The big 40 is looming large in the not too distant future. Time marches on relentlessly. Even the clocks spring forward to bring the big day closer. So what to do? Why not take a trip back in time. I wonder what was number one on the day I was born?
I really wish I hadn’t. The biggest selling single on the day I came to be was “Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep” by Middle of the Road. Thanks to pissed up Brits partying on the costas and Tony Blackburn, this song was propelled to the top of the charts where it stayed for 5 weeks. It unbelievably went on to sell more than 10 million copies world-wide. Sangria is potent stuff for sure!
The only thing more depressing was the following number 1 hit in the UK was seriously cool. To just delay my arrival by 21 days would not only mean the big 40 would be a little further away, my number 1 would be T-Rex’s “Get in on!”. I would also be a lion rather than the crab. There are no downsides to this. My life would have been a whole lot better! Thanks Mum and Dad. You have ruined my life!
Maybe I could cheat my past. What if I was born in the good ol’ US of A? I’d be on to a winner. The Billboard number 1 in the US was The Rolling Stones with “Brown Sugar”. Suddenly being American becomes a no-brainer. Who cares that England can’t play football. 40 odd years of hurt? Hello! I wouldn’t give a toss about football. It would be Grid Iron. And America always finish as world champions. That would be like TOTALLY AWESOME!
But before I could even look into becoming a US Citizen my fantasy came crashing down. It was a mistake. A typo on the poxy web page I had pinned all my hopes on. “Brown Sugar” was not number 1 from May 29th to July 11th 1971. No, Mick’s tune could only make in to June 11th. My number 1 was “It’s too Late” by Carole King. As good a tune as it is, it’s not the Rolling Stones. Not cool. You can stick your American football up yer arse!
So what to do? Search the world for a country that had decent musical taste on the day that I was born? As the wise sage Omar from The Wire would say, “Indeed!”. I could be a pommie basher. Good at sports. Decent weather and I do enjoy a good Barbie. Number 1 Down Under was the promisingly named group “Daddy Cool” with “Eagle Rock”. Check out the video. I think I have a winner!
But what about my adopted country? What did the music loving Spaniards buy with their pesatas back in the day? “Que Sera” by Jose Feliciano and they loved it. It was number 1 for 8 weeks from the 29th May to the 24th July. I could revel in “La Roja’s” victorious Euro and World cup wins. An added bonus is I don’t have to bother looking up the number 1 tune in Italy as the song is Italian. Can I claim the Italian World Cup win too?
Which to choose? It’s a tough call. G’day mate!
What will this be?
Forget the rising cost of oil. It's that other precious rare commodity that everyone will be worrying about in Nerja this summer. The parking space. With two prime locations off Calle del Almirante Carranza being bricked off last year, there was further dismay when the small parking area off Calle de la Fabrica was blocked off for "Obras".
What will become of this place close to the rio? It certainly won't be for parking. Any guesses as to what it could be?
Circles in the sand?
Another plaza?
Another play area?
What will become of this place close to the rio? It certainly won't be for parking. Any guesses as to what it could be?
Circles in the sand?
Another plaza?
Another play area?
Farewell Chanquete
The finale to the Carnaval is the burial of the sardine. Or in this case, the exploding of the sardine. The inflatable fish is taken down to Calahonda beach and blown to smithereens.
Frontline seat?
We had found a perfect spot to watch the fireworks on the terrace of Papagayo. However, when the funeral procession arrived we were soon moved out of the area on health and safety grounds. I thought this was Spain? The worlds gone mad!
Not the best view in the world!
Further away from the action than I would like, we still had a great view of the firework display. Impressive as ever. The explosions of the fireworks made the ground shake violently.
The view of the sardine was not great. The pall bearers raised their hats for the final farewell. And then “Boom”. The end of the Carnaval 2011.
Frontline seat?
We had found a perfect spot to watch the fireworks on the terrace of Papagayo. However, when the funeral procession arrived we were soon moved out of the area on health and safety grounds. I thought this was Spain? The worlds gone mad!
Not the best view in the world!
Further away from the action than I would like, we still had a great view of the firework display. Impressive as ever. The explosions of the fireworks made the ground shake violently.
The view of the sardine was not great. The pall bearers raised their hats for the final farewell. And then “Boom”. The end of the Carnaval 2011.
Carnaval 2011 Entierro de Chanquete
The end of the Carnaval. The end of the festivities. Appropriate then that the revellers mourn its passing. This is done by the burial of the sardine.
The Sardine is prepared for the procession.
Like the main carnaval procession, there are prizes on offer. One of those up for grabs is for the best "doliente". The person grieving the most for the passing of the sardine! Hence, most of the people joining the walk are dressed in black and shedding many a tear.
You can't have a decent procession through the streets of Nerja without the band.
Colourful dolientes.
Chanquete 2011 RIP!
The Sardine is prepared for the procession.
Like the main carnaval procession, there are prizes on offer. One of those up for grabs is for the best "doliente". The person grieving the most for the passing of the sardine! Hence, most of the people joining the walk are dressed in black and shedding many a tear.
You can't have a decent procession through the streets of Nerja without the band.
Colourful dolientes.
Chanquete 2011 RIP!
Carnaval 2011 - Jukebox
Still in the party mood we went in search of some live music. Nothing doing in Rey Alfonso so we headed to Cochran’s to see what was going on.
The party was in full swing. A band we had not seen before were playing called “Jukebox”. They played a mixture of well known rock covers in both English and Spanish.
Jukebox playing at Cochran's.
Hot tottie on the dance floor!
It was great fun and the atmosphere is much improved thanks to the no-smoking law. It always helps when the band is good. I would definitely go and see "Jukebox" again.
The party was in full swing. A band we had not seen before were playing called “Jukebox”. They played a mixture of well known rock covers in both English and Spanish.
Jukebox playing at Cochran's.
Hot tottie on the dance floor!
It was great fun and the atmosphere is much improved thanks to the no-smoking law. It always helps when the band is good. I would definitely go and see "Jukebox" again.
The best of the Carnaval 2011
Carnaval de Nerja 2011
Party time in Nerja. Time to get creative. Come up with a great idea and dress up. Unless you are like me. Then its spending a couple of Euro at the nearest Chinese bazar and buying a wig and make-up.
Not creative but cheap!
Monica and Fabi after a visit to the Hairdressser went a bit wrong.
A few beers and all is well.
Brother and sister?
Mari Carmen shows us how it is done.
Not creative but cheap!
Monica and Fabi after a visit to the Hairdressser went a bit wrong.
A few beers and all is well.
Brother and sister?
Mari Carmen shows us how it is done.
Tapas Italiano!
Another tapas night in Nerja. This time with a chance to practice my Italian. Come stai! bene. Manga Manga. Enough of that lets eat and drink!
At Meson de Pepe Moles.
Tapas and Football. Que mas quiere!
Los Barriles.
At Meson de Pepe Moles.
Tapas and Football. Que mas quiere!
Los Barriles.
March Madness! The weather in Nerja
It has turned out to be quite a mild winter in Nerja. Certainly less rain than last winter, and plenty of warm sunny days. However, a thunderstorm and things change quickly.
A Beautiful summer's day in Nerja?
Enjoying the sunset on El Playazo.
Beautiful calm Med waters.
And Snow!
Que frio!
A Beautiful summer's day in Nerja?
Enjoying the sunset on El Playazo.
Beautiful calm Med waters.
And Snow!
Que frio!
Nurse Angie!
February was a month of firsts for me. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be my first skiing trip. That went by the wayside due to the other upcoming firsts. My first operation!
I’ve managed to keep myself away from hospitals for nearly 40 years (note the nearly Angela, just saying!). To say I was a little nervous was an understatement. It was only a “hernia operation”. A simple surgery to break your duck I suppose. But it still meant a General Anaesthetic. Still uncharted waters.
A big thanks to all my friends who helped me through the traumatic experience. All the staff at the Alexandra in Cheadle were superb at making me feel relaxed and they took away any fears I had about the operation. A very big special thank you to my private nurse, Angela. You were a rock! Still, it wouldn’t have been so special without a trademark “Angelism”. You didn’t disappoint!
Private Nurse Angie!
With the operation over and the effects of the anaesthetic wearing off, it was time to think about checking out. The nurse came in to check on my blood pressure. It was on the low side, but nothing to worry about. So I could go home then?
“You’re listed as an Inpatient. You won’t be going anywhere tonight.” was the reply. Panic began to set in. I’d never been in hospital overnight in my life. Surely my private nurse could save the day?
She sprang in to action. “She’s pulling your leg”. The nurse insisted she wasn’t. Angela went to the end of the bed and checked my chart. “Oh yes. You’re down as staying overnight”. The nurse then began to re-assure me. It’s standard procedure. The insurance is paying for it. The meals are excellent. You will be better cared for overnight.
At least the grub is good.
The conversation then turned to the weekend. I was shocked to find out that Saturday was going to be a busy day. Surely any self respecting surgeon would be on the golf course on a Saturday? Apparently they prefer to earn the cash with private work. They even schedule surgery on Friday evenings. Cue Angela.
“Yes but they can’t do surgery after 10pm”. Angela explained it was all to do with your natural biorhythms. I felt an Ange moment coming.
“That’s why most people die in hospital around 4am!”. Thanks, Ange. Very comforting to know that seeing that I’ve just been told I will be kept in overnight.
I’ve managed to keep myself away from hospitals for nearly 40 years (note the nearly Angela, just saying!). To say I was a little nervous was an understatement. It was only a “hernia operation”. A simple surgery to break your duck I suppose. But it still meant a General Anaesthetic. Still uncharted waters.
A big thanks to all my friends who helped me through the traumatic experience. All the staff at the Alexandra in Cheadle were superb at making me feel relaxed and they took away any fears I had about the operation. A very big special thank you to my private nurse, Angela. You were a rock! Still, it wouldn’t have been so special without a trademark “Angelism”. You didn’t disappoint!
Private Nurse Angie!
With the operation over and the effects of the anaesthetic wearing off, it was time to think about checking out. The nurse came in to check on my blood pressure. It was on the low side, but nothing to worry about. So I could go home then?
“You’re listed as an Inpatient. You won’t be going anywhere tonight.” was the reply. Panic began to set in. I’d never been in hospital overnight in my life. Surely my private nurse could save the day?
She sprang in to action. “She’s pulling your leg”. The nurse insisted she wasn’t. Angela went to the end of the bed and checked my chart. “Oh yes. You’re down as staying overnight”. The nurse then began to re-assure me. It’s standard procedure. The insurance is paying for it. The meals are excellent. You will be better cared for overnight.
At least the grub is good.
The conversation then turned to the weekend. I was shocked to find out that Saturday was going to be a busy day. Surely any self respecting surgeon would be on the golf course on a Saturday? Apparently they prefer to earn the cash with private work. They even schedule surgery on Friday evenings. Cue Angela.
“Yes but they can’t do surgery after 10pm”. Angela explained it was all to do with your natural biorhythms. I felt an Ange moment coming.
“That’s why most people die in hospital around 4am!”. Thanks, Ange. Very comforting to know that seeing that I’ve just been told I will be kept in overnight.
Learn Spanish with Mourinho! Echar.
The Spanish media are obsessed with "Mou". Not a day goes by without two or three reports on Cuartro about “The Special One”. He seems all to willing to play the role of the pantomime villain. However, he has gone a step too far now.
Aprende español con Mou!
It all started with an amazing spat with a journalist in one of the many pre-match audiences with Mourinho. The journalist had the termity to ask Mou whether he would be “complaining” about the fixture pile up.
“No son quejas, son verdades. ¿Eres hipócrita? Entonces di la verdad. ¿Piensas que son quejas? Entonces eres hipócrita", an apoplectic Special One spewed. “They are not complaints, they are truths. Are you a hypocrite? Then tell the truth. You think they are complaints? Then you are a hypocrite.”
The Spanish media had a bite and were in no mood to let the moment pass. Another question, another dig at Mou. This time comparing his record to that of his predecessor, Malaga’s manager Pelligrini. Did the Special One think that he would suffer the same fate come the end of the season, given that his “La Liga” points haul is less than the previous season’s efforts. Touch paper lit. Stand well back!
“Lo mismo no puede pasar, ¿sabes por qué? Porque si el Madrid me echa no voy a entrenar al Málaga. Iré a un club grande en Inglaterra o en Italia, no al Málaga.”. This is the comment that transforms Mourinho into public enemy number one in my book. “The same cannot happen. Do you know why? Because if Madrid sack me I won’t go to manage Malaga. I will go to a big club in England or Italy, not to Malaga.”
"Echar" To sack, to fire (Colloquial)
To Throw. "lo eché a la basura" = "I threw it away".
To give off, mouth off. "Mou echaba espuma por la boca" = "Mou was foaming at the mouth".
So Sr Pelligrini. No need for a team talk this evening when the blue and whites take the pitch at the Bernabeu. Stick Mou’s words up on the dressing room wall. Then let the boys ram them down his throat on the pitch. Aupa Malaga!
Aprende español con Mou!
It all started with an amazing spat with a journalist in one of the many pre-match audiences with Mourinho. The journalist had the termity to ask Mou whether he would be “complaining” about the fixture pile up.
“No son quejas, son verdades. ¿Eres hipócrita? Entonces di la verdad. ¿Piensas que son quejas? Entonces eres hipócrita", an apoplectic Special One spewed. “They are not complaints, they are truths. Are you a hypocrite? Then tell the truth. You think they are complaints? Then you are a hypocrite.”
The Spanish media had a bite and were in no mood to let the moment pass. Another question, another dig at Mou. This time comparing his record to that of his predecessor, Malaga’s manager Pelligrini. Did the Special One think that he would suffer the same fate come the end of the season, given that his “La Liga” points haul is less than the previous season’s efforts. Touch paper lit. Stand well back!
“Lo mismo no puede pasar, ¿sabes por qué? Porque si el Madrid me echa no voy a entrenar al Málaga. Iré a un club grande en Inglaterra o en Italia, no al Málaga.”. This is the comment that transforms Mourinho into public enemy number one in my book. “The same cannot happen. Do you know why? Because if Madrid sack me I won’t go to manage Malaga. I will go to a big club in England or Italy, not to Malaga.”
"Echar" To sack, to fire (Colloquial)
To Throw. "lo eché a la basura" = "I threw it away".
To give off, mouth off. "Mou echaba espuma por la boca" = "Mou was foaming at the mouth".
So Sr Pelligrini. No need for a team talk this evening when the blue and whites take the pitch at the Bernabeu. Stick Mou’s words up on the dressing room wall. Then let the boys ram them down his throat on the pitch. Aupa Malaga!