A new day dawns in the ‘barrio’

Waking up in our neighbourhood, one can hear birds and bees and other country-like sounds, reminiscent of Grieg’s ‘Morning Sonata’. Usually there is a stray dog out in the campo barking into the wee hours and sometimes an entire canine choir joins in. Every so often one can discern the bleating of grazing sheep on…

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Meeting Almodóvar

Ever since we got to Spain I have seen Almodóvar everywhere. Not Pedro himself, mind you, but all the ‘Almodóvaresque’ characters that populate his films. They may be seen walking down most Spanish street for those who care to notice. Ronda does, at least on the surface, lack his most infamous characters; transvestites, whores and junkies,…

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Serving Foie Gras in the sky

Flying across the Atlantic, I saw a 75th anniversary video about Air Canada’s history. I decided that next time I’d see my mom, I would ask her about working as an air hostess in the 1950s, before the age of jet planes, charter flights and mass tourism. My mom was born in 1930, in a…

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Pinch my arm!

I was walking home last night, across Puente Nueve and into the Casco Viejo, the old part of town, between hundred-year-old stone houses, passing the old minaret, meandering through alleys where cars barely can pass, coming out through the old Arab city wall into Barrio de San Francisco, our new ‘hood’. I cannot believe we are here…

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The amorous Spanish fly

Of course we all have heard about the infamous Spanish fly, the aphrodisiac that became legendary in movies and folklore myth in this past century. It may seem like a dated form of Viagra to some, but I assure you that the Spanish fly is alive and well. It has come to our attention that…

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The rain in Spain…

Unless one is Professor Higgins, most people know Spain as a sunny place. In fact, millions upon millions of people from all over the planet (my clan, the Vikings rank highest on the list) travel to Spain every year exactly for that purpose, to bask and fry in the Spanish rays. Granted, that was the…

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Not a key to my name…

I met my first Hand of Fatima, or Hamsa as it is also called, 14 years ago when I was shopping at a lingerie store in the somewhat disreputable red-light-district of Amsterdam (accompanied by my toddler son, another thing he will tell his psychologist one day…) I asked the girl at the counter if I…

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Thank you and farewell to Vancouver

As immigrants, we are grateful to this city that gave us a safe heaven for so many years. There are so many things that we love about Vancouver. Here is a most incomplete list of our stars of Vancouver, in no apparent order: *Following the seasons at the Kitsilano Community garden *Going to Connie’s on…

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44 and counting…

It’s official. We are leaving. We depart Vancouver on November 2nd, as the eight-month-long West Coast ‘monsoon’ season reaches full force. We have pondered the idea of leaving for some years now, not knowing when or how. But in light of recent events and my husband reaching un certain âge, we felt that the time had come…

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