Being able to drink water straight from the tap
The number of hours of consistently rainy weather
Supermarkets where you go in and recognise what stuff is
Chinese & Indian take-always and other world cuisine
Green things
Art appreciation
The belief that 20 degrees is really starting to warm up
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
28 May 2014
18 April 2014
Salty sea dog pies
She asks me what I want for lunch and I say 'pie!' knowing that's not going to happen. So I tone it down to 'a duck egg.' Then I say 'or...... egg pie but with crumble topping, ooh and cheese in it and a tiny bit of white sauce and, and tuna!'
I'm out of bed and in the kitchen while (in my mind) she lies back, grinning and folding her hands thinking; '...and that's how you get lunch made for you.'
In the time it took to boil two duck eggs (4minutes), the bechamel sauce is done and the herby crumble topping is done. And thus were the salty sea dog pies born.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I'm out of bed and in the kitchen while (in my mind) she lies back, grinning and folding her hands thinking; '...and that's how you get lunch made for you.'
In the time it took to boil two duck eggs (4minutes), the bechamel sauce is done and the herby crumble topping is done. And thus were the salty sea dog pies born.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I just want a burger!!
Here's a story of a crazy Saturday when all I wanted was a burger.
I've discovered a great little eatery masquerading as a normal pizza joint. The food has been great every time I have gone and the burgers are JUICY!
Having not seen a particular friend in several weeks, we thought it would be agreeable to take her there for lunch and have an hour or two catching up.
Our friend arrived in a car with a guy and we got in, did a dramatic u-turn away from where we wanted to eat and sped off up the road, cutting corners and burning red lights.
The driver hands me his phone saying someone wants to speak to me. The man on the 'phone says; ' You will come to our school. We celebrate poetry. You are very welcome.' No burger then, I think.
We arrive at a swish building full of people dressed to the 9's. We are in jeans and I haven't washed my hair since travelling the week before because I got home to find the water heater was dead.
We sit round a cramped table. I try to make conversation in Arabic with the lady next to me; 'Are you all teachers here?' 'No.' End of conversation.
We finish the salad and along comes the whole goat. I'm not good at eating flesh off animals that still have eyes that can glare at me in an accusatory manner. Its teeth clunk on my glass as it is placed on the table. We eat. I attempt conversation; 'Are you from this town?' 'No.'
We are put in another car with two guys we don't know and our friend. She says we are going somewhere else now. To my mind this is unnecessary clarification. What I want to ask is what on earth is going on. I resist, as conversing has not worked too well for me so far today.
We arrive at an event to celebrate poetry. We sit for 40 minutes after its programmed start time waiting for...who knows, really? We politely enjoy two hours of poetry, song and dance in an Arabic we do not understand.
Attempt to leave #1:
A poet is signing books and people are milling around so we decide to slip out. Our friend begs us to stay ten minutes until refreshments are served, 'just for me?'
Attempt to leave #2:
After half an hour, at least, we gather our things but our escape route is blocked as someone comes and asks me to recite a poem. There are a good 250 people there. Well, it's not a burger but of course I want to read poetry. They get some TS Eliot.
Attempt to leave #3:
After I've sat down and people have mostly stopped staring at me, we stand and edge towards the door. Our exit is arrested by a gentleman who says we cannot go now because 'we have a song we want to dedicate to you'.
We give up on making our own choices, any prospect of a burger and end the day shaking our heads, laughing and wondering what just happened to us.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I've discovered a great little eatery masquerading as a normal pizza joint. The food has been great every time I have gone and the burgers are JUICY!
Having not seen a particular friend in several weeks, we thought it would be agreeable to take her there for lunch and have an hour or two catching up.
Our friend arrived in a car with a guy and we got in, did a dramatic u-turn away from where we wanted to eat and sped off up the road, cutting corners and burning red lights.
The driver hands me his phone saying someone wants to speak to me. The man on the 'phone says; ' You will come to our school. We celebrate poetry. You are very welcome.' No burger then, I think.
We arrive at a swish building full of people dressed to the 9's. We are in jeans and I haven't washed my hair since travelling the week before because I got home to find the water heater was dead.
We sit round a cramped table. I try to make conversation in Arabic with the lady next to me; 'Are you all teachers here?' 'No.' End of conversation.
We finish the salad and along comes the whole goat. I'm not good at eating flesh off animals that still have eyes that can glare at me in an accusatory manner. Its teeth clunk on my glass as it is placed on the table. We eat. I attempt conversation; 'Are you from this town?' 'No.'
We are put in another car with two guys we don't know and our friend. She says we are going somewhere else now. To my mind this is unnecessary clarification. What I want to ask is what on earth is going on. I resist, as conversing has not worked too well for me so far today.
We arrive at an event to celebrate poetry. We sit for 40 minutes after its programmed start time waiting for...who knows, really? We politely enjoy two hours of poetry, song and dance in an Arabic we do not understand.
Attempt to leave #1:
A poet is signing books and people are milling around so we decide to slip out. Our friend begs us to stay ten minutes until refreshments are served, 'just for me?'
Attempt to leave #2:
After half an hour, at least, we gather our things but our escape route is blocked as someone comes and asks me to recite a poem. There are a good 250 people there. Well, it's not a burger but of course I want to read poetry. They get some TS Eliot.
Attempt to leave #3:
After I've sat down and people have mostly stopped staring at me, we stand and edge towards the door. Our exit is arrested by a gentleman who says we cannot go now because 'we have a song we want to dedicate to you'.
We give up on making our own choices, any prospect of a burger and end the day shaking our heads, laughing and wondering what just happened to us.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
21 March 2014
The land that customer service forgot
Spitting feathers!
We are told the bus leaves at midday, then 11:30, then 10:30. The next day we are told it leaves at 11:00. It's gone 12:00 and there's no sign of movement.
We see all the bags loaded except ours. We go and ask why. We are told we have to take our own bags. They have already charged us double for our luggage.
We load our bags and get on the bus. Two men are sitting in seats 13 & 14. Ours. We point this out. One of the guys says there are no numbers on the seats. We point to the numbers on the seats. He says he knows but he's found his place.
We get off the bus. We are told to get on a different bus. We point out that our luggage is on this bus so no, we are not getting on another bus. No-one is really listening.
We try ask what is happening. We are ignored. Ten minutes later we ask again. We are told to wait. Ten minutes later I ask again. I am ignored
The driver starts to shut the door to the bus. I stick my foot in the door and repeat 'no'. Loudly. I resist because my travelling companion is uncomfortable with my barely contained rage at their ineptitude and rudeness.
We stand for another ten minutes watching the man trying to sort out the problem standing and chatting with his mates.
We get on the bus. Bristling. They get us two seats together. I blog to process so my travelling companion doesn't have be on the receiving end of my outrage.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
We are told the bus leaves at midday, then 11:30, then 10:30. The next day we are told it leaves at 11:00. It's gone 12:00 and there's no sign of movement.
We see all the bags loaded except ours. We go and ask why. We are told we have to take our own bags. They have already charged us double for our luggage.
We load our bags and get on the bus. Two men are sitting in seats 13 & 14. Ours. We point this out. One of the guys says there are no numbers on the seats. We point to the numbers on the seats. He says he knows but he's found his place.
We get off the bus. We are told to get on a different bus. We point out that our luggage is on this bus so no, we are not getting on another bus. No-one is really listening.
We try ask what is happening. We are ignored. Ten minutes later we ask again. We are told to wait. Ten minutes later I ask again. I am ignored
The driver starts to shut the door to the bus. I stick my foot in the door and repeat 'no'. Loudly. I resist because my travelling companion is uncomfortable with my barely contained rage at their ineptitude and rudeness.
We stand for another ten minutes watching the man trying to sort out the problem standing and chatting with his mates.
We get on the bus. Bristling. They get us two seats together. I blog to process so my travelling companion doesn't have be on the receiving end of my outrage.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
13 March 2014
Twin tub
HYPOTHESIS:
There is something rather romantic about doing your washing in a twin tub. Last time I used a twin tub was the early 80's.
METHOD:
You patiently wait while the first side fills with water by a tube from a tap on the wall. Time to make a brew while you wait.
Then you add your soap powder and set for a few minutes to spin. When that's done you transfer small amounts of clothes into the spinner and rinse with water from the hose. You stand there thinking how nice it is to just take your time over a job instead of pressing a button and rushing on to the next thing. You fluff up the clothes and hope the spinner works. You squash down the clothes and hope the spinner works. You repeat the above two instructions about half a dozen times. The spinner works. You tell yourself a slower pace of life is good thing. You hang up those clothes and start rinsing off the next small amount of clothes. You continue battling with the spinner for several more small loads. You drink some of that cold coffee you made. You hang out the last of the clothes and start on the second load. You wish you could somehow be doing something else at the same time. You crouch down to avoid leg cramps.
EQUIPMENT:
RESULTS:
Wrinkly hands, overly damp clothes, a whole morning gone, wet floors & questionably clean clothes.
CONCLUSION:
There is nothing romantic about using a twin tub.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
There is something rather romantic about doing your washing in a twin tub. Last time I used a twin tub was the early 80's.
METHOD:
You patiently wait while the first side fills with water by a tube from a tap on the wall. Time to make a brew while you wait.
Then you add your soap powder and set for a few minutes to spin. When that's done you transfer small amounts of clothes into the spinner and rinse with water from the hose. You stand there thinking how nice it is to just take your time over a job instead of pressing a button and rushing on to the next thing. You fluff up the clothes and hope the spinner works. You squash down the clothes and hope the spinner works. You repeat the above two instructions about half a dozen times. The spinner works. You tell yourself a slower pace of life is good thing. You hang up those clothes and start rinsing off the next small amount of clothes. You continue battling with the spinner for several more small loads. You drink some of that cold coffee you made. You hang out the last of the clothes and start on the second load. You wish you could somehow be doing something else at the same time. You crouch down to avoid leg cramps.
EQUIPMENT:
RESULTS:
Wrinkly hands, overly damp clothes, a whole morning gone, wet floors & questionably clean clothes.
CONCLUSION:
There is nothing romantic about using a twin tub.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
11 March 2014
Not too shabby!
Not an absolutely awful place to sit and do language drills...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Out of the classroom
Having a couple of weeks further south to get some non-classroom language learning (LAMP method)
It's going really well! Hard work but worth the effort.
In this culture where we can naturally spend a lot of time hanging out and chatting, we have decided to find a story that we could learn and memorise. We are about half way through and so far we have a guy who was travelling between two cities here but was set upon by thieves, all his stuff taken and badly beaten up. Someone has just approached him - a religious Christian - but I don't think they are going to do anything for him because they don't want to get their hands dirty. I think I can see someone else on the horizon who might help...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
It's going really well! Hard work but worth the effort.
In this culture where we can naturally spend a lot of time hanging out and chatting, we have decided to find a story that we could learn and memorise. We are about half way through and so far we have a guy who was travelling between two cities here but was set upon by thieves, all his stuff taken and badly beaten up. Someone has just approached him - a religious Christian - but I don't think they are going to do anything for him because they don't want to get their hands dirty. I think I can see someone else on the horizon who might help...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
20 February 2014
A rum couple of weeks!
I attend a Moroccan wedding that is so utterly different from other weddings I've been to down here that I'm nigh on scandalised to see the bride
1) smiling
2) in public
3) with the groom
I recreate the fresh cream Belgian bun experience for Sarah who has come out to see me for a week and with whom I share many a fresh cream Belgian bun story
Hannah decides to mutate into a cat with limited success
I meet a waitress who screams when I speak to her in Arabic (not as common as you'd think!), tells me she likes me, exchanges numbers, invites me to meet her family and have Friday couscous, shows me the family goats and offers me one when the next kids are born! A doe is currently pregnant. I cuddle a baby goat who sighs deeply and falls asleep on my neck.
I turn 42 and celebrate this milestone in maturity by horsing around in the desert with palm branches.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
1) smiling
2) in public
3) with the groom
I recreate the fresh cream Belgian bun experience for Sarah who has come out to see me for a week and with whom I share many a fresh cream Belgian bun story
Hannah decides to mutate into a cat with limited success
I meet a waitress who screams when I speak to her in Arabic (not as common as you'd think!), tells me she likes me, exchanges numbers, invites me to meet her family and have Friday couscous, shows me the family goats and offers me one when the next kids are born! A doe is currently pregnant. I cuddle a baby goat who sighs deeply and falls asleep on my neck.
I turn 42 and celebrate this milestone in maturity by horsing around in the desert with palm branches.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
1 February 2014
Little fish rooms!
With a raison d'être of upcycling things that are normally considered waste and finished with (spot the obvious parallels), I have been playing with bits of rubbish and making (I think) cute things;
Local style lounge with 'frash', cushions, Arabic newspaper and lamp shade made from petals and plastic bags.
Washroom / utility room with washing machine, clothes line with 'mlhfa' hanging out to dry and pegs made from a cork.
Kitchen with shopping list on a cork board, tagine, worktop double gas ring cooker and locally themed tile patterns on the back wall.
Bathroom with hand towel on wall ring, toilet rolls and a basin made from half a water bottle top
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Local style lounge with 'frash', cushions, Arabic newspaper and lamp shade made from petals and plastic bags.
Washroom / utility room with washing machine, clothes line with 'mlhfa' hanging out to dry and pegs made from a cork.
Kitchen with shopping list on a cork board, tagine, worktop double gas ring cooker and locally themed tile patterns on the back wall.
Bathroom with hand towel on wall ring, toilet rolls and a basin made from half a water bottle top
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
21 January 2014
20 January 2014
13 January 2014
Another wedding...
...another mlhfa (or 2)
A large wedding present (top left) and party central in a tent (bottom right)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
A large wedding present (top left) and party central in a tent (bottom right)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
7 January 2014
Bedford; the final throes
The day before leaving for the sand pit, I visited a new café in town that is about as atypical of Bedford High Street as 'Noble Rot' is of Tavistock Street.
It's called 'Coffee with Art'. Check out the wall;
If Pinterest was a café it would be this place
A beautifully designed space with paintings and photographs on the walls
A book theme to make any bibliophile weak at the knees and a refreshingly novel cake selection to keep an ADD gourmand indecisive
The pièce de resistance for me was a wildly eccentric installation at the far end that looks like books are exploding through the wall
I picked out one tiny book and found The Book of Common Prayer inscribed with 1916
This is the kind of place that you hope is so successful it stays for many years but conversely you hope not too many people get to hear about because its your hideout!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
It's called 'Coffee with Art'. Check out the wall;
If Pinterest was a café it would be this place
A beautifully designed space with paintings and photographs on the walls
A book theme to make any bibliophile weak at the knees and a refreshingly novel cake selection to keep an ADD gourmand indecisive
The pièce de resistance for me was a wildly eccentric installation at the far end that looks like books are exploding through the wall
I picked out one tiny book and found The Book of Common Prayer inscribed with 1916
This is the kind of place that you hope is so successful it stays for many years but conversely you hope not too many people get to hear about because its your hideout!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
21 December 2013
Reverse culture shock
I can't really claim to have been away long enough to be experiencing reverse culture shock. I have, however, been surprised at my heightened awareness of normal life experiences in the UK since returning;
Brushing my teeth with tap water
Overhearing people talking in English
Eating a meal with a fork, rather than fingers
Pavements you can walk on
Getting into a taxi with £2.40 already on the clock
Toilet paper as standard!!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Brushing my teeth with tap water
Overhearing people talking in English
Eating a meal with a fork, rather than fingers
Pavements you can walk on
Getting into a taxi with £2.40 already on the clock
Toilet paper as standard!!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Cereal nights
Everyone knows a bowl of cereal for dinner at quarter past eleven p.m cancels out a day of eating junk food, right?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
17 December 2013
Day 2 in town
The fox socks were reunited for two days in London!
We found more quirky joints to hang out, drink coffee, eat cake and chew the cud in Angel
Later we continued making a dent in the Christmas shopping (not at the Sainsbury's in the background!!)
then upped yesterday's wood pigeon and quail with elk in Kensington.
Not too shabby
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
We found more quirky joints to hang out, drink coffee, eat cake and chew the cud in Angel
Later we continued making a dent in the Christmas shopping (not at the Sainsbury's in the background!!)
then upped yesterday's wood pigeon and quail with elk in Kensington.
Not too shabby
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
16 December 2013
Down to the smoke
Cake I didn't have but looked spectacular.
Thank you Hummingbird Bakery, South Ken.
Then on to a place I've wanted to go to for years!!! MOMO!
I don't think it's too hard to see why
Fabulous lighting casting Moroccan patterns everywhere
Wood pigeon Pastilla (not had wood pigeon before)
And the Momo grill with another first; roast honey quail
Grand day out with Sarah :)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Thank you Hummingbird Bakery, South Ken.
Then on to a place I've wanted to go to for years!!! MOMO!
I don't think it's too hard to see why
Fabulous lighting casting Moroccan patterns everywhere
Wood pigeon Pastilla (not had wood pigeon before)
And the Momo grill with another first; roast honey quail
Grand day out with Sarah :)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
9 December 2013
Landmark moment!
I'm allowed into a local kitchen to cook!! This really is a special moment as I sit with one of my sisters preparing 'lardus' (lentils) and fish.
I prepped the lentil part of the meal with interjections about how to do it properly :)
Lentils, 'madness & kuspoor' (parsley & coriander), skingerbeer (ginger), kimown (cumin), bsla (onions), madisha (tomatoes), thm (garlic) bubbles away on a single ring gas bottle.
The fish steams with onion and potatoes and a salad is prepared.
Grated cucumber, peeled tomatoes...and we chatter away in a unique combination of French and Arabic!
Later I'm given the job of finishing off some embroidery she's never got round to finishing
I was given a typically Berber item to wear for the task!
Next I was taught how to make one of my favourite types of bread here; msmn.
Kneading in a traditional bread plate
Rolled into balls, flattened into pancakes, folded into squares then fried until they look like this;
The saucer on the left is amlou. A pretty good day in my book!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I prepped the lentil part of the meal with interjections about how to do it properly :)
Lentils, 'madness & kuspoor' (parsley & coriander), skingerbeer (ginger), kimown (cumin), bsla (onions), madisha (tomatoes), thm (garlic) bubbles away on a single ring gas bottle.
The fish steams with onion and potatoes and a salad is prepared.
Grated cucumber, peeled tomatoes...and we chatter away in a unique combination of French and Arabic!
Later I'm given the job of finishing off some embroidery she's never got round to finishing
I was given a typically Berber item to wear for the task!
Next I was taught how to make one of my favourite types of bread here; msmn.
Kneading in a traditional bread plate
Rolled into balls, flattened into pancakes, folded into squares then fried until they look like this;
The saucer on the left is amlou. A pretty good day in my book!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Deblij...
...which means 'bracelets'
I've been up cycling random objects and makin' pretty fings!
Looks like I may have a market in the next town (4hours away) with a friend who is opening a boutique
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I've been up cycling random objects and makin' pretty fings!
Looks like I may have a market in the next town (4hours away) with a friend who is opening a boutique
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
2 December 2013
Haima
Went out to buy dates and some thread.
Came back having wandered into an interesting looking shop, where i drew a picture and put a deposit down...
...on a tent. It will be ready on Friday!!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Came back having wandered into an interesting looking shop, where i drew a picture and put a deposit down...
...on a tent. It will be ready on Friday!!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
