In Practice, Production on February 14, 2011 at 9:30 am
They have been there since the middle of January. I pass them each day as I walk up the main street on my way to the bus stop. On a corner outside a bar and on the corner opposite as if the same intersection is used by arrangement every year.
I’ve only been in that bar once, when I was new here at the tail end of last summer. It looked intriguing to me in a shabby, down to earth way. Ugly but lively. I ordered a beer and scanned the bar for evidence of anything edible.
I didn’t go again. For want of tapas and a friendly reception I took my one man show (eating, drinking, staring into the middle distance…) on a tour of Tarifa‘s many other bars till K arrived and we settled on a few favourites. Still, I’ve passed by often and seen very decent raciones getting dished out. More
In Practice, Production on December 3, 2010 at 10:59 am
I had wondered why such generous concrete boundaries had been afforded the little more-or-less-dry river bed that winds along in front of the English school.
Now I know.
I’m standing beneath the nearby bridge in my socks and underwear. It’s raining, hard and heavy; water gushes all around me – the whole world it seems is a waterfall today. I’ve found a sheltered and slightly raised patch of pathway and make damp footprints on it with my socks. The artificial riverbank is being tested and has burst in some places.
Before anyone calls social services, I had to duck in under here to get out of my sodden jeans and to put on a dry pair of trousers. Why? More
In Plenary, Practice on November 5, 2010 at 11:24 am
A week of opposing elements.
We celebrate K’s first week at work in Gibraltar and we lose the lagomorph.
We are hurting so we go to Tangiers, thirty five minutes away on the Moroccan coast, to distract ourselves. We feel like curling up under a duvet, so we force ourselves out there to explore.
Tangiers has always seemed an exotic, far away location to me. Now it’s our nearest city bar Algeciras. Still exotic though. A former colonial outpost that has seen better days – it is just my cup of (mint) tea.
The narrow streets of Tarifa are precursed here More
In Plenary, Practice, Presentation on October 29, 2010 at 8:07 am
It began as it ends, with Africa.
K’s words as we walk away from the little grave. We have chosen a spot high in the hills overlooking Tarifa, the Gibraltar Straits and the African coast. There’s only the one road into Tarifa so this way we will pass her every day, and can say Hi. She won’t be alone.
A few years ago K got a notion to go to Africa and travel overland from Nairobi to Cape Town. It was important to her to get out there and do something for herself that took her outside her comfort zone and to see something of the non-European world. It may partially have been a response to my own travel experiences, which I had possibly mentioned once or twice. More
In Plenary on October 25, 2010 at 11:43 pm
…doesn’t arrive on the two pallets that are left, after a bit of pushing and shoving, outside our front door on one of the narrow laneways of Tarifa‘s casco antiguo. We drive two hours to get it from the cargo terminal at Malaga airport. The terminal isn’t what we expect – it isn’t well signposted for a start and when we get there it looks like a warehouse. No “customer” area or seating. No indication of where to go.
We ask some questions and eventually find ourselves in front of a clerk with fluent English – an exact reproduction in fact of the blue collar home counties accent. He helpfully informs us that he has nothing matching our dispatch number. More
In Practice, Production on October 21, 2010 at 8:24 am
Box No.1: Lady shoes.
Box No.2: There is a place in life for experiment and a place for conservatism, and when it comes to crockery I let conservatism guide me. Squareness, ovalness, multicolouredness – these are all plate-diminishing qualities. The perfect plate is three things; large, round and white. This isn’t a trivial matter – a plate is the frame for one’s food. If I had my way there wouldn’t be a plate at Casa Alotofwind that wasn’t large, round and white. And so it is that I find myself unpacking our dark blue plates. The ones with the gold trim. Well, at least they’re round.
Box No.3: Lady shoes. More
In Plenary on September 11, 2010 at 10:44 am
It’s all I can do not to leave my mouth open as I sit here and grin at the cinema. I order a beer and some fried fish, if only to justify my behaviour. This is my favourite place. It may not always be, and just a couple of weeks ago I had neither seen nor heard of it but this little plaza right here, right now, is my favourite place.
It’s one of a number of little squares in this part of town, laid out like a coiled string of beads. As with the others it would appear to have multiple names. The names are displayed on multiple ceramic plaques placed one above the other on a wall in the corner, as if the vested interests that come along and rename things have here lacked the ruthlessness required to erase the past; so this square which is called San Hiscio is also, apparently, called Plaza De Perulero. More
In Practice on September 3, 2010 at 6:25 pm
We’ve spoken about to-do lists already here at alotofwind.com. There are worse places to work your way through one than Tarifa in the province of Cadiz. The more attentive amongst you will have had a glimpse of our new home town by now at the photoblog. The rest of you, and you know who you are, may want to take a look now and update yourselves.
The first week has been one long to-do list. I’m talking bureaucracy. More
In Plenary on August 20, 2010 at 9:38 am
The clock is ticking, the sands of time…you get the point. The fact that we’ll be apart for a while has become real enough for us to stop talking about it – we’re just getting on with the things that need doing. I have landed myself a part time internship just up the road from Tarifa in Algeciras, starting September.
I hadn’t hoped to have a job before I’d even got there, but then I hadn’t factored in the miracle of the internet or more specifically, of Skype. I don’t work for them and this isn’t product placement, but seriously. Big up to Skype. Nuff respeck, or whatever it is. More
In Presentation on July 19, 2010 at 2:16 pm
This blog was going to be called “rabbit”.
Because to get to Tarifa we won’t be hopping on a plane with a couple of bags and without a worry in the world – one of our challenges is the safe and orderly relocation of one overweight bunny from County Kildare to southern Andalucia. Overweight and not always in the best of moods.
This of course turns a relatively simple move into a bit of a logistical nightmare. We’re into “one of us will have to be here to ship and the other over there to receive” territory. The bunny will have to be boarded and shipped by approved carriers – we’ve already tormented our chosen provider with a hundred odd emails. Very odd emails. More