After returning from our recent trip from Thailand I found that I had a serious case of blogger’s block. I couldn’t think of anything to write about that had anything to do with Spain. I even found myself staring helplessly at problogger.net’s “Rediscovering Your Blogging Groove” series of posts, none of which did any good…

But now, just back from a trip to Andalusia, I have lots to say about Spain again, and look forward to recounting it all here over the next week or two. Moral of the story: if I want to write about Spain, I need to get out of the damn house and go and look at it once in a while!

Anyway, back to the “rediscovering your blogging groove” series. The latest piece of advice was to use a blog post to “tell a story“, so here goes. A question I am occasionally asked about my book, Errant in Iberia, is “what happened next”, and this is part of the story:

This blog started life as an experiment. I wanted to know how blogs worked, so posted the odd picture from Madrid, or comment on a Spanish news item, etc. About the same time I wrote an article in In Madrid, the local expat rag, on technology, which led to a phone call from an enterprising man named Rafe Jaffrey, who wanted to know if I knew anything about podcasting. I didn’t, so I looked into it, decided it was something I liked the sound of very much (making my own radio!) and started recording. Rafe and I set up In Madrid’s podcast for them and then left them to it (they gave up very quickly on the whole thing, big shame), and I started adding the Notes from Spain podcasts to this blog - firstly random musings from me, then Marina got involved, we started making travel-casts and cooking casts, and the podcasts started to improve.

Now the interesting bit. The Notes from Spain podcasts have led to wonderful things. First of all, work with Lonely Planet. I wrote several emails to the person in charge of on-line content complaining that the first LP podcasts, mainly telephone interviews with LP authors, were boring, that they should capitalise on their world-wide network to produce real ‘in-the-field’ audio - like the shows we were hacking together on our trips around Spain. Eventually, after my third pushy email, a very nice man called John got back to me, and purchased one of our podcasts for their feed - (the episode on the Basque Gastronomic society). We have now made 5 podcasts for Lonely Planet, including two from our Thailand trip (the first of which, from Bangkok, has just been published. Chiang Mai to follow soon). When I stop to think about it, making radio programs for Lonely Planet is a dream come true. It was the first time I had ever had the guts to repeatedly contact (harass) an institution I admired, and it really paid off.

Secondly, I was contacted by a commissioning editor at Fodors who enjoyed the podcasts and wondered if I would like to edit a chapter for their 2007 Spain guide. I chose Galicia and Asturias, and Marina and I spent a fun couple of weeks running around up north checking up on hotels, restaurants etc. This year I wrote a couple of introductory sections for their 2008 guide. Wow, now it was Lonely Planet and Fodors, and all because of the podcasts!

In the meantime, Marina and I made an experimental podcast in Spanish. It went down well, and led to a series of 31 Spanish podcasts in 31 days to raise money for my Enduro India motorbike trip. When I got back we discovered people wanted more Spanish podcasts, so we obliged, continuing with our 10 minute chats once a week or so on subjects we found interesting. We had requests for transcripts to go with the podcasts, and realised that would only be possible if we charged a small amount for them… which led to the following chain of events: we started producing worksheets that included a transcript for each conversation and we started an intermediate level, which led to more listeners and links, which led to an interview in El Pais, which led to an interview on Spanish radio and an offer of a substantial cash investment in our enterprise by a local language school owner over pints of Guiness - an offer that nearly made us fall off our seats in surprise, an offer of tens of thousands of euros that we had absolutely no need for, and were never going to accept. Finally, earlier this year Marina gave up her job as an IT consultant and now works full time with me on the Spanish podcasts, leaving behind her horrendous daily commute through 40 minutes of traffic to Tres Cantos.

For my part, it’s 7 months since I went anywhere near a translation, and 2 years since I gave up teaching, my two previous occupations in Spain. Thank goodness, as all of the above, the slow evolution of Notes from Spain and Notes in Spanish since Autumn 2005, followed a 2 to 3 year period where I was so sick of teaching English in a local company where students never turned up that I had lost most of my sense of self-worth and was suffering from pretty unpleasant psychological consequences.

So many thanks to the listeners, readers, Great-Madrid-Escapers and everyone else who has helped us get this far. There is a lot more to come! If there is any point to all this it is once again that there can be more to life as an expat than accepting that you will always have to do the jobs that you, and others, think that expats have to do. All you need is a passionate interest in something and, probably, a bit of an obsessive streak to make sure you stick at it, and who knows what might happen?

Hey, Spain bloggers, lovers and visitors - tell us one of your stories!

Ben and Marina are currently Errant in Iberia (you know, wandering around Spain), back next week with stories!

Meanwhile, did you hear about Spain’s number one most-wanted crook, El Solitario, being caught this week?

We’ve finished recording the second round of our Inspired Beginners Spanish Podcasts. The first, episode 6, is on-line now! Right, now we can relax for a bit!

Update: plus there is a new Spanish video blog from our trip to Thailand, and a competition with a $100 prize!

We were surprised on our recent trip to Thailand to see how much the Royal family are revered - so much so that on Mondays around half the population wear yellow t-shirts in honour of the king. What’s more, saying, printing, acting etc in any way that is defamatory to the Royal family can lead to serious trouble (a Swiss man was briefly jailed recently for drunkenly spray painting graffiti on pictures of the king, youtube is banned in Thailand for hosting a defamatory video about the king).

Well, it appears that every now and again similar measures can be applied to the press in Spain should they step out of line with their highnessess. Here is this weeks link:

“Royal romp cartoon lands Spanish magazine in trouble” - Yup, problems for El Jueves, who are still sporting the banned cover illustration on their site at the time of writing The image can now be seen here (not safe for work…)

Hmmm, what’s the Spanish for “freedom of speech?”

Damn, in my previous post on bull-running I suggested that it was probably a pretty silly thing to do. Funny how easily the mind forgets ones own moments of bull-related lunacy. Luckily Marina stepped in to remind me in the comments:

“I think he has forgotten about a “capea” he went to with some of our friends a few years ago. Before he left the house he swore that he wouldn’t go anywhere near the bull, which is not precisely what happened afterwards.”

I think the word is ‘busted’:

OK, so this is how it happened. About 3 years ago I was invited to the stag do of a Spanish friend, which took place in a small village near Toledo - En el culo del mundo, as the Spanish might put it. The venue for our night’s entertainment was the village bullring, probably the most dilapidated, run down excuse for a bull ring I have seen anywhere in Spain. In the bar overlooking the ring a large quantity of red meat and red wine was consumed, along with the customary visit of a young lady dressed (and later very undressed) as a nurse. It already felt like a Bigas Luna or Almodavar film well before the real evening’s entertainment got under way…

A few more after dinner gin and tonics were consumed for good measure and then, at about 2 a.m., it was time for the main event, the capea, which Marina described in her previous comments as… “a small bull fight game with only one small bull (which is still quite big) called a “vaquilla”. People can go down to the ring and have a go but the vaquilla doesn’t get killed. Usually it involves a party of some kind.”

Umm, well, that just about sums things up perfectly. Down we went into the ring, a small (but “still quite big”) bull with small (but “still quite big”) horns was released into the arena, and we ran around like idiots in front of it brandishing capes. Having sworn before leaving the house that I would not go anywhere near the animal and would stay safely in the stalls, I spent so much of the evening in the ring, that by the end of the night the Spaniards had dubbed me “Hemingway”.

It was tremendously exhilarating, incredibly good fun, and it was undoubtedly fairly dangerous for everyone except the bull, that went back to bed afterwards. I got butted in the backside and ended up flat on my back and bruised for days. And yes, now that my memory has been jogged by my kind wife, I suddenly understand exactly why people run in front of bulls in Pamplona. Wow did I feel alive that night. Boy am I a hypocrite for writing yesterday’s post…. Thanks Marina!

A very short (and quite bad) video I shot of the evenings madness:

San Fermines is coming to an end, the last bull run took place this morning, with just one minor goring.

I went to San Fermines in Pamplona a few years ago, and found it to be a massive anti-climax. Knowing we would have nowhere to stay for the night, we based ourselves in San Sebastian, caught a bus up to Pamplona to arrive at around 9 p.m., and intended to stay out all night until the morning bull run at 8 ish. It was the penultimate day of the fiesta, and when we arrived it was obvious that the city had partied itself into the ground. The streets were awash with piss, vomit, and empty spirits bottles.

Obviously San Fermines was as much about alcohol as it was about bulls. We tried our best to join in, getting stuck into the beer, tintos etc, but the whole city had a slightly tired, bored feel about it after 5 days of wild abandonment. We wandered around watching South American street sellers and their impromptu pavement markets being muscled off the streets by moody policemen. We went to a disco and my friend got robbed. I took him to the police station where even moodier policemen slammed doors in our faces and showed understandable disinterest in another wallet-less foreigner. Then most of the bars shut and we discovered that a) we had at least three hours to go until we could watch the bull running, and b) it was freezing cold, despite being early July. At 7 a.m. we thought ’sod the bulls’ and jumped on a bus back to the coast, tired, fed up, and wondering what on earth all the San Fermines fuss was all about.

Anyway, imagine being one of the surgeons on duty every morning at Pamplona’s General Hospital during the fiestas. At about 8 a.m. every day, when the bulls start chasing hundreds of lunatics through the streets just up the road, do you reluctantly start scrubbing your hands and slipping on your green theater overalls with a sigh, knowing full well that in less than an hour’s time the first seriously wounded young man is likely to come screaming though the doors? Will you be able to patch up a leg that has been massively mashed internally by a vast, filthy and reluctant horn, and despite your best efforts, will the young man walk properly again?

As much as I love wild Spanish fiestas, I just don’t get the running in front of bulls… Do you?

Rod finishes a great series on information and ideas for studying at Spanish language schools.

Ryan and Gabriella gather a selection of the blogosphere’s favourite reasonably priced Spanish wines.

When everything goes wrong in Pamplona: photos not for the faint hearted…

Lots of you are moving to Spain. Inspiring people - good luck! And all announced on July 11th!

“I just didn’t realise at the time how neanderthal the Spanish right is compared to much of Europe…” - more excellent political commentary from South of Watford, who remembers Miguel Ángel Blanco, whose assassination by ETA sparked national outrage 10 years ago.

“Earlier this week, up near Ourense, a truck carrying 48 fighting bulls overturned […] 4 escaped. These were last seen running eastwards in the direction of Pamplona…” From the excellent Thoughts from Galicia.

Notes in Spanish TV has a new episode from Thailand.

See anything good on the web this week?

After 3 wonderful weeks in South East Asia, it is hard to explain the alegria I feel to be back in Madrid, but here are 5 key points:

1. Wonderful weather. It’s damn hot, but it’s a lovely dry heat. (Washing dries on the line faster than a Porsche 911 reaches 60 mph!)

2. Sitting outside at night drinking cold beer on busy Madrid terrazas surrounded by beautiful Spanish people.

3. Croquetas. How I missed them.

4. Having my Macbook back - no more internet cafes (I am a sad geek, I admit it).

5. Ummm, well, I’m not sure there is a fifth, the above points cover food, drink, weather and work. What else does a man need?! (answers below please )

 

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Marina and I traveled down to Cordoba in May to check out the famous Patios and Rejas competition, when courtyards and windows all over the city are decorated with incredible floral displays.

Further info:

More photos from our trip (flowers galore!) over at Flickr.

Want to make your own salmorejo? Check out our salmorejo recipe and podcast.

We stayed at the simple, and highly recommendable Hotel Marisa and ate and drank wonderful things at Bar Santos, at Magistral Gonzalez Francés 3.

Before our recent trip to South East Asia we went to the Department of Transport (the dreaded Trafico), to pick up our international driving license. The guy behind the desk asked us where we were going. I told him we were heading to Thailand. “Tailandia…”, he replied, “…con lo bonito que es Toledo.” And with that pronouncement, that with beautiful Toledo on our doorstep why on earth would we go to Thailand, he gave us our documents and wandered off shaking his head.

Well, ten years ago I would have said that this was a typical Spanish reaction, that the Spaniards had no interest in going on holiday beyond Spain. Judging by our jumbo full of Spaniards flying back to Madrid from Bangkok, who had caught connecting flights in from all over Asia and Australasia, things have changed. Still, during various strange moments on our holiday (rabies shots for cat attacks, anti-biotics for infected mosquito bites, illness-aborted motorbike trips, rainy beaches…), that phrase kept creeping back into conversation… “Con lo bonito que es Toledo…”

Photos from the trip, for interested parties.