I'm just recovering from the worst cold I've had in ages. So bad I actually went to the doctor's (really to make sure I didn't have tonsilitis). This was my first experience of the Spanish local medical centre.

You need an appointment, but I got one for 10:30 after walking in to the medical centre at 9am (all of one block away). I had a quick look at the dictionary to get the vocab right (painful, mucus, sore throat, really quite painful: gunked up was not there however).

I wandered back and took my seat outside the right door, along with the other ill folk. There were no magazines. That didn't matter because I was called in at 10:32, which is pretty good. The doctor was pleasant enough, although quick. No small talk, no history taking, not much more than take temperature, listen to breathing, look at tonsils.

No tonsilitis, no chest infection (yet), so she gave me a prescription for lemsip... well it's pretty much lemsip, paracetamol, codeine phospate and vitamin C. At least with a prescription it's cheap.

Now, four days later, I'm starting to feel better, I've had to have four days off work, can't teach if you can't talk. I tried taking a few photos mid-cough... didn't really work but I made a few funny faces.  ¶ 1:50 PM 0 comments

 

Liz's parents came over at the weekend for a brief visit, so we did the 'introduction to Asturias' weekend which goes something like this:

Dinner at a Sidreria (a cider house) where they could see the traditional cider pouring going on, and try some of the forty different cheeses from the region.

A walk up to the mountains for a dinner of Pote or Fabada followed by stewed kid.

A coastal walk with the walking group.

A few hours spent strolling round the city, having the odd beer, coffee, watching the pipers and going round the market.

Taking the sun on the terrace and watching the building work going on opposite.

They really enjoyed it, and will be back for more in June. I came down with something on Saturday night, Liz claimed it was visitor flu, and had to miss the walk on Sunday. I worked Monday and Tuesday but I've given in and taken today off.  ¶ 1:42 PM 2 comments

  We went out for a curry last night with Covadonga, after she had told us of the existence of a curry house in the city, run by Pakistanis. It compared very favourably to UK curry houses, although chapatis didn't appear on the menu. When I asked if they did them they chap said yes and so they appeared.

Cova, like me and Liz, likes food and she told us that her dad often brings home sea urchins. This afternoon we got a message, she wanted to know if we were in so she could bring some round. Some! There was a bag full. You have to open them by inserting two forks, using them like reverse pliers. The shells crack open, spines pinging off to far corners of the room, and inside is the lovely... stuff. Let's be honest, there's orangey bits and brown bits and other bits... I've no idea what each bit is but I do like how they taste.
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  I usually take a little hip flask of whisky on the walks, just for a drop at the summit and to share it around, for most of the group have only tried Johhny Walker or (shudder) Hundred Pipers (or even DYC: Spain's very own whisky, only to be drunk when drunk, and even then, only with coke or something to cover the taste).
Andrés brings Orujo or other home made spirits, or home flavoured. These are usually sweet, but pleasant enough. He also bakes and cooks and brings along tortillas and tarts and cakes. You can't refuse either, well, we can't anyway.

A couple of others carry wine skins. Bernardo (the chap in his eighties) was scoffing at the amount the youngsters (Paco, in his mid fifties) carry. He pointed to his very small knapsack (the kind of cloth and leather, buckled job that was probably all the rage in the forties) and said he had his jacket, his hat, his umbrella and in his bag just a half litre of wine and some cheese, meat and bread and his knife and that was it. No water...

So we've had to try the skins, they keep the wine cool, but there's a knack to it. We were told, you have to hold it like a woman, soft around the neck and squeeze the bottom hard (followed by quick 'it's a joke, it's a joke' comments, in case we hadn't got that they weren't being serious).

Of course we had faces full of wine in no time.  ¶ 12:37 PM 0 comments

  Liz, being healthy and wise in these matters, buys a lot of fruit and veg. And, wanting to support the local economy, often buys them from the old girls outside the market on a Thursday or Saturday. A few weeks ago, as she was leaving, laden with kale, cabbage, potatoes and leeks, the lady she was buying from popped an egg in her pocket with a sort of knowing wink.

I think this was a code and we've now cracked it. The selling of eggs by these ladies is very furtively done. They keep them out of sight and they look around before actually getting them out. We think it's not really allowed, maybe they're only allowed to sell veg, and not even the broadest definition of the local law (unlike, for example, my definition of fruit to include cheese - fruit of the cow) let's them do it openly, so they just ignore the rules and get on with it.

Yesterday Liz bought some eggs from one lady and later, as we were leaving, another quietly said '¿Quieres huevos?'  ¶ 8:10 PM 0 comments

  This week was carnival. Unsurprisingly they do things differently here: no Jif lemon day for a start (mind you that's not a major problem because you can get pancakes most places). Instead they do carnival, and not just on fat Tuesday either, they spread it out so in Avilés it was on Saturday, in Gijon on Tuesday and in Oviedo yesterday. We went with Maria Jesús and Covadonga to Avilés last week for the early part of the evening, a parade of floats combined with a lot of foam. They said that pretty much everyone is in fancy dress and they weren't kidding. It's unusual to see so many adults in costume without the aid of alcohol. The yoot turned up in waterproofs and had fun in the foam and water cannons, then went home and changed into their costumes.

Oviedo is said to be much tamer, although they too had a parade of floats (sans foam this time) and folk in costume. There was a drumming nun troupe (silver habits and faces, I don't think any of them had actually taken holy orders and there was the group of non-politically-correct burka-wearing folk (whose burkas were fashioned from vyleda mop material...

Then later, in the street, there were hordes of yoot again in fancy dress, again without the support of excess alcohol. We saw doctors, nurses, mini mouses, Jasons, Princes Valiant, Spider men, hippies, TV heads, cats, dogs, cowboys and girls, cross dressers and chickens... all doing what they normally do on Saturday nights, only in costume. I did feel a little craving for some Jif lemon though...  ¶ 6:31 PM 3 comments