!) but without having anything so obvious as Bollywood bling or Arabic geometrics - we decided on deep red, orange and a touch of fuscia along the lines of the photos below - both taken from lovely weddings featured on Martha Stewart.

Still, I wasn't quite happy with it. There seemed to be something missing to tie it all together - yes we had the colours but we didn't have a theme. It's not that having a theme is a must, just that a colour palette is just that - a set of coordinating colours that look good together but don't necessarily say much and run the risk of looking too matchy-matchy as you're tempted to get every single accessory, flower, napkin and invite  in those colours. So, the other morning I was reviewing (for the 100th time) the stuff I needed to buy before the big day and I came accross manton de manila on my list - one of those beautiful Spanish embroidered shawls that I'd always wanted to invest in and had planned to wear for the evening do. I'm after a white one with red and blue flowers, and it occurred to me that this would actually work really well as a colour palette. As it turns out we had decided to exchange rings in tiny Turkish Izmir ceramic bowls and I realised that these also tend to follow the red, white and blue palette. And with Turkey being a place both David and I had visited and loved it seemed to form the ideal basis for our colour scheme. Bless him, David is being very patient and showing admirable amounts of interest in all these girly dilemmas. So Izmir-meets-flamenco here we come! The whole Izmir thing also gave a gentle nod to our Eastern roots without going all-out ethnic. And not only does it include a strong red that matches up to my dress, it also includes blue which will be really nice to have as the venue (casa rural) looks out over the sea in Galicia and is a bit of a nod to my mum's coastal Bournemouth roots too :-) Everybody wins. The only thing we need to be careful of is the whole red, white and blue thing not looking too much like the French/British/US flag.

Over the past day or so I have been collecting bits of inspiration for this new set of colours and have actually bought the GAL lip balm favours for the ladies so there's no going back now!

(P.s. sorry for not including photo sources, but I had initially collected these for my own private inspiration and now that I've decided to post them I don't have the refereces. In any case if anyone has any rights issues give me a shout!)

This summer

I've finally got round to writing about our trip to Panama this summer, so here goes!
We started out in Panama City – and it was nothing like I expected: towering skyscrapers, fancy cars and malls bigger than anything I've seen in the UK. This contrasted sharply with the poverty and tumble-down houses seen in less-priviledged parts of the city. The most interesting part of the capital for me was the ‘casco ‘viejo’ or the old part of town which is being done up and experiencing something of a cultural revival, with a mix of little boutiques, European-style cafes and prettily painted and flower decked colonial houses.

From PC we made a trip to ‘La Chorerra’ where D’s grandparents live – it was so nice to see him reunited with them and to see that they were so lively and in such good shape. Than, we drove across Panama (an-oh-so-slightly terrifying experience!), stopping off with D’s uncle on the way before settling in the highlands of Boquete for a few days. Here we relaxed in the gorgeous Rancho de Caldera, went on coffee tours and cloud-forest safaris and saw a Quetzal (apparently the 2nd rarest bird in the world - no idea what the 1st is?!). Here's the view from our 'rancho'...

Next stop – the Caribbean! What surprised me about Bocas de Toro wasn’t so much the pristine palm fringed beaches, but the sheer amount of wildlife, which I just wasn’t expecting. Dolphins, sloths, colourful frogs, toucans, parrots, starfish, monkeys and more surrounded us. And perhaps the most memorable part of our days in Bocas was when we got to see giant sea turtles laying their eggs one night and then help recently-hatched baby sea turtles make their way to sea. The next photo is of the secluded beach just steps from our room.

From Bocas we drove back east through Panama and bid farewel to los abuelos. 2 weeks really wasn't enough to sample all that Panama has to offer - but here is my list of 5 unmissable things to do in Panama:

1. Eat, eat, eat: sancocho - a traditional type of chicken soup is delicious as are the fried plantains - patacones, ceviche made with Panama's national fish 'corvina' is yummy too. Also try the raspados from a roadside trolley - watch the seller grate fresh ice into your cup and top it off with a tropical juice of your choice – Passion fruit was a favourite of mine.

 Lobster on the Amador peninsula near Panama City (Los Bucaneros restaurant)

Ceviche at Amador

Raspados in the Casco Viejo

2. Buy a Mola - an indigenous indian embroidered panel that can be used as a wall hanging or sewn into a cushions, bag etc.

Source

3. Climb Mount Baru and see both the Pacific and the Caribbean sea from the same vantage point. I'm sorry to say we didn't do this due to the poor visibility at this time of the year, but I'm told it's well worth the climb (which can be done partially in car).

4. Get up close and personal with the wildlife

Red frog (the hand is mine)

5. The Panama Canal - lunch at the Miraflores Lock Visitor Centre while you watch the boats go  by is an unforgettable experience - the huge ships look like whole apartment blocks floating by and the food is excellent.

As we're saving these days I don't think I'll be going on any exotic trips for a while, but I have a weekend in Merida coming up and another in Galicia so I can't complain :-)

Laziness vs the urge to nest

I have to admit, I haven't been the most social of creatures lately. Work, moving away from the city centre, and being (please feel free to cringe) loved up have all kept me away from that place known as 'outside' for several months now. I keep promising to go out more, but come the weekend I'm so tired and life is so messy that often I just want to stay in and nest (aka tidy up). Trouble is, we don't stay in and nest, we stay in and watch films, take siestas, organize trips, make pancakes, drink wine, read, look at silly videos on Youtube and all other kinds of pretty unproductive but enjoyable pastimes.

Yet I fantasize about nesting, about all those homely, domestic-goddess type tasks that I promise I'll get round to as soon as we finish the next episode of Game of Thrones. I'm just reading over what I've written here and see, that without realising it I've become a Dinky 'Double Income No Kids' - not quite sure if I'm meant to be pleased about that, but I admit that for the moment, and for the first time, it does give me the 'luxury' of time-rich weekends but without all the strapped-for-cash issues of my 20s (and erm, a year ago). I must clarify that I didn't suddenly get rich or find a sugar daddy, just that money is thankfully no longer a big problem.

So here goes, my nesting projects for summer-autumn 2011 (I promise to stop using the N word from here on and while I’m at it I promise that I will never refer to myself as a yummy mummy no matter how smug and earth-motherly I become):

• Making home-made cleaning products. But you HATE cleaning! Yes, but I also hate the idea of using toxic nasties. I did a trawl of the various sites offering tips on ‘natural’ cleaning products and the verdict is that it’s better for the environment, better for health and better for my pocket. Just need to see if they work. As ever, I have trouble getting the right ingredients here - the recipes called for ingredients like white vinegar, castile soap and borax which you can get - but not from my local droguería who were aghast at the fact I wanted to buy food (vinegar) from a drug store. I figure out that for the moment Marseille soap and apple vinegar will have to do. Here are some recipe pages, one in Spanish and one in English – will let you know how I get on scrubbing the bath with half a lemon filled with bicarb!

• Cook something from one of my recipe books once a week. I don’t know when I stopped buying recipe books and just searched for recipes on the internet instead? But over the past few years, what was a bi-yearly shopping spree on Amazon has dwindled to nothing. However, I still have my shelves groaning with Nigellas, Nigels and Jamies waiting to be made proper use of. Surely even I can manage to delve into them once a week and try something new? I love this project an American couple set up to make use of their bulging food magazine collection.

• Buy a sewing machine and make stuff. I have always loved to sew and am not bad at it – it suits my quick-fix nature much better than knitting which I love the idea of but find painfully slow to get good at. I have this book by Amy Butler with loads of easy projects that can be speedily stitched and I love the fact that you can rustle up cloth napkin rings, cushion covers, and whatnot in less than an hour and avoid the neo-chintz ugliness that is the El Corte Inglés home department. And with Christmas 6 months away, do I have time to stingily but lovingly make all my presents?

• A meditation corner (or any peaceful little corner to call my own). I know you can meditate anywhere, but this is just a little luxury I’d love to have, space permitting. I don’t even meditate properly, but since last summer in Bali dedicating little bits of time to myself in the form of quiet contemplation or ‘just being’ have become quite important to me. Our home is a quite colourful due to the fact that we have the sum of 2 lives in one place, but this corner would be white, with my little white Buddha as a centerpiece – I imagine lots of whites and off-whites but different textures – velvet cushions, a plaster-framed mirror, a rag rug, scented candles, a notebook and pen, orchids… completely whimsical I know. I have a couple of examples that I’ve seen online (below) but none of them really capture what I have in mind - I'll have to do a post on furniture and accessories for a meditation corner.

Happy N******!

Eat, pray, love - which of these 2 things did I do in Bali?

I'm back in Madrid again after 2 weeks in Bali and a week in the UK, and I have to say, for the moment at least, I feel like a new woman :-)  Re this post title, for those of you who haven't read the book, Eat, pray, love is a book the true story of a woman who goes on a year-long journey of self-discovery after the dissolution of her marriage and a harrowing rebound relationship. Following this ordeal she ate in Italy, prayed in India and loved in Bali, once again finding her footing in life. It is hugely popular but has also been much-maligned as the self indulgent ramblings of a middle class woman who 'had it all'. In any case, I really liked it. Unlike Elizabth Gilbert, I didn't love in Bali - at least not in that way - but I did eat and pray/meditate an awful lot! I have so much to say about that wonderful island that I don't know quite where to begin. Perhaps in a homage to the book that confirmed I should book my trip to Bali it is fitting to do a little eat, pray, love of my own...

Eat

I have great food memories of Bali - delicious banana pancakes for breakfast, made of tiny sweet Balinese bananas. There were also many quick and economical lunches of Nasi Goreng (fried rice with chicken and vegetables) scooped up with prawn crackers that actually taste of prawn and sloshed with the sweet soy sauce known as kecap manis. Delicious satays, fire-hot salads, and black rice pudding with coconut milk were also abound. At the yoga retreat there were carefully prepared organic meals - curried prawns baked in banana leaves, fresh papaya for breakfast and ginger tea on tap. But it wasn't all local fayre and granola - to end the vacation in style my new-found yoga buddies and I dined in Asia's number 7 restaurant - Mosaik - 6 courses of gorgeous food in gorgeous surroundings.

My solo breakfast on my verandah on the 'silent day' at the retreat (the rest of the days we all ate together).

Nasi Goreng and Bintang beer

Banana pancakes at my simple but homely guest house the first 2 nights

Mosaik

Pray

I have never been blessed by 'men of the cloth' so many times in my life. There were visits to temples rarely frequented by westerners with my Madrid yoga friends. Decked out in full Balinese lady gear of a sarong, sash and a slightly sexy lacy tops (not the one in the photo below!) we knelt and prayed; a curious ritual involving the smoking of ones hands with insence, placing coloured flowers behind the ears, and pressing of rice into ones forehead and temples (this is unfortunately a bit of a crude and inaccurate description of this delicate process). We were then blessed by mangkus who anointed us with holy water, which we accepted with upturned palms and even drank (I didn't get Bali belly after consuming this local water - but seeing as it was holy that should come as no surprise :-)). After the trip with my Madrileño friends, I went on a wonderfully restorative yoga retreat in Ubud in central Bali. My week here started with a 2 hour ayurvedic massage, and just got better and better: yoga twice a day, great food, cycling, beauty treatments, meditation and making some great new freinds - all in lush surroundings.  We visited a sacred temple by night where we walked throught deep ancient stone pools dunking our heads under 'purifying' fountains as we went along and were blessed again by a local mangku. Much of the time in a Balinese household is devoted to making elaborate little offerings to the gods comprising of flowers, rice and on ocassion even cigarettes! The streets of Bali are literally paved with these offerings and I did a class on how to make them. In a fitting end to the more spiritual part of my holiday, on the final morning of the retreat we were invited to burn little bits of paper onto which we had written negative thoughts on a pyre of fragrant flower petals then throw them into the river. Adios silly preocupations (for now at least).

Monasteries and ceremonies

Making offerings from coconut leaves and filling them with flowers - each flower has a different significance

Love
I certainly didn't go to Bali to work on my love life - fact is for the past months I have pretty much shunned love as something that was 'for other people' (though my big-mouth bravado may have suggested otherwise). Now I feel that I may be just a little more ready to meet someone, but only just a little, so we'll see. To be honest I found that Bali, for all it's sensuality felt pretty chaste - even the cat calls seem harmless - at least compared to the obscenities I am used to hearing in Lavapies. It was only when I travelled to neighbouring island Nusa Lembongan that I suddenly felt a bit harangued as a woman - luckily I had a male friend accompanying me on this isle which we came to name la isla de los salidos - pervy/horny guy island. So, as I said, Bali was not really about amore for me - though permit me to get a little cheesy and say it was all about self-love and the love of friends.

The princess treatment

My own private beach

Looking back at what I've written here, it really doesn't capture the essence of the island, the things that really struck me. Things like waking up to the smell of frangipani flowers, the way strangers went out of their way to help me, sweet Ketut at the retreat who nervously smiled as he explained to us the ingredients of the latest organic meal to come from his kitchen, spooky tales of black magic, the toothless smile of an old mangku, new friends in far off places, my first time snorkeling, villagers greeting us with om swastiastu, funny lady market vendors claiming they were giving you a good price because you have nice body or insisting that buying this or that sarong bring good luck for you, crazy rides on the back of all manner of motorbikes, trucks and boats. Thank you for the memories Bali :-)

For those of you who I'm friends with on Facebook, sorry that you've seen these pics already! I'll be posting more on the blog soon.

A message from paradise

Bali truly is paradise, and the yoga retreat is better than I could ever have imagined! I'm here blogging on the centre's only computer (the retreat is called 'escape the world' so the whole idea is that you're not blogging and on facebook the whole time hence my near total absence these days!). I'll be back in the UK in a week or so where I'll post some photos from the trip before returning to Madrid. In the meantime here's a link to my 'wanderlist' (travel wishlist) which Alex and Mina have posted on their wonderful blog, Sending Postcards, where they document their travels round the world.

I take back everything I said about Primark

I'm in the UK as of several days ago, and I've finally got around to buying some clothes for my Bali trip. I didn't want to spend a fortune on travel wear and despite saying I wouldn't go anywhere near the place, I found myself in cheapo superstore Primark. I don't know what happened, but 1.5 hours later I emerged from there 60 pounds poorer but with approximately 10 new items of clothing bundled into a bag. I've always been a firm believer in 'you get what you pay for', but seeing nicely cut classic white tees at only 2 pounds that rule went straight out of the window. I was like 'who cares if they fall apart in two months!' I sincerely hope they are not made by children - a discreetly placed notice in the shop suggests they aren't, but the very fact the placard is there arouses suspicion. Also in my haul were pumps in black and metallic peach at 4 pounds, long floaty dresses, 2 quid leggings and some housewarming presents for my brother's new place (2 cushions for 6 pounds!) The only thing I'd say is that you have to rummage, you have to get past the idea of shopping being a pleasant experience for all the senses and you have to forget about attractive merchandising. Also, you definitely can't dress head to toe in stuff from here without being a little, er, flammable. But seriously, there is some nice stuff here. Viva bargains!

For Madrid dwellers who are interested there is a Primark in Carabanchel's chavvy Isla Azul shopping centre.

Boys, don’t do it! Top men’s summer fashion faux pas

Last year I had a go at us girls, and this time I’m having a go at the boys! Seriously though, it’s meant to be light-hearted, so don’t get too annoyed boys :-)

1. Bin Laden sandals. I would describe these as a heavy leather Jesus sandal with a chunky rubber tractor-tyre sole. I'm afraid I can't find an exact photo of what I mean but in my head I can see them loud and clear. They can be found as slip-ons, velcro-fastening, buckled or mules, but what they all have in common is that they’re hideous! A man can be beautifully decked out for summer; white linen shirt, bermudas that show off great calves, maybe the odd bead strung on a leather thong (not that kind of thong) – then you look down to his feet and he’s ruined it with BLSs (abbreviation). Perhaps my aversion to this type of footwear has something to do with the amount of time I’ve spent ‘in that part of the world’, indeed ‘my part of the world’ but it doesn’t matter if you’re a beard-free blondie – no-one can get away with this awful footwear that looks like a kind of saddle for feet.

2. Bare torsos. By bare torsos I mean naked chests on public transport and in restaurants – even beach restaurants. I don’t care if you have a six-pack or have specially shaved your chest for the occasion (which you see a lot of in Spain). It’s just not necessary!

3. Cut offs. Ok, it’s not fair to put this on the list as almost every boy I know wears cutoffs, but I have some inexplicable issues with them. Shorts I love, trousers too, but cutoffs, meh, luke-warm. Either get your legs out or hide them away. They seem to cut people off at the most unattractive part of the leg. To be fair, I hate cutoffs on myself too, and as a woman I have no idea how to make them look good. Wear them with flat shoes and I look like a slightly-bottom-heavy waddling duck (IMHO), with heels and it’s sort of a brunette slightly slutty Doris Day. Can’t win. Or maybe the Doris Day thing is a good look? If any of you ladies have any tips on how to look good in these then let me know!

4. ‘Holiday uniforms’. This means that special combo of garish sloganned T-shirt, tall towelling socks, white trainers, polyester bum-bag (fanny-pack) and a baseball cap. I know it's practical, but...

5. Other scary footwear: apart from the old bin ladens I have a few more to add to the list: a. Crocs – I know they are comfy, but unless you work in a hospital please do not wear them. b. Those ‘walking sandals’ (black canvas with velcro) unless you are actually walking.

Looking back at this list I can see that I’ve practically left men with nothing wear in summer, and while I understand I don’t really have the right to play at fashion police, please let me indulge in saying what I love men to wear in summer: Short-sleeved shirts in cotton or linen, khaki or chino shorts, nice flip-flops, crisp white Ts, canvas pumps, summer deck-shoes, cotton summer scarves for when it gets chilly, a touch of hawaiian or surfer look here and there...am I expecting too much metrosexuality? Or maybe I think we live in a Davidoff Cool Water ad? Perhaps the boys also have a list of what they’d like us to wear? High-heeled strappy sandals, tiny skirts, butt-skimming shorts and boob tubes? Or maybe, and hopefully, they’re not as demanding as me and they just want us to be comfortable :-)

Yummy Frozen Goodness

I've never tried frozen yoghurt before. Does that sound strange to readers from the States where I'm guessing it's really well-known? Well, I finally got to try it the other day in Madrid's newly inagurated frozen yoghurt bar - Ö! My Good - in Alonso Martínez. I'm not usually a fan of yoghurt, which I realise is almost unheard of, but I was so hot and bothered in the 37º sun that I thought I'd give it a try as I was in the neighbourhood. And O! my was it good! The decor was all super minimalist and cool and the yoghurt was great - more refreshing than ice-cream with a sort of creamy but tangy taste. The toppings on offer are a mixture of mouthwatering and healthy: everything from white chocolate buttons to goji berries and pineapple - personally I went for blackberries, chocolate brownie bits and caremalised soya seeds - topped off with a little complementary grated lime rind. Sounds odd but it worked. Final verdict? This sin't a substitute for ice-cream, but it is a yummy alternative. Best of all it's virtually fat and therefore guilt-free :-)

Calle Sagasta 32, Metro Alonso Martínez

Count down to summer

Image sourced via Creative Commons

In Spain we are lucky enough to work what is know as the jornada intensiva in summer, which means that in late June and all of July we work an 8-3 schedule instead of the normal 9-6. I've been doing this for a couple of weeks now, and I can't begin to say what a difference it makes to quality of life! I now have time to pop by art exhibitions at the Reina Sofia in the afternoons, do an extra yoga class, meet friends for an aperitif on one of my local terazzas or simply just go home and take a guilty nap or watch Anthony Bourdain re-runs on the sofa :-) It also gives me time to make the finishing touches on planning my trip to Bali this summer - as I mentioned a few weeks ago my accomodation and the yoga retreat is all but sorted out I just need to get myself a new suitcase and some Bali-esque clothes. I'm not sure that I really need a new suitcase - but as I'm travelling alone I do sometimes get a little worried about some 'new friend' putting something in my bag and things getting a bit Bankock Hilton (there's also this programme on Imagenio called encarcelados en el extranjero, translated roughly as 'banged up abroad' or something which has made me somewhat paranoid!). So, I figure a hard-cover suitcase wouldn't be a bad purchase, preferably Samsonite who have a great discount outlet in Las Rozas shopping village. Along the same lines of better safe than sorry I need to compare travel insurance quotes online before I go. Perhaps my favourite pre-trip purchase is going to be the clothes - I'm not going to buy much - but I would like a few essential items before I go, I know I can probably buy great stuff out there, but before jetting off I at least need to get a new bikini, cute flip flops, a beach cover-up and a sun hat.  Holiday clothes shopping list to follow ;-)

An evening with me

It's been a hectic week or so and I've been out every single evening for one reason or another. So tonight, I'm enjoying an evening in alone - magazines, a bit of light blogging, then pizza and salad with Top Chef :-)

P.s. the reason I'm bare-legged is because it's 40 degrees here!

Granita and Graffiti

Illegal chiringuito, the last night


Ridiculous car hire queues



Palermo

Been back from Sicily a few days now, and I think the post-holiday blues are starting to lift a bit (though really, I can't complain as I'm not back at work for over a week). These month-long southern European holidays are really great but they can make getting back to the grindstone that much harder - a month off gives you enough time to get a taste for 'mini retirements' a la Tim Ferris in The 4 hour work week - whereas when you take a week off you never quite forget the office. Anyway, here I am, coming to terms with the fact that most of us have to work in order to survive and telling myself that the guys in the office are quite nice really, my boss doesn't throw rotton tomatoes at me and I can work from home occasionally, so hey things aren't that bad :-) And what did I make of Sicily? Well Palermo welcomed you a bit like a big dirty slap in the face (no, really), sweltering in August and piled high with stacks of refuse, anyone who could get away from the city in August clearly had. There were some beautiful monuments, but the impact of these was somehow lost when seen through the filter of extreme humidity, crazy queue jumping (yes, more than in Spain, and there it's not just the grannies) and bus fumes. But after a day or so in Palermo, something strange begins to happen, you start to warm to the place; you take a walk along the shoddy but delightfully multiracial promenade (delightfully multiracias sounds so cheesy I know, but it's true!), you discover once-charming little squares, illegal chiringuitos (street bars) in the previously Arab La Kalsa neighbourhood and somehow the general dirtiness instead of obscuring the more beautiful aspects of the city, actually enhances them somehow (a bit like putting Joan Rivers next to Jocelyn Wildestine... Joan Rivers starts to look beautiful... sorry, that was a punch below the belt). There's also no denying that the people are incredibly warm, friendly and eager to help you which always makes life a bit nicer. The food is very good, and the fruit and vegetables, taste, well, like fruit and vegetables - fresh and unmeddled with. A couple of weeks back I did a 'most refreshing summer drink' poll on the blog (just for curiosity's sake) and homemade lemonade came out tops - Sicily have their own version of this, granita de limone (a kind of lemony crushed ice, or slush puppy if you grew up in the UK) which we basically lived on for the whole 10 days. However, do not make the mistake of asking for a granita de menta because it tastes and looks like Listerine mouthwash. If however, there are any italians out there who know of a granita de menta that does not taste like medicine, please let me know! Another foodie delight of Sicily are the fruit stands, serving fresh, cold peeled and cut fruit (with granita poured over if you wish) which is perfect for lazy people such as myself who claim to like fruit but are too idle to actually prepare the stuff. Those of you who read the blog more or less regularly will know that I like to harp on about customer service, I don't know why I'm so obsessed with it (perhaps from working as an account exec in advertising for a few years where we practically had to tie clients shoe laces for them). Don't worry, I didn't ask anyone to tie my shoelaces in Sicily, but it was interesting to contrast the service with Spain. Ok, I admit I have occasionally bemoaned the sometimes moody service in Spanish restaurants and bars, but I can't deny that waiters here are pretty efficient and very speedy. Well, in contrast, Sicilian waiters were incredibly friendly and warm, but unfortunately kindness doesn't quell my ravenous hunger after a day's sightseeing, and it sometimes took what felt like centuries for a meal to be served. In one particular place in Sicily, we were the only customers and we were tended to by no less than six waiters (so we had three people each in theory), who nevertheless were unexplicaby unable to provide us with ice, water, cutlery or any of the other items that are key to a basic meal without being politely asked about 10 times. At first, I didn't understand why they were taking so long, but then I realised that each person had an assigned job, e.g. one was the napkin folder, another the antipasti plater etc, and there was no way you could get them to do anything (no matter how urgent) that would interrupt the all-important the napkin-folding, antipasti-plating etc until they had finished said job. The lady operating the open air barbequeue was also delaying proceedings as she grilled on a 'one for me, one for you' basis, openly gobbling up every other morsel of meat she cooked in front of our very eyes, before cooking the next item. In any case, none of this really pissed us off, as the staff were so good humoured and were probably paid absolute peanuts and had no lunchbreaks and are as such forced to eat on the job, it just made me smile. The best of Palermo? Perhaps the last night there was the nicest, in the La Kalsa neighbourhood, in a street bar we had previously discovered in the middle of a deserted piazza. listening to live cuban music, eating fresh fruit. The funniest? In the 2-hour queue for the hire car which was not remotely funny, especially when you had grown men constantly tyring to push in front of you using the 'I won't look at you, so you can't see me pushing' method - things got funny when our queue was dramatically fragmented by the spillage of a little juice (or some other liquid) on the floor)... All sounds quite normal so far, until someone calls the cleaning man to wipe up the albeit small but hazardous puddle on the marble floor... My Italian's not so good, but he basically edged his way up to the mess with a look of disgust on his face and a broom in hand and proceeded to say that it wasn't his job to clear up this kind of mess. It would seem that he was only in charge of paper mess, and after much moaning, he scuttled off and returned with a huge bag of used paper refuse, poured it all over the tiny drop of liquid on the floor and mashed the paper into it with the mop in attempt to dry it up, speading the originally small dirty zone all over the floor. He must have also added a bit of Fairy Liquid to the mix as it started to froth up and smear the floor, the paper breaking into little pieces. Finally he cleared up all the paper, putting back in the rubbish bag it came from, leaving the floor even dirtier than before. Talk about making mountains from molehills :-)

Summer food

Being July it's hot in Madrid, and I've hit upon my yearly dilemma - what to eat when it's too hot to cook? Salads are the obvious answer but frankly they just don't fill me up enough, and whilst you can accompany them with bread, the bread in Madrid often just isn't that great. Today however I hit upon a rare moment of creative inspiration when faced with the contents of my fridge: I mixed a jar of cooked brown lentils, chopped spring onion, spinach, chopped mint a bit of runny greek yoghurt, plus lemon juice, olive oil and seasoning (salt, pepper and a touch of cumin) to make a refreshing and filling salad that didn't involve potatoes or pasta (eat your heart out Delia Smith - excuse the pun). What do you eat when it's too hot to cook? Share some of your inspiration please!! As for summer drinks, my favourites are spritzers or natural fruit juices mixed with sparkling water - great when it's so hot that juice is just too cloying. Do I think I'm Nigella or something?