I felt a bit rude when I took this photo the other day. I just spotted these vulgar cakes in the window in a bakery in Malaga, so I popped my head in, took a picture and left. Quickly.

I thought they illustrated very well what Spanish cakes are generally like. Too much, is one way of describing them. Usually very large like the ones in the photo and just too much. They are too sweet, too fatty too boring and just not very tasty. There seems to be no finesse in Spanish cakes, just vulgarity.

El Hombre is getting a bit annoyed at me for insisting on buying and trying various Spanish cakes and confectionary in cafés, bakeries and shops. I arrive home excited thinking that this might be the one nice cake, only to usually get very disappointed because I do love my cakes and I do desperately want to find some nice ones in Spain.

France seems to have that sophistication when it comes to cakes, that doesn’t seem exist down here. I am desperate to go to Barcelona where I have never been. To see all the cultural highlights and try the food and cakes. I am getting quite sick of the food here in Malaga. I think it is boring and same samey. So when I do go one day, I will give you the verdict afterwards.

Oh…continuing my talk of dogs here in Spain, it is funny how many people comment on how large our dogs are. Our Labrador is a small female Labrador and our other dog is a slightly smaller Labrador mix. Maybe they seem larger and more dangerous to the Spanish as they are black and I have heard from someone that Spanish people consider it bad luck. Whether this is true or not, I am not sure of.
One of our neighbours was very surprised when I told her that yes; our dogs sleep inside the house. If she had known they often sleep on the sofa she’d probably have a heart attack.

I have a theory that the dogs recognise when people speak English or Spanish. They certainly seem to perch their ears when they hear English if we are out for a walk, knowing that these people are more likely to give them cuddles and be nice to them and I don’t know any nation more dog friendly than the British.

Now we have a baby I am sure our neighbours think we are nuts for still having the dogs in the house. But he adores the dogs and they adore him. Especially around feeding time when they congregate around his high-chair eager to snap up any bite that might get thrown to the floor. And it nothing comes their way, they might just nuzzle his hands a little bit in the hope that he drops whatever he is holding. What can I say…greedy Labradors!

That sounds so nice that German Christmas market in Europe Trotters blog. Just like in the films. I can really just imagine it, how you shuffle around from little shop to little shop with wonderful smells coming from everywhere, looking at home made Christmas presents.
Everyone should have the opportunity to go away for a weekend in December to experience this sort of thing. Maybe people would be more happy around Christmas then and not so stressed?

Three little piglets went to the market…and they all ended up in the freezer in a Spanish supermarket! These two pictures are from the Alcampo supermarket, but can generally be found in any Spanish supermarket. I know that this is what a little pig looks like and that when I eat pork it comes from a pig but still..it is a bit graphic. I’ll try to get some picture of the rabbits they sometimes have as well. Lying there de-skinned their eyes look huge and so does their front teeth and the skulls stand out. I had to look twice the first time I saw them to determine what animal it was.

In Spain you can find quite a few animal parts in the supermarkets that you don’t normally see in the UK unless you go to the butchers and, I dunno, ask specifically for them? Pigs trotters, snouts, ox tails, chicken necks etc. I think it is because it is a more rural country and it really isn’t that many years ago that a lot of people were extremely poor. So you use everything from the animal for sausages, stews and fry-ups just like we used to do in Britain.
As Britain got richer, people started only eating the nicer and choicer parts of the animals and maybe the same will happen here eventually.

I must admit if I buy some chicken I usually go for the chicken breast. I don’t buy a whole chicken and use all teh other parts for soup or paté or whatever you are supposed to do with them. And I am quite happy that there is no head on the pieces of meat that I buy as well.

Yes, I know I go on and on about all this Christmas stuff, but I really do enjoy Christmas and it is an important subject for me. So I thought I would do a bit of a comparison.

Weather
UK: Mostly wet and depressing weather in the winter, but there is that chance of snow.
Spain: Could be so so, or you might be lucky enough to be able to walk around in a t-shirt and enjoy the sun. This is obviously nice but not very Christmassy at all.

Decorations
UK: Lots of decorations everywhere, in every shop and on every corner. Can be a bit overwhelming.
Spain: Quite a few decorations, but they do it a bit differently. I have seen a fair amount of trees with a shooting star in the top of it. Everybody knows there is not supposed to be a shooting star at the top. Especially not one which threatens to topple the tree because it is so absolutely massive.

Snacks and sweet things
UK: Abundance of yummy things that I would like to eat!
Spain: Uhm..Turron (see picture) in its many many varieties. And I am not sure I like a single one. They also have some cookies called Polverones with Polvo meaning dust, and I tell you they are dusty. You bite into them and they kinda disintegrate into your mouth leaving you coughing and spluttering with all the dust going down the wrong way. Not nice.

What a nice Christmas we had yesterday. First a lazy morning tidying up and eating some leftovers for breakfast (I love warm food for breakfast…) and in the early afternoon we went to the house of some of our friends in the village as they had invited us over to celebrate Christmas with them..

I went over about half an hour before El Rubio and El Hombre as El Rubio just kept sleeping and sleeping. I think all this holidaying has played havoc with his sleep rhythm, but I didn’t want to wake him up. So I went over a bit earlier as we were late (it was literally just around the corner from us) and El Hombre followed when Rubio woke up.

And what a feast. I am so impressed with what they managed to stuff into that little oven of theirs. Turkey, roast potatoes, carrots and parsnips and a pie. Quite an organisational nightmare cooking that much food in a little kitchen.
For dessert we had home made cheesecake which was absolutely gorgeous! So we definitely have something to live up to for when they come over for dinner at ours some day.

El Rubio was having a great time crawling around everywhere. He is starting to want to walk more with you holding his hands, but mostly he prefers crawling because it is much faster and he decides where to go himself. Out friends have 4 cats so we spent the whole afternoon and evening crawling after one, then the other again and again.  

So when it came to his bedtime (we had brought over a travel cot) he didn’t give in until he was absolutely exhausted. I can’t blame him though as all the cats were in the room looking at him, so it was far to much fun to look back at them. A really nice Christmas.

Today it is Christmas day. It is never quite the same here in Spain.

I think most people will feel that a real Christmas is a Christmas that resemble the happy memories they have of Christmas as a child and then try to re-create that each year. Ok, obviously providing there are happy memories.
If all your childhood memories of Christmas were shit, this might give you a chance to create a completely new kind of tradition which is just yours as Christmas is Spain for me even after all these years still doesn’t feel like a real Christmas.

First of all Christmas is not as big here as in the UK. You see, the real deal in Spain takes place on January 6th when the 3 kings come and hand out presents to the children. Los Reyes - The Kings the call it. So when the highlight of Christmas is not until January, they don’t start the whole decoration and general shenanigans until much later that Britain. I mean, I can sometimes get well into December before you start to notice Christmas around you. Which is good in the way that you don’t get utterly sick of it come mid December, but for me it also means that I am still warming up to the fact that Christmas is coming soon when suddenly it has been and gone.

It is nice that you are not bombarded with Christmas, but a little bit more wouldn’t hurt. Of course I live in a village down south in Spain and I don’t really know what it might be like in say, Madrid or Barcelona. It could be completely different. Le t me know if you live there and have celebrated Christmas there as well.

On reading this post, I would never have thought of being careful with my mobile that way. But hey, I often actually get surprised that nobody has nicked my wallet yet. I always forget to close my handbag, so I just lies there ready to be taken. Maybe I’ve got some good karma coming my way since I’ve been so lucky so far.

After reading this I must say I agree. We just got a Christmas card from our bank. And from a credit card company. And I expect a few more to be in the post from various companies like our internet service provider, Movistar - our mobile phone provider etc. etc.

I would rather they spend the money on something worthwhile rather than receiving a card. We all know our bank doesn’t really care anyway, they just want our money.

Today Santa Claus came to the nursery. All the parents had been asked in advance to bring a small present to their child so Santa could hand them out.

It was fun and absolute chaos!

The main room for all the kids is rather small, so everywhere were kids and parents stood up and sat down on little children’s chairs. One mother even fell off the kiddie chair as they were so small. Since El Rubio has only just started going recently it was nice to see some of the other parents, but I didn’t get much of a chance to introduce myself with the noise and kids everywhere.

Besides El Rubio there are 2 other kids with foreign parents. One whose parents are English and one whose mum is English and father Spanish. Not all the parents could come (it took place at 12 o’clock so a lot would have been working) so I ended up with other kids in my arms now and then as there was tears and tantrums.

Then Santa Claus arrived (behind the beard was one of the women who works in the nursery). And even though the kids had been prepared for the moment the whole week, the fact that a guy with a big beard would come, most of them were terrified.

Almost all of them started crying when they went to sit on his lap to get their present. El Rubio was a little bit too small to really get the whole thing, so he didn’t cry he just didn’t want to sit there on this strange persons lap.

After we left I felt my whole head was ringing as the noise levels were so loud! No wonder he is a bit knackered coming home from nursery some days.

You must admit it is pretty damn nice where I live. We have had some of those cold and crispy clear days, perfect for going on a walk. So on a walk we went with our two dogs, a Labrador and a Labrador mix.

People are funny up here in the campo, some of them really shit themselves when they see our two very friendly dogs pottering along.

I always joke that you can tell the difference between a foreigner’s dog and a dog owned by a Spanish person by throwing or pretending to throw a stone towards them.

The Spanish dog will shit itself and make a run for it and the foreigner’s dog will think”Great. Someone to play with.” and pick up the stone and come to you. I know it is a generalisation, but hey, if we can’t generalise how is it possible to explain anything?

Their general attitude towards dogs here in the campo is quite different to in the larger cities. Firstly, the only dogs you see as “pets” in the village a various small dogs, I guess the large ones are too scary or only associated with being a type of working dog as they keep them out in the campo. If they do not hunt with them, then I am not sure what they do do with them. They just seem to be tied up, or in a dog house or allowed roam on the land, but never really loved or taken care of. I always wonder why on earth they have the dog, as they seem so disinterested. Maybe just so they can say they have one? It really is a mystery to me and a sad one at that.

It has been raining quite a bit lately. I don’t actually mind when it rains down here unless I had a specific plan to do something which cannot be done when it’s raining or I have a leak.

I think it is a nice change and it does remind me of living at home. Sitting inside in front of the warm fireplace with a cup of tea or hot chocolate listening to the weather outside.

My wellies get some use now as well. I actually imported wellingtons to Spain as I found the only ones I could get were those long green ones. You know the prober farmer/fishermen type of boots.

When I am out walking the dogs in the rain with my all weather coat and my wellies I do get some looks. Spanish people don’t tend to dress appropriately for the weather in the winter. At least not down here in Southern Spain. Unless you have to work outside all day, people seem to think that an umbrella will suffice just fine.

I disagree. You will not see me in high heels walking down the steep village streets when the rain is hammering down creating little rivers in the street. To me that’s just plain stupid.

And when El Rubio gets older I will be right out there with him jumping in the poodles..

Poor poor me. I’ve had a nasty affair with the flu for 4 days. Cannot remember the last time I was properly ill like that, must be years ago.

It got better in general when I moved to Spain, but I am guessing that now El Rubio has started daycare (yes, I found an ok one and he has started. Completely forgotten to write about that. It is going well so far.) I expect there will be a lot more colds and flus coming my way.

So the bed mostly and the sofa a little bit has been my friend. I couldn’t even watch TV as it was too bright and noisy. Just give me a dark room and a hot water bottle. And Lemsip. Lots of  lemsip.  It is one of those things that brits abroad take with them. Unfortunately I was about to hurl after having had lemsip for 3 days and I was desperately trying to find out if someone in the village might have blackcurrant flavour as I had had more than enough of lemon.

No luck in other flavours, but someone had them as tablets rather than sachets, so that did the trick. And more!
Because it seems there was also quite a lot of caffeine in them, so for 2 night in a row I have been unable to fall asleep but dead tired in the morning.

Anyways, I am all better now and just about to brave the rain to take the dogs out for one last walk before we go to bed.

On reading about this clever digital frame I just can’t get over how clever that is! Especially the part about it having it’s own email address. Can you imagine waking up in the morning only to see loads of pics from a friends birthday or similar now appearing on your wall. I want one!

And here comes second installment in Naranjas tourist information:

Ok, so let’s say that you are here on holiday. You have probably hired a car or you are just strolling around. You might find yourself lost or just looking for a specific place and will then have to ask for directions. A common occurrence for tourist and natives alike.

But you might have to use a bit of tact if you are asking for directions, especially if you are out in the more rural areas of Spain. Because even if Spain is part of Europe and we are in the year 2007 there is still a fair amount of illiteracy present. Mostly amongst the old of course, but some of them are not that old.

And for them it will be a bit embarrassing if you stick them a piece of paper with an address on it and ask where it is, as they will of course not understand it. Which might just lead them to give you directions made out of the blue in order to save face and not have to admit that they cannot read the note.

So if possible ask rather than giving a piece of paper with an address if you encounter an elderly person.

This of course mean that they have to understand your dodgy Spanish though…:)