Barbour jackets

"Where's the denim jacket?" he said.

"The" being code for ours, ie originally bought for one of us, but then appropriated by the other, eg sweatshirts, rugby shirts, shirts, and 'the' denim jacket.

'The' denim jacket was in Spain, as far as I remembered.

"I'll wear my Barbour," he said, hauling the rather mouldy jacket out of storage.

The trouble with living in a warm sub-tropical climate (apart from cockroaches and mosquitoes) is that things do get a bit damp, and well, mouldy.

So we dug out the Barbour Thornproof Dressing that perhaps we should have used more than once in the last 20 years. And he got to work rewaxing the jacket to get rid of the surface mould.

Of course, once out in the street, in his newly waxed jacket, he was immediately accosted by an American tourist.



"Excuse me, do you speak English?" she said.

"Of course, can I help you?"

"Can I buy one of those jackets here?" she asked. "It looks so British, and used. And I want one."

Partner said that she could buy one here but not until tomorrow and that they are rather expensive. She didn't care, and she is here tomorrow. So he told her the two shops in Gib that sell them that we know of, Garcia in Main Street, and the shop down the bottom of Irish Town on the left hand side.

An hour or so later, he went to the pub, and had yet more admiring comments from Americans, who were about the same age as the Barbour jacket.

Brief history of our Barbour jackets: we bought them 22 years ago, for around £75+ for mine, £95+ for his. As I remember. I wore mine relentlessly in and out of London as a commuter. Mine is a Beaufort (or was). (His is a Northumbria - not made any more from what I can see).

Sadly my rough tough jacket did not like commuting in and out of London and soon began to wear. Despite being - allegedly - waterproof, windproof, thornproof, whatever proof, they aren't London-proof. Although as everyone knows, an aged and distressed Barbour is even more chic than a new one. To the extent you can now buy one pre-aged. Rather like buying faded Levis I suppose.

Many years later, mine was so - genuinely - aged and distressed, holes everywhere, zip not working (I have to step in and out of it because I can't undo it), that I decided to send it back to Barbour for a bit of TLC. Now, while I am a perfectly good seamstress I just did not have the time to faff around with the jacket.

No, it was not worth Barbour's time and my money to repair. It would be more cost effective to buy a new one. Having paid the glorious sum of nearly £10 to be told this, there was no way I was going to put even more money Barbour's way.

So I hung onto it, and continued to wriggle in and out of it, invariably to everyone's fascination wherever we went.

I haven't worn it for ages, but having spent the best part of two hours rewaxing it this morning, I decided to wander out in it to let the wax dry. I think you are meant to dry it with a hairdryer or something, but it's just as easy to walk outside here in Gib.

Oooh. It was very nice. I had forgotten how nice it feels and looks. Nothing like a scruffy, but well-waxed, Barbour to look so British and middle-class. Such a nice colour and so well cut.



Must buy another tin of wax. I think we bought this one 22 years ago at the same time.







Oh and en route, some passengers from a cruise ship in cruise ship uniform. It seems one is issued with cruise ship clothing so one doesn't get lost. Rather like school uniform. How quaint. Gib is not that big.



And a strelitzia, they are in full bloom now.



Barbour waxed cotton jackets

Beaufort jacket

Wicked partner

A couple of tourists were talking about Trafalgar Day (21 Oct) which I wrote about here in October last year.

Partner was eavesdropping as usual. Apparently the couple was confused about the battle. Have to say I am too, as it is not my period of history but it seems that the Brits under Nelson were fighting a joint fleet of French and Spanish ships.

Anyway, Partner walked past with the dog and said "Good evening" in his best British accent.

Whereupon the tourist said: "All the foreigners who live here can speak perfect English."

Partner decided to be doubly difficult and said: "Gracias, que pases un buen noche."

Whereupon they looked very confused.

His other line is usually, "Even when they come from the valleys." (of Wales).

I do hope he isn't putting off the tourists.

Up the Rock (1)

With the advent of autumn and a drop in the temperatures, I have finally been motivated to move my idle self away from the computer and get out and enjoy the beauty of the Rock.

Although Gibraltar is such a small place there are plenty of options for walks - city, maritime, historical, - on the flat, or hiking up the Rock.

Anyway, as I've slacked so much for ages, I decided to start a gradual programme of different routes up the Rock. It's always satisfying to charge uphill and see those calf muscles looking sturdy again.

So here are some pix from my walk at the weekend onto the Nature Reserve of the Upper Rock (some taken with the mobile as the camera batteries were playing up).

Entrance to the nature reserve


Looking down into bahia de Algeciras


One of the many rings embedded into the Rock, used for hauling guns up until early C20


A couple of autumnal plants


Information about the Royal Anglian Way


One of many disused batteries (Rooke), sadly fallen into disrepair


Grooming time


And another couple


The lower end of the Royal Anglian Way near Hayne's Cave Battery




A solo monkey sits atop the gateway through Charles V wall


Monkeys wandering round a mirador (viewpoint)


This one clearly has a head for heights


And is obviously bored with having his photo taken


The Union Jack Steps - start (or end) of a walk from town up the hillside

Fedra aground at Europa Point

Friday night saw torrential rain and violent winds.

But we slept safely in our beds while rescue services from Spain and Gibraltar saved the 31 strong crew from the 35,000 ton cargo ship, MV Fedra, which ran aground at Europa Point in the severe gale (sources report between Force 8 and Force 12).

The ship is Liberian registered and owned by a Greek shipping company.

Excellent work by the rescue services and apparently the crew have been released from hospital to a local hotel.

So, I thought it was time for a wander up to look. As did the rest of Gib and the south of Spain.

Police were positioned at the entrance to Europa Point, and cars and pedestrians were not allowed to enter.

Still, I finally managed to get some pix. I should add that I did not cross any police tape, or go anywhere that was closed off.

Hmm, not much to see here


Tape. No go area


Nice view of the mosque, lots of police cars, still no action


Oh, this is more like it, I can see part of a ship


In fact, here are two parts of the same ship, just not together


And another shot


A gun turret on the clifftop where I was wandering perilously to get a decent angle


Close-up - see the tiny people on there?


I guess I got more pix than most people who went up there today - and were turned back.



Sources: Gibfocus, Lloyd's List

Vichyssoise and Kenwoods

I had an urge to make soup, thanks to an internet pal - you know who you are - who always seems to be making soup.

In fact, I had an urge to make Vichyssoise, Crème Vichyssoise as it says in my very old Cordon Bleu cookery book. Especially as I had all the ingredients to hand. Which are as follows, my version first, classic one in brackets for purists/non-vegetarians and/or people who like to be precise about ingredients, as did I once upon a time.

A couple of raw leeks (3 large well blanched leeks)
Olive oil/butter (1 oz of butter)
1 stick celery (same)
2 or 3 potatoes (3 medium-sized potatoes)
Enough veg stock (1½ pints jellied chicken stock)
Soya milk (¼ pint thick cream)
Celery leaves (Chives/celery leaves)

Method
Slice leeks thinly and sweat in oil/butter until soft. Do not allow to colour. Add celery and potatoes, also thinly sliced, and the stock.

Simmer away until ready while you are doing something more interesting.

Blend. (Rub through a fine sieve - er, I don't think so - or Mouli).

Thin out with soya milk (stir in cream).

Put in fridge and chill.

Sprinkle on snipped celery leaves/chives when serving.

Easy huh? Except when I fished out my mother's Kenwood Chef which has been in storage for some time, the rubber seals had perished.

Now anyone who has ever had a Kenwood will know that if you forget to put the seals in the blender - soup sprays everywhere.

So the soup was sadly a no-no, and it went carefully in the fridge until I could go on a rubber seal hunt.

Come the next day, I bought a seal for the bottom bit, but not the top one.

I decided to risk it. The bottom one is definitely the essential one.

No bottom seal and whatever liquid is in there just flows up over the bottom part.

Held onto the lid firmly, which refused to screw on without its seal.

Yay! It worked. No soup all over the walls and floor. But I am going to find my spare seal in hiding somewhere in Spain for the top lid.

And the moral of the story is: do not throw away partially perished rubber seals because they may be better than nothing if you can't buy new. I had chucked the two old ones out, thinking naively that they were no use and I would be able to replace them easily.

Oh, and the soup was great. Not sure I made enough though.

No exciting pictures of the Kenwood and the rubber seals though. Camera batteries now playing up.

Cordon Bleu Cookery recipe courtesy of Rosemary Hume and Muriel Downes.

Gibraltar National Day 2008

Today is National Day so we duly got rigged out in red and white, or red and off white to be more accurate, and set off to John Mackintosh Square.

The venue has been changed this year from Casemates to John Mack which apparently has been quite controversial. The political speeches have also gone from the day too which seems to me to be no bad thing.

Anyways, John Mack Square was a pretty good venue, in my opinion, surrounded by the civic buildings. There was a great atmosphere. The current mayor, Solomon Levy, read out the Medallion of Honour Awards and the National Day Declaration. Then the red and white balloons were released and the Gibraltar Anthem was played.

After that, Radio Gibraltar broadcast live from the square playing music for the street party. And my camera batteries died, so no pix of balloons or partying people.

Maybe more later of fireworks or party-on.

Oh, and loved the No to Joint Sovereignty banner.










Fireworks. What is it with the camera settings? These were taken on Auto. I switched to Night and they were crap. New Year's Eve I even tried firework setting and that was the worst yet.





May write a comment on Clouds later about nationalism

Evening walk - and parrot talk

A good Sunday evening.

Out of the city walls through Prince Edward's Gate and heading off towards the Alameda Gardens.

The gate dates from 1790, and notice the sentry box on the left-hand side of the gate.



Not got very far before stopped by some Spanish-speaking guy in a car wanting to know how to get to the top of the Rock.

Well, it isn't too difficult, but he happened to be heading the wrong way to the route I would have chosen. Helpfully redirected him to retrace his steps in impeccable Spanish. P'ya. (phonetically) Actually should be "pa alla." - I think. "A la izquierda."

Then typically he twirled round in the middle of the road to clear off back up the Rock to find the easy route. Hope he enjoyed it.

Off to the Alameda Gardens.

Although it was warm, there was a breeze and lots of shade. Here is the pond with some huge fish and a tiny turtle (on the rock just above the ©).



And a longer shot of the pond with lots of green.



Next up, a bromeliad, unless anyone can tell me any different.



Highlight of the trip, a parrot - loro - who was happily perched on sign and chattering away to me.



And what beautiful red feathers in his tail.



Onwards and upwards and a misty view of Morocco in the distance.



Back home and papas (patatas) bravas for tea. This is a typical Spanish tapa although made differently in different regions and catering for local taste.



Chop potatoes into cubes and shallow fry in olive oil with some salt.

In separate pan, fry garlic, chillies, dried chilli powder/pimiento/paprika, and/or any other spices of choice, say half a chopped onion, and when the onion is soft, put in around half a tin of chopped tomatoes. I use organic.

When the two are ready, combine.

Serve with picante (hot and spicy) olives and a bread of choice. Today's was ciabatta.

Washed down with an Italian Chardonnay if anyone is interested.

A good end to a nice evening.

ETA: More of the same trip on Clouds tomorrow.

Losing your knickers

Always an embarrassing thing to do.

I found this pair deposited on my washing line.

So discretely left them on the noticeboard.

They were quite nice actually.

If you like multi-coloured knickers.

Strikes

The much-awaited reprieve from the strike at the border by the Police Nacionale has not happened.

The misinformation circulating around was that the police were going to take August off from their work-to-rule and this would ease the pressure at the frontier.

But cross-border workers are still facing delays of two or three hours to leave Gib every night, as the police check documentation and ID for everyone in a vehicle.

Apparently there have also been queues for pedestrians, as many workers are now leaving their cars at La Linea and walking across in the morning to avoid being late for work.

Luckily, touch wood, I haven't had to queue when I have crossed the border, but there again, I haven't been going at peak work-related times.

So at the weekend, I cruised merrily across without any delay.

Only to find the bus company was on strike. In Andalucía there is some odd rule about needing to provide a 25% service for strikes. So there was a bus the following morning at 7.15am, or there was one that night from Algeciras at 10pm which would have got me back too late to Málaga to get the last bus to my pueblo.

Wearily I turned round and trudged all the way back to the flat.

Partner said: "It wasn't destined to happen."

I had already gone back to the flat once after setting off because I had forgotten my keys. I'd arrived at the bus stop at exactly the same time as the bus and jumped on. Except I didn't have any sterling on me so had to pay in euros (which, for anyone who doesn't know about the rates in Gib, is dearer). Then I was sitting on the bus doing the double-check routine, passport, money (well euros anyway) and keys. No keys. I promptly jumped off the bus at the next stop, having paid a euro to travel a few yards. Damn. After that it was going to be quicker to walk to the frontier so I battled my way against all the tourists down Main Street. And on finding there were no buses, battled my way back against them.

Yesterday, I looked at the internet to see if there was any progress on the strike. Apparently there was going to be a meeting between the workers and management. I decided to wander over the border (needing a walk anyway), and see if there was any news at the bus station. No. Exactly the same. The really inconvenient 7.15am bus was still the only one of the day.

Did I need to buy a ticket in advance? I asked, thinking it might well be booked out.

No, said the ticket office man, there is no problem.

No, I thought, I'm hardly surprised. I hadn't even worked out what time I would have to get up, to wake myself up sufficiently to stagger down Main Street and across the border in time to get the bus.

Anyway, back to the bus strike. I see from a quick search today that the strike has now finished after more than six hours of intense negotiations, and a vote late last night to accept improved terms and conditions. The vote was 267 in favour of accepting the deal and 37 against.

According to Sur, the problems started when it was taken over by the British Company Doughty Hudson. Employees were unhappy with the terms and conditions and the health and safety practices.

The workers have accepted the offer of an extra 50 euros a month over the next two years, (30€ in 2009 and 20€ in 2010), a better deal for working Sundays and Bank Holidays, two days off a week, and a 1.5% cost of living rise.

The strike started last Wednesday (6 August) and has affected some 40,000 travellers a day. As well as me, of course.

The service should be back to normal between today and tomorrow.


Sources:
Yahoo! Finanzas (in Spanish)
Sur (in Spanish)
Sur in English

Dysfunctional .... and not another blog?

I have become dysfunctional.

This is as a result of leaving the embarrassing Gucci glasses behind at the finca in Spain.

The truth is that I do not feel as efficient in my (buy one) get one free pair. They are not bad, but they do not give me that forceful and efficient look.

I left the others behind because I decided to wear contact lenses for my trip back. So once I had put them in I promptly forgot to put my glasses in the travel bag.

Anyway, as I never intended this to be a blog about roadworks or glasses I have started a new blog because I don't have enough really.

It is fictional. Well, sort of fictional. It started off being based on someone, but my main character has morphed totally into a figment of my imagination.

So, if you are bored with glasses and roadworks (as dear reader, am I), check out Leonard's activities here. It's on the sidebar too. It is slightly off the wall, although maybe not to dog-bloggers. I have warned you.

Impressive

Having written about Señor Abusive and Señor Clueless I thought it would be good to redress the balance and write about PC Considerate.

There are a lot of road works at the moment in Main Street. Right now they have reached the bottom of our street. There is fencing between the roadworks and the narrow pavement.

Normally there is only just room for two people to pass closely and intimately on the pavement. Anyone who is in a rush, or who can't be bothered to wait for the window-shoppers, tends to nip into the road.

The other day I wandered out of the block to go to the shops. I had timed it very badly. There was a QUEUE. There was a long queue to go through the barricaded crossing on my street.

I should have looked out of the window, but I was hardly expecting a queue.

Anyway I dutifully joined the end of the queue, this being Gibraltar, we do queue.

As I looked ahead to see what the delay was, I saw three people in wheelchairs. And ahead of them all was a police officer, making sure that everyone coming in the opposite direction stood aside, either in a shop doorway or next to the fencing so that the people in wheelchairs could move along the narrow pavement without impatient people barging into them or blocking their progress.

And when they had passed the roadworks, I saw one of the people in the wheelchairs shaking hands and thanking the police officer for his time.

So in these days of rush, rudeness and abusiveness it was nice to see such thoughtful behaviour.