I've been a little lazy the last day or so, and when the History of Western Philosophy becomes a bit tiresome, as it did in the tenth century, I've turned on the telly a few times. Now this is based solely on my limited viewing so it may not always be true but blimey, the adverts! The paper says a film will start at 10:15pm so I turn the telly on at 10:14 and at 10:22 I'm still watching adverts: most of which seem to be for creams or sprays to either remove wrinkles or magic away cellulite. The film finally gets going and then after 40 minutes or so we get a 15 minute chunk of more adverts. Well, at least it's better than the US, but 15 minutes is akin to being bludgeoned by Madrid's equivalent of Madison Avenue. Then as the film is just about at its conclusion, I mean the last 10 minutes is about to kick off, or has kicked off when bang! Another 15 minutes... by the time we're back to the film I've forgotten the critical plot points and the last six minutes are something of an anticlimax.

Mind you, I find the ITV stuff in the UK annoying too, only this is more so. I wonder if the cable channels are any better (but not enough to actually get cable to find out).

The film by the way was the Missing, or the Forgotten, something like that with Julieanne Moore... it was a silly plot, and dubbed which meant that not only was it daft, it was daft and hard to follow.
  ¶ 3:09 PM 0 comments

  It's Saturday afternoon at around 3:45 and it seems like not much is stirring. The sun has been out the last couple of days, and the temperature's up in the mid 20s so the city has been transformed. Instead of groups of Spanish tourists wandering from church to cathedral in raingear and wearing fishing hats, they were wandering in sunglasses and everyone else (it seemed) was out on the streets earlier. The tables outside the cafes were busy, people were smiling and chatting. On Saturdays the market is busy early but no one else seems to be about until 11, then at around 12 there's a secret signal (I assume) and everyone else heads out to shop, to chat, to see and to be seen. Then at 2 everything shuts, that is, everything that hasn't already shut, and the streets become quiet, the traffic dies down, the pavements empty. The smell of grilled fish or the cooking of chickpeas wafts out from windows, open behind half closed shutters. It's getting on for lunch time.

I bought a load of salad stuff among other things this morning, it's warm enough so that my body actually is craving salad rather than hearty bean based stews. I'm lucky I was able to buy anything because a couple of days ago I had a brainstorm and managed to mangle my PIN and I still can't remember it (they're sending a renotification). Luckily Brian, Liz's dad was able to give me my PIN for my business account (which was back in Greetland) so I'm solvent but for a while there I thought I was going to have to make €50 go an awfully long way.

The upshot of that is that I splurged on cheese. The cheesemonger knows I'm working my way through the Asturian cheeses and today I picked this one, the Beyos goat's cheese (there's a cow and a sheep version too). Señor cheesemonger said it was really good but quite strong, to which I said that was fine. It´s got the texture of a dry cheshire cheese but very definite goatiness and it´s pretty tangy and salty the way a nice cheddar can be. So overall a thumbs up for Beyos.

In an hour or so the yoot will begin congregating for their Saturday afternoon yootfulness, I´m going to sit on the terrace and enjoy the peace while it lasts.  ¶ 5:38 PM 2 comments

  I picked up a card in the outdoor shop for a mountain group, more walking than climbing. Whereas the hills in England are rarely mountaineering, you can get led astray here. So: Montañismo is hill walking, up to and including winter hill walking, Senderismo is hiking but not necessarily up big hills, alpinismo is alpine style climbing, escalada deportivo is sport climbing and caminar is a bit of a stroll (I think). Anyway, I called the number on the card, and expressed an interest in joining them on their next walk. The lady on the phone, Ana, was very helpful and said the easiest way to find out more was to meet them in their office. They have an office. And a website which is here (Naranco is the name of the hill immediately to the west of Oviedo).

So last night I wandered along and met half a dozen lovely people. The office has a bookshelf full of trophies the group has got in its 30 year history, there are a set of old wooden ice-axes on the wall, along with some fine photographs. They told me a couple of the things they have planned (a week in Andorra in summer, a few weekends here and there as well as their usual programme of activities) and we chatted for a while. We had a little wine and some snacks (manchego cheese, anchovies and chorizo) because that´s what they do every Thursday. They made me feel very welcome, and I´m looking forward to the first walk (which is, coincidentaly, the same walk I did the very first time I came to the Picos five years ago) a week on Sunday.  ¶ 10:59 AM 2 comments

  That's what the barman/waiter at the cathedral de vino said when we asked him the difference between pinchos and tapas. He boiled it down to pinchos are more for one person, tapas are more for sharing. There was more but who has the time. The reason we asked is because we went there to taste the pincho they had which was a finalist in last year's pincho and tapas competition. This year's competition starts next week and now I have the map of the competitors I have an idea of what I'll be doing in the evenings now Liz is off to Italy.

We'd had a sidra at the Fontan and walked back, meandering past the Feria del Abril, which was a flamenco thing (unfortunately what we saw was like watching ballet schools putting on shows). Liz mentioned that she might like to try the pincho we saw the other day. So we did. It was called Orillas de Cantabria (The Cantabrian seashore). It came on a steel tray, curved like a wave at one end. A spoon rested on the tray and above it, held suspended over the tray by a wire, was a small cup, the size of a sherry glass, filled with rice. The waiter said you should put the spoon in your mouth for a taste of the seashore, and then afterward eat the rice for a taste of the earth. We did as he said and looked at each other as mouths filled with the tang of seaweed and salt air, the spoon held a bit of sea urchin essence, a tiny shred of seaweed and a few grains of whatever they made space dust from, the sweet that popped on your tongue. It was a little strange, as the crystals popped they filled your mouth with the sense of a rockpool. Then the rice, which was almost a risotto, with earthy wild mushrooms.

The waiter didn't tell us too much about their entry for this year, it's got chicken in, and we'll have to come back next week to taste it, but he did show us the previous year's serving style which was a piece of salmon suspended on a wire over the dish suggesting leaping salmon in a waterfall. I have the map here, there are 77 entrants for the competition, which is just in Oviedo. I may be gone some time...
  ¶ 9:54 AM 0 comments

  The day before yesterday we went to the cinema because the weather was a bit dodgy. There's a multiplex about 25 minutes walk away, and after looking over the listings in the sunday paper (La Nueva España this time) we decided on 21:Blackjack. There's not so much in the way of V.O. here it seems (that would be the version with Spanish subtitles) so we got the dubbed version. Fortunately I read the book this is (so so loosely) based on a while back and the opening Monty Hall problem is a common theme on one of the geeky blogs I read so I was in a good position to follow it. So with the caveat that I missed about a third of the dialogue I thought it was a bit lame, the drama seemed shoehorned in and the relentless Vegasness of it just felt morally grubby.

Yesterday however, was a different kettle of fish. At the philharmonic theatre they're putting on Lunes del cine (Mondays of cinema) and this month it's Alfred Hitchcock's World War, a selection of the master's wartime work, it's free entry too and that meant it was almost full. Last night it was Saboteur! This was much harder to follow, there seems to have been much more dialogue in old films, or this one at any rate (FSM help me if I get to watch Adam's Rib or The Philadelphia Story). Some of the dubbing seemed to have been done from the bottom of a well, and the rate of some of the more patriotic speeches would have been hard enough to get in English, it's harder still when you can't use any lip reading to help you guess the sounds. Still, the ending was classic, a chase including a bad guy invading a cinema screen, improbable rescue notes and a final showdown in the torch of the Statue of Liberty.

The chap introducing the film, I guess in keeping with the pacy dialogue, spoke at a fair lick too, I kept up better than Liz I think, because I knew a lot of the names he was using. His big joke was that handcuffs (esposas) is the same as a group of wives (esposas). Well I guess you had to be there...
  ¶ 6:31 PM 0 comments

  Liz arrived yesterday, which I'm pretty pleased about. We took a stroll after dinner, at around 11, the street was still fairly full of yoot being drunkenly youthful but they seem confined to just a few hangouts, I blame Burger King (for there is one on our road, and the yoot do seem to like it, they also like the Asturkebap shop just up the way too; kebabs and beer, who knew?).

We walked past a bar called Danny's Jazz cafe, so we went in. Nice! Lots of thirties and forties amerikana on the walls, and, I noticed, a poster for the Sun Ra Arkestra, so it wasn't all Cab Calloway. The sound system was playing a nice mix of forties jazz standards and a bit of bop, the three barstaff were chopping lemons, chatting idly and basically waiting for the evening proper to start. It filled up around midnight, I say filled up, but even a full bar here seems pretty quiet, the notion of four deep at the bar and threading your way carrying two pints through a tight packed crowd seems very foreign. All the bars have a notice of the capacity on the windows, Danny's is 65, there's a little corner bar by the market that has a capacity of 13. So the clientele came around midnight, I reckon the bar's open until 5.

Liz and I have to go into training so stay out so late... Although we'll probably go back to Danny's as the bar staff, when asked for a whisky, served a quadruple plus without blinking, so one of those and then you're on water for the rest of the night.
  ¶ 5:14 PM 0 comments

  I'd been swimming, so I had an appetite. I've worked my way up to, thanks to Liz's encouragement, sets of 10 or 20 laps of crawl at a time (I did 60 in total... yay me) so it's not surprising after just a traditional Spanish breakfast of some bread, toasted, with oil, I was peckish. I wandered into the bar and had a coffee, almost by reflex ordering. Then I noticed that the chap next to me had some tortilla sandwich affair that he was attacking with some gusto (I put relish there but I've seen neither hide nor hair of any relish). I asked the waiter what pinchos they had, that being what these fine bar snacks seem to be called, and he reeled off a list. When he got to calamares the squid receptor in my brain pinged and I said I'd have one of those then. Three minutes later and I was the proud possessor of a squid buttie, three fat rings of goodness in batter in a crusty but not brittle bread roll, hot and lovely.  ¶ 9:33 AM 1 comments

  I was idly browsing the stalls in the market, trying to overhear the way one would ask for a fish to be gutted (hey, it's no joke, they have over a dozen fish counters, and they're all full of fine looking fish) and I strolled past one of the veg stalls. I stopped and looked, what do I fancy for my tea, I thought. What would you like? The stallholder asked. Not sure, I said, have you got any spinach. She pointed to a bag of baby spinach and I started thinking, mmmmm spinach and cabrales with pasta. For what? She asked. I hesitated, I was making it up as I went along. For potes? Maybe, I said. You don't want that for potes (potes is one of the fine stews in these parts, hopefully Jorge will correct me if I'm wrong on that count ;-) this is better for potes, she pointed at a large bunch of spring greens (acelga). Another shopper had stopped and expressed her agreement, it's much better to use the acelga. I can't remember any spring greens in the potes I've had in the past, but never mind. The stallholder then reeled off the other ingredients I'd need and I bought some of them. The problem is that when you're on your own, just using a large onion and a large tomato can give rise to a dish of mythic proportions. I was being good at the weekend and cooked some beans for the week (the overnight soak and hour or three's boil) and this lunchtime I made some, well, I won't call it potes but it had onion, tomato, potato, garlic, chorizo, acelga, pinto beans, haricot beans and chickpeas in.

Nice as it is, I think it will last me until May!
  ¶ 6:56 PM 0 comments

 
This was my reading material this morning, I was suckered by the El Mundo offer of a free book, Spanish history from Trafalgar to the court of Charles IV. It's free and it's good practice, all in the past tense so very useful. I was happy to find El Mundo quite an easy read too, although it was full of Spanish Cabinet politics. Zapatero has just been sworn in for his second term and the government posts have been announced, so there were pages of profiles of politicians I've never heard of. The papers seem obsessed by the Minister for Equality, who at 31, is the youngest member of the government in Spanish history (I can't remember how old Pitt the younger was when he was PM but it was under 30 I'm sure). I like seeing the different focus in international papers, the only british story is the end of feudalism in Sark and there was a feature on Juande Ramos (apparently some football training bloke for Spurs) living in Chigwell. I think next week I'll try a different paper, there's a million of em.  ¶ 4:35 PM 1 comments

  They're called Gaitas, they only have one drone, unlike the scottish bagpipes which have three, and the tuning is different to the Galician pipes, in that you can lift any finger, not just uncover the holes in order. Well that's about all I know about the pipes, and that small amount is thanks to this man who very kindly chatted for a while after I asked him if I could take his picture. I also asked him if they do this every week. He said something to the effect that it's a part of some church celebrations, for some reason it's a sacred year (the university is 400 this year but I'm not sure it's related). This chap is a part of La Banda de Gaitas del Centro Asturiano de Oviedo. He said there are four bands and each Saturday (I'm not sure if it's all year, there are easily reached limits to my Spanish) they get dropped at one end of the old centre of the city and they play, then walk to another spot, play a bit more, walk to a bar for a cider and so on. He was keen to point out the procession of priests and altar boys between the Iglesia de San Isidro to the Catedral (he actually said there were monks and nuns and all they were missing were women in burqas; a little secular our piper fella I feel). I have to do a bit more digging to find out exactly what's going on.

Anyway, the pipes. They sounded pretty similar to a band of scots pipers, the drone's a little higher pitched, and they had drummers and it was all very bagpipey... mostly played for walking, it's not nearly martial enough to be marching music. They did play one tune that sounded like the start of 'Somewhere over the rainbow' and then went weird. I followed the band after they started playing and I noticed members of other groups who had played earlier. They'd finished and were taking advantage of being in the market to do their shopping. After a couple of minutes it seemed totally normal to see traditionally garbed Asturians, bagpipe tossed casually over one shoulder, picking out their lettuce. Of course, no one else seemed to notice anything strange at all.
  ¶ 4:53 PM 1 comments

  it's not the chief medical officer on the Enterprise, oh no, but a mere week after arriving I've taken my first classes here. The majority of institutes I wandered into were like kindergartens, crayoned pictures on the walls and bright colours, tiny chairs... I was beginning to be a little concerned (for purely practical reasons... I have no experience teaching the tots). But one of the schools seemed to be more focussed on adults and they were very keen to get me to work for them (maybe because they pay less than the others but there's a complicated formula to work out when you consider taking an offer which is based on how much lesson planning you have to do... also no one else had asked). They said they do stuff in companies, and for that you get double (for the travelling time), they do some classes for business high-ups and they're usually at 8am for which they pay double (either getting up pay or going to bed early pay). Both of those scenarios are fine with me, I was doing both in BA without any extra money, and when I think of those three hours a day on the bus...

So I've got two students already and a very short probationary period (I think it's over: they like me). When I say yes I'll be getting a contract then I have the joy of obtaining a Spanish social security number. I have a feeling that might make its way into a blog entry...
  ¶ 11:02 AM 2 comments

 
On the block, about six doors down the hill is a strange hybrid called Yuppi. I've noticed a few in the city, it's a mixture of bakery, newsagents, cafe bar and fast food place. In the entrance you can buy magazines, papers, bread, rotisseried chicken, DVDs and the like, in the back there's a shiny bar and restaurant area. The wood is lighter in colour than a lot of the bars and there's a ton of shiny brass but it's essentially the same as a thousand other city bars. The fine thing about Yuppi is that it's open early and late, and on Sunday afternoons/evenings, which is not as common as you might think. I walked past on Saturday morning, at about 9am and in the window there was a couple, he was on coffee she was on beer, and it was pretty obvious that they were just finishing off their night out. They were still there an hour later, still with the same drinks in front of them. At other times it's full of workers having a quick coffee at 11 or with the older ladies having their merienda (afternoon tea). They do breakfasts, including cooked ones, which I haven't tried yet, they disguise the fact by calling them brunch but bacon, eggs, black pudding and bread is a breakfast in my book.

I went in today for a quick coffee, sitting at the bar, with the only English book I brought with me, and I was a tiny bit hungry so I had a slice of tortilla, which came with bread. That and the coffee came to €2.25, I'm pretty sure that sort of thing is why Starbucks isn't on every corner (that and the Spanish would not know what to do with a decaf-skinny-frappa-latte-chino with hazelnut and caramel other than laugh at it; I sincerely hope that's the case at any rate... but what with the lamentable lacke of taste displayed nightly on TV I'm not so sure).  ¶ 5:20 PM 3 comments

  So: you're in a new place and you speak enough of the language to get around but not enough to actually, you know, engage in any sort of banter that would be beyond the average 5 year old. Back home you have this enormous store of knowledge, from personal experience, from TV, from friends, from everywhere. You know certain things without even knowing you know. Even if you last got a bus in 1978 you know that you pay the driver, you can say how much the fare is or where you're going (except Londoners, you and your fancy conductors are special). Before you try something as simple as using the bus I wonder, do you ever think, what if it's different? What if they use tokens? What if there's a machine and you have to use the correct change? What if the driver doesn't understand? WHAT IF PEOPLE STARE?

Or for instance, what if you go to the swimming baths and you have to have flip-flops or something similar? What if you have to wear a swimming cap? What if you inadvertantly start swimming in the wrong direction? What if you have to wear a pair of speedos four sizes too small (I'm thinking of you here France)? WHAT IF PEOPLE STARE?

And then, after the agonising five minutes of what if, you go ahead and use the bus, and go for a swim and find out that anywhere in the city is 85 centavos, and that you only need a cap, that the nice lifeguard will lend you, and you have an olympic sized lane to yourself, and that nobody bats an eye. Then you might feel a little foolish and people can tell that and they'll know you're different and THEY'LL STARE...

Or not. Because, well, it's just not a big deal.
  ¶ 7:02 PM 2 comments

  (I've just picked a photo from Jorge's stream. I didn't take the camera, it's not the sort of crag booty I want anyone to have)

I've just got back from a fine day's climbing thanks to Jorge, who I met via Flickr. For those that know my climbing history you will be surprised to know that we did 8 routes, of which two were three pitches each. If you've climbed Spanish limestone you'll know that it's not like the English stuff, where each hold might come off if you pull too hard, no, this stuff is like iron. Tiny little flake, thankyou very much pull like a good'un. None of it was hard, I think the hardes one we did was 5+ which Jorge led. But I did lead most of the others. Mainly because when Jorge handed me the rope I didn't know the Spanish for 'actually I've just done bouldering recently, and I'm not that confident on the sharp end and it would make me feel a lot more comfortable if you led' so I just tied on and climbed.

Limestone is much more positive than gritstone, and once you've got your eye in and can spot the holds without testing everything within reach it's a pleasure to climb on, you know you can put your foot on that tiny nubbin and it doesn't matter because you've got at least one whopping edge that you've sunk all your fingers into. Even the bolting is done with an eye to making you comfy, largely because the crag we were at is just up the hill from a climbing school (with an indoor wall with 3 glass walls).

The multipitches were lovely, there is not much to match standing on a belay (un reunion)looking out over a steep sided limestone valley (1500m on either side) while eagles circle... at least I think they were eagles, rather than vultures. Jorge tells me that there are quite a few walking and climbing groups, and that some of the climbing groups rent out gear cheaply... crampons and the like... so I'll be investigating that in the near future.
  ¶ 6:49 PM 1 comments

  (you may spot that the photos have nothing to do with the posts at the moment... well done, that´s deliberate, a deliberate result of laziness)

Pilar said, as she was showing me the cupboards in the kitchen, the last person in here left the pans in such a state she had to throw most of them out. This was as she showed me the two pans in the place. Both small. Although she did show me the sandwich toaster, one of those early models, pre electrical, basically two metal plates and a clasp that you can put on the hob and burn stuff with. It doesn't matter, she said, if you need anything you can get it from the Chinese across the street.

And lo, there is a Chinese bazaar across the street. It looks like a clothes shop, in the front there's just cheap clothes, the kind you find on market stalls Europe-wide. But if you head back a little, the shop narrows and you walk past electrical goods so shoddy they're sub market quality (I bought a number 1 radio, it doesn't even say where it's made, and of the four bands only two work: not that I expected much more).

After the electrical narrows, it opens out into six big aisles of the worst that China can offer. I bought a coffee maker which it turns out, can't make coffee (it's one of those stove top espresso machines, but it boils the water in the bottom and doesn't filter through to the top, I guess I got what I paid for). There's a row of gnomes, segueing into ceramic alsations that have 'welcome home' signs hanging from their tacky necks. There's stuff that you would be insulted to be given as third prize in a free raffle.

I bought some pans, a blunt knife, the uncoffee maker, the number one two of four band radio and some batteries. We'll see how long they last.  ¶ 6:49 PM 0 comments

  The bells stopped after their midnight fun, and didn´t get going again until 8. I thought I'd found some wifi in a cafe that was pretty close, until I tried to use it that is. The waitress told me the password, and I checked I was spelling it right, but for some reason, even though the signal meter was saying 98% for the wifi signal I couldn't get onto thweb. I'll just have to go and have a wander until I get to a cafe where I can log on. There are a number of wifi signals in the flat but I reckon I'll have to ask the neighbours. I tried the TV again. I noticed another arial socket but there was no real difference to the lack of picture, a bit more static, a bit more noise but nothing you could actually watch. I'm not sure I'll bother about it though. It's not like there's a ton of stuff I feel I can't miss.

I wandered for most of the afternoon, although I did have a plan. Thanks to the EBC, the people we did TEFL with in BA, I had a list of the English schools in Oviedo. Then it was just a case of finding them, so this morning was spent with a map and a pen, and this afternoon was about walking. I got to a dozen schools, there are a few more for tomorrow. The bad news so far, which I was pretty much expecting, was that the courses are coming to an end, rather than starting. Largely because the schools tend to cater for kids, and the kids' courses tend to follow the school year. The good news, I left my CV with everyone, and one of the chaps, at Oxford school said he'd be able go get me work in July/August at summer schools, and next year. So we'll see. I did get to orient myself with most of the city (the centre at least), even if it was pretty warm by the end of the afternoon.

At the moment I'm sitting in another cafe testing out the wifi, unfortunately I seem to be unable to connect anywhere it needs a password... which is a pain.

A couple have just sat down opposite, they, and more than one other table have got a set of four shot glasses and are bouncing coins off the table into the glasses. It´s just a tad annoying. They fill a couple of the glasses with coke and if they get the coin in the coke the other person drinks it (unless they do it on the second bounce, when they have to drink it). Fortunately I´ve just about finished my caña and I´m out of here.  ¶ 8:41 AM 1 comments

  I had an hour with Pilar going over the contract. It was fairly straightforward, the sort of stuff you'd find in any rental contract, but I guess it pays to take your time with that sort of stuff. After that we went through the inventory. Pilar had said soy meticulosa... and she wasn't kidding, we spent a few minutes in each room where I learned that, among other things, that mueble mural is fitted cupboards, cabecero is a headboard, un somier is a bed base, on which the colchón rests. I learned that visillos are net curtains and un especiero-portarrollos is a kitchen paper dispenser.

But it´s worth it for the apartment. I can hear the clock striking nine now, Pilar said it would stop at night, but it´s still light and I guess, seeing as we´re in Spain, nine is still really early.

After Pilar left, I went for a walk. On my street, on my block, there´s a supermarket, five bars, a bathroom fittings shop, a tea specialist, a fruteria, a cheese shop and a half dozen office blocks. In my building I think there´s the institute for foot health. Up the hill, on the next block, there is a Lidl, a tatoo parlour, a few clothes shops, pharmacies and a few more bars, one of which has a guinness sign. I bought some spicy very smoked chorizo and some cheese called Taramundi, after basically saying to the cheese shop lady, I´m not from round these parts.

I have a list of things to buy but it´s not as long as I thought it might be, some pans, some razors, a bit of soap, food. The apartment has towels, bedding, a telly that doesn´t get a single station. So for tomorrow I´ve got the todo list. It looks like this:

Buy phone SIM card
Get work

I like to keep things simple.
  ¶ 10:05 AM 3 comments

  So I just got off the phone with BT and the phat pipe gets closed off tomorrow. I've spent a couple of hours paring down my luggage and making liberal use of the phrase 'I'll buy one of those when I get there' until my main bag is under 20Kg and the hand luggage consists of my camera bag and the laptop.

I'm quite proud of the packing selection because I've got stuff to cover working in business environments right through to bivvying on top of mountains. I've even included the climbing gear because I know un hombre de la cuerda (a man of the rope).  ¶ 5:00 PM 0 comments