The most important letters

One of the most important letters in the English dictionary for me is the letter 'R'. The second most important letter, is 'R'.

Although I'm sure you understand and appreciate the expression Rest and Recouperation allow me to fully explain how important this act is.

As those of you who read this most likely all know me rather well, you'll understand I'm never a person to be in a rush. I don't feel the need to panic over things and it's not like I'm going to be trying to fit too much into my day. However from time to time things, simply get too much.

Many people I know are a lot busier than myself, they thrive on being busy and in many ways this is why I think my friendship with these people works so well because I am quite the opposite.

So when a full day has arrived these people will have planned it out step by step and know where they have to be and what they have to be doing at certain times. If these people book too much to fill in for that day, or if someone asks a favour (quite often usually me) this may completely throw off the balance they've had planned for the day by trying to fit this extra thing in.

I find these people are the ones who need some R+R more than anybody else but they are the ones who just can't seem to do it.

Myself, I hardly ever need R+R because I never fill up my day with things to do, some may call it lazy, I... tend to agree but sometimes I do have times where I do certain things out of character.

I can occasionally be impulsive and this, well this is a good thing I feel but can sometimes lead to bad things happening. Over Christmas I went home and it was fantastic, when I got back I got straight into work for a week, I then went to Madrid, and the moment I came home from Madrid began working while deciding to go to Germany the following month. I worked everyday between Madrid and Germany and while both these trips were very enjoyable, travelling is not always the most relaxing thing to do as you want to see things, do stuff and live to the fullest while you've got that time away. Upon my return from Germany I began working again.

Granted my work load rarely consists of over about 4 hours however without a real day off, this lifestyle can get quite draining, add to the fact that as part of this job there is almost an expectation to show your face at the evening's social events (that's my excuse anyway), the candle can turn into nothing rather quickly if it's burnt at both ends.

R+R the two most important letters, not only does it give you time to chill out but it gives you time to evaluate your relationships with others, your lifestyle choices and more ultimately what you can do to improve yourself around others.

Ciao for Now

Something stupid

When you take a risk are you supposed to way up the pros and cons or do what feels right from the gut?

That risk could be life threatening, love threatening or even career threatening, but at the same time do you really want to be thinking what if?

Game time decisions can sometimes come back to haunt you however you will never know the other outcome for no matter how long you live because, well, you didn't do it.

To play it safe is to go through life plodding along with nothing to make your life... worth it. If you were to take no risks by the time you are on your death bed would you look back on it and say 'that was an awesome ride' or would it sound more like 'that was pleasant'.

Quite frankly I'd prefer the former which is why I think it's important to take risks. Are they scary? Sure. Might you fail? Of course. Is it better to stay at home living in a bubble and read books for the rest of your life with gloves on in case of a paper cut? Don't be so stupid.

Life is for living, if you make a mistake, the mistake has been made. Mistakes are not regrets and you can't take it back so learn from it, appreciate it and then when that black hooded figure comes knocking on the door to your house on life street, maybe you'll be happy to shut the door and leave the key.

Still though... maybe I shouldn't do it?

An important apology

Dear Readers

Recently this blog has taken a new theme with looking at other cultures and seeing what makes them, them. I previously released two of these blogs; one of them being about the Czech people and another about the Spanish.

In these blogs my intention was to write an open account of a first perception of each of these cultures without any type of filter or censorship. That's the bonus of having an open blog on the internet, and while I knew some of the comments may have been controversial I never intended on them being offensive.

This hasn't been the case, and I feel upset about the fact that I may have offended certain people, not only of that culture but some dear friends.

So for this I apologise and I have removed the original posts. While I do intend on continuing to write about cultures, I will aim in future to take a more positive and careful approach.

Once again I am sorry if any of my previous posts have offended anyone, and I hope you do continue to read about some of the crap I enjoy writing.

Yours Sincerely

Huw Hopkins

GERMANY!!!

List: Germany

• 'I spy with my little eye something beginning with G.'
• If a you choose to hit and humiliate instead of talk, you are a coward. Simple as.
• 'I now dub thee Ruth Dora-Archer the Scapegoat'
• Some people can just drive.
• 'As one does.'
• Two women navigating can occasionally produce positive results.
• Banana beer is just straight up awesome.
• Having no credit, no internet and no way to contact some people would suck if there were no long term solution.
• Germans are not Nazis
• It's important to get checked.

Full blog on Germany coming to computer screen near you soon.

Confusing Forks

A poor mans fork only has two prongs, but say you have one pea on your plate, which one do you use to pick it up?

It's confusing, it's annoying, and really you knew that it would come down to that final pea all along.

You choose to do it with the one on the left and it squeezes away, for some reason it should have always been the other prong.

Luckily I am not ultimately poor, but that leaves you with more prongs, more options, more confusion, and way more annoying results.

Una Mas Fiesta - 30/1/10

After writing yesterdays post we were happy watching Spanish game shows and playing silly puzzles but David insisted we go out for a coffee and a walk through Azequeca. We agreed and figured we may as well enjoy the village on our last night.

We only got 1 block from David’s house when he bumped into his brother’s friend’s father. He was the father of a Toredor – a trained bull fighter. After being invited into his home Ruth and I began watching SpongeBob Squarepants – in Spanish and all of a sudden we were told to put our jackets back on a moved us into a car. Without any explanation as to where we are going my mind started racing – perhaps he would dress me and Ruth up as bulls and get his son to kill us. But I was being rather dramatic. We travelled a little way outside the village and arrived at this very traditional bar just outside. Beers were ordered along with some amazing Tapas. There was choizo (which by now I had fallen quite in love with), chicken, bread topped with some cheesy, veggie concoction, potatoes, ear of pig, a type of black pudding and so much more. The food was fantastic and we were then given a traditional Spanish alcoholic beverage to ease the food down (with ice of course). We were then given a refreshing, minty shot of something that totally brought us to life and made me and Ruth begin to feel quite drunk.

As we left; David’s brother’s friend’s father insisted we pay for nothing and they invited us back to theirs. We reluctantly accepted after much insistence but this proved to be a good thing.

In a Toredor’s home it is traditional to have a basment to act as a trophy room in which said Tordor can sit in before his contest to gain inspiration. We were taken down and the basement was incredible.It had been completely done out as a bar, a really professional, place where I’d like to drink regularly kind of bar. It was dolled up to the nines with pictures of his son in action, horns from bulls he had previously killed, several fridges chock o’block full of traditional Spanish beer, wonderful trinkets and mugs from all over Spain and the piece-de resistance a rack about 10 bottles high and 20 wide of vintage wines.

We were offered drinks left, right and centre from this extremely proud father, including wine that was a smooth as syrup and taste of silk, straight out of one of his many barrels.

While they spoke no English and our Spanish not being much better we were assured – through David – that they were extremely proud to have us in their home and the father insisted on giving us a vintage bottle from his personal cellar and to avoid mine and Ruth’s embarrassment, David didn’t share us the details of how much it would cost a normal human being. It was the perfect souvineir and a perfect ending to a truly interesting holiday.

Or at least that’s what we thought.

The following day started like most of the others – set the alarm for 9, woke up at 11. We packed everything up and into the car not forgetting our vintage wine, then Ruth and I made our way into the village centre.

We wanted tobuy some flowers for David’s mother for providing us with such great hospitality.

Upon our return we got in the car made our way in the opposite direction to the airport. By now we had learnt not to question our travel destination. We were taken to David’s grandparents where we met up with what felt like his entire family, meanwhile knowing for a fact that it wasn’t half. We were given a three course meal and shown through family photo alnums – clearly family is sacred here in Spain. We eventually said our final goodbyes and made our to the airport where I’m writing this saying my final goodbye to this part of the journal.

Madrid, finally - 29/1/10

So yesterday David had to spend it revising which allowed me and Ruth to have our own little adventure in Madrid. Before then we hadn’t really seen the city but that would change today.

We caught the train in and arrived about 11. The lady at the station gave us a map and circled some buildings and told us where certain ones are we had our eye on. The only thing we had to go see was the Reina Sofia as they had an exhibition on surrealism, cubism and this building held the masterpiece that is the Goernica.

But before all that we had to see the rest of the cty and we decided to at first head to Plaza Mayor.

In comparison to Prague – Madrid is huge, like ginormous, its expanse is ridiculous. So when me and Ruth started walking we figured it would take a while but we forgot that Prague – is tiny.

Where it would take you ten minutes to get anywhere in Prague this walk was about half an hour, which, as it turns out, is not that long.

We walked through the archway past Plaza Santa Cruz and this huge area opened up to us.

The sun had caused a beautiful shadow over half the square so coffee houses in the sunny area were all buzzing – not busy though. El Casa Mayor had some beautiful murials painted in to the architecture and there was a lone state on horseback sitting right in the centre. There was a single saxaphone player, playing music that filled this massive enclosed square so we decided to indulge in a little Spanish breakfast, chocolate and churros.

The most important thing about Spain is no the rush, because no one else is. We waited for half an hour for the churros to come and then relaxed for another 20 minutes after we finished. When we did decide to make a move the next stop was going to be the Royal Palace. To tour the palace itself cost about 8€ so we decided against that andwent to check out the cathedral while we were there. Once you’ve seen one Catholic Cathedral in Europe you’ve seen them all. Catedral de Ntra. Sra. De la Almundena was different though. This seemed to be more modern than usual, as if it had been re-done by some 20^th Cneture artist, and this may have been the case.

The entire building seemed to form the shape of a cross with most of it looking very traditional at first glance but when taking a closer inspection, we see that the stained glass windows are almost cubist in their design and the celing looks like a tasteful 60’s acid trip, adding flare to a building that in most cities are in danger of boring their followers. It was clearly still active though as we saw a live confession taking place.

We decided to see the Royal Gardens or Jardin de Sabitini. The patterns in the bushes were shaped like mazes and each fountain we saw was as impreseive (if not moreso) than the one before.

We meandered our way through the mazes and briefly saw Parque del Oeste, before realising we’d been going for nearly 3 hours. It was coffee time and we decided to go to the café in the Royal Palace for an overpriced we even managed to sneak in the main courtyard to see what was around after that. The Royal Café was to expensive to get food in as well so we decided to have a makeshift picnic.

We stopped at a 24 hour shop to get some bread, cheese, chorizo, fruit and crisps. Top it all off with a little Sangria and we have a meal fit for Kings. We decided to eat to eat in Prague del Retiro in front of the lake on the steps of Monumento a Algonso XII.

The sky was blue, not a cloud in the sky just the warmth of the sun beaming down on our faces. This day was turning out to be the best ever. We also managed to find an English paper and enjoyed a good hour’s R+R.

That reluctant feeling to move from your bed in the morning usually means you have to get up. This feeling had dawned upon us but we decided to head over to the other side of the lake and ease our terribly hectic day back into action by bobbing along the lake on a boat for a bit.

The time had now reached half five and we needed to start make a move to complete our only set task for the day of heading to the art museum.

We began to mosey our way out of the park and head back to where we first started. We’d managed to do a complete circle walk as the museum was just next door to the train station. Along the way we noticed several book stalls exiting the park. Similar to ones you find in Paris. They were all second hand books and magazines with the majority of them in Spanish but Ruth found an old French art magazine that she loved and insisted on buying as well as a ‘history of flying’ book that her Dad would have loved – had it been in English.

Finally it was time to make our way to the museum, just after a quick coffee – you’d be a fool to head into a museum without one in your system. So we grabbed a quick espresso and at 7 made it across the street to Centro de Arte Reina Sofia.

After 7 it was free and this worked well for us so we began walking through the main exhibitions. I saw a wonderful video of Buster Keaton and Patsy Cline called ‘Another Perfect Day’. I also spent time reading letters and notes from Pablo Picasso as well as plenty of his work. I made my way to the Salvador Dali exhibition where I encountered a new found respect for him and learned to really appreciate his work but it was time to join Ruth in the main Picasso showcase.

It’s prefix was called ‘Europe at War’ and it took you through the Spanish Civil Wars, the World Wars and expanded your mind into what you were about to see. The exhibit also began showing you slives of the final piece in it’s original drafts – seceral heads of mothers crying, horses dying, severed arms until you turned into the final room to experience the Goernica.

The piece covered most of the wall and potrayed the horror of war in Picasso’s popular Cubist style. Ruth had already been showing at it for 15 minutes but I joined for another ten and I had to consciously close my jaw at least twice. To try and describe this work would do it a disservice, just believe me when I say, it has to be seen.

We slowly began being ushered out and proceeded as we knew the day had barely begun, not in Spain at least. We brought a quick Burger King and caught the train back to David’s by about 22.15. We had barely walked through the door when we were being pushed back out because tonight was a fiesta.

While walking back to the train station David’s friend saw us and stopped, he was driving so took us back into Madrid.

Me and Ruth had one final tourist moment when we stopped to have a few drunks outside the Bernabeu, Real Madrid’s football stadium. As massive building and very impressive but it was no Millennium Stadium.

We then proceeded to the club known as ‘Lemon’ and after 20 mins of waiting in line to enter and a further 45 wasted in failing to get a drink, myself and Ruth left feeling that we had wasted 10€.

We went next door to a bar that may as well be British and felt much more at home. After a few beers, and games of pool, we decided to try ‘Lemon’ again.

It was a bit more successful then our previous attempt and the night got back on track. Ruth and I were both taught to dance-Latin style and we kept going til gone six. Which of course meant we got back to David’s at 8. We went straight to bed and didn’t wake up until 5.

CHECK IT OUT, MOTHER FUCKER

We got up at 7o’clock… Scratch that. I got up at 7 o clock, Ruth got up at 7.45 and had a cup of coffe, in order to catch the 9.20 train in Madrid. Naturally, we missed it so wandered around Atocha train station which quite frankly could have been an airport because Ruth was still so tired she needed her second coffee of the day.

The renfa train was waiting so we made our way to Check in – again what train station has check in?

Apparently it would take half an hour to get Toledo but unfortunately their commitment to punctuality had been suspended for reasons outside their control.

Upon arrival we had to make plans to meet up with a friend of David’s so we stopped in a small bar and order a coffee just to use the phone, Ruth’s third.

None of his friends would be available for a few hours so we decided to wander around for a few hours.

There seems to be a theme to this city and that is that you don’t really know what to expect when you turn a corner. The buildings are all relatively tall and the streets are extremely narrow, so even if there is a Cathederal on the next street over you can’t see it until you walk halfway ip that street,

12.30 rolled around and so did our stomachs. We stoped at a beautiful old building overlooking on of the main bridges.

A 3 Course meal for ten euros was the Menu de la Casa including beer wine and coffee. David’s friends met us here and we agreed to meet up later and he’d show us around town. Post meal we crossed the bridge again and tackled the feat of over 200 stepsat a 35-40· angle that was never ending only to reveal that there was a lift available once we’d reached the top. There was a the reward of an amazing view however of which no painting, picture r words could truly describe.

The entire city has meshed together the beauty of Moorish Architecture with modern buildings seamlessly, achieving this through the we of similar colour schemes agreeing to the laws of the land.

This is what separates this from other amazing cities. With Prague; you can stand on one square and see 6 or 7 different styles of architecture just by turning 360· but none of the styles mesh. With Toledo it’s almost like the people who built the original buildings knew what the city would look like over 1000 years later.

David’s friend Henry met us when we decided to stop for a beer and he told us about some of the more important buildings to see. He even showed us some and it soon became obvious that he partly owned a Segway guiding company. Henry told us about an amazing view that only University students ever got to see as they didn’t let tourists know so we took our own tour up there. More amazing views and another coffee – Ruth’s 5^th!

We decided to head back to Henry’s, stopping at a shop on the way for some alcohol. We wouldn’t tear it up tonight but instead share a few drinks and a nice meal with our new Spanish clients Beds were then set up in the living room and alarms were set for another early start to see more of this amazing city.

11.40am – Only just now waking up; fresh, but nearly 3 hours after the agreed time. We found out that this would be somewhat of a Godsend though.

We finally got moving about 1ish and Henry showed us around some more, he also told us about some buildings that would be free to enter at about 4.

We decided to say our thanks and goodbyes to Henry and have some food to wait for this time.

The first place to see was a church we’d been refused from the previous day. Iglesia de Sto Tone. A truly beautiful place that got me thinking about why many churches (thankfully not in Britain) feel the need to charge you upon entry. Fortunately we arrived at the time and day of the week where it was free for two hours - but to attract people to religion, why charge them for the opportunity? This place was cool though mainly becuasethe back room was a shrine to bones from certain Saints.

Thenext stop was El Sunagogu de Transista. This confused me even more about religion as a whole. It was a Synagogue and these are for Jewih people yeah? Ot looked exactly the same as the Catholic Church. Now I’ve been in both churches and Synagogues before and noticed the similarities before but it makes you think that for the 1000’s of years of oppression both these religions have given each other over very small differences in what they believe – its hard to wrap my head around.

The third place proves this point completely. Quite frankly I have never cared if someone is religious or not. I am personal not but I am envious of thos with faith on times because in dark times they can look to whoever they believe in for answers or trust and guidance. Santa Maria Blanca is a Catholic Synagogue. And no you didn’t misread that.

At the age of 31 a gentleman called Abraham was told by God that he should become a Catholic even though he was Jewish. He didn’t want to turn his back on his religion however so he combined the two. The place he set this up in was perfect for it. It was originally a Synagogue between the 12^th and 15^th centuries but then changed to a church up until the 18^th Century when it became a stable.

Then a few years ago Abraham started his religious fusion here and it is mainly a museum at the moment with an exhibition of art by Abraham which told the story of the evolution of the religion and the building we were in, we were lucky enough to meet the man himself and some of his entourage.

The final place we went was probably the most pretigious of all the buildings. Monasterio de San Juan de los Reyes is the biggest church in Toledo and often gets mistaken for the Cathedral. There was a beautiful courtyard of a Jardin del las Flores and the main church building was enormous. It has seen the marriages of famous football playuesr over the years and had some beautiful work added to it as recently as 1983.

We then proceeded to a coffee house and made the mad dash to the train situation to begin our journey home.

Toledo – Check it out Mother Fucker

Seeing the City we came to see - sort of - 26/1/10

Yesterday after a day of typical Spanish procrastination and missed dentists appointments – 4.30 rolled around and we decided we needed to do something. We had done shit all in six hours.

We caught he train to Atocha, a tram stop in el centro. We immediately grabbed a coffee as the after effects of David’s re-scheduled dentist appointment had left him drowsy. Heve to say it may have been the best damn coffee ever, Stabucks ain’t got shit on that place.

After a brief rejuvination it was time to sight see, this would be tough due to the fact that now it had turned dark, but it would offer a different view of some of the city’s monuments. Par exemple; a smaller version of the Brandenburg Gate, the king’s personal gardens, a beautiful palace structure that looks over a lake as well as a Chinese sculpted Monte Manufaktura and the beautiful waterfall that goes with it.

Spanish people seem to be health nuts. If someone isn’t running or cycling then they are keeping fit while rollerblading through the city, this is awesome and puts the British people to shame as the rare jogger you see at home is either doing it as a last resort because they are to fat or training for the London arathon. I suppose some of the beauty in this city makes puffing and panting a little more tolerable.

Saying that =- with all the major statues, monuments or buildings it seems slightly harder to appreciate them when they stick a a giant highway in front of them making them harder to get to, or even photoraph.

We made our way to a pub to grab something to eat and a beer. This beer was awesome – unfortunately I didn’t catch it’s name though, so next time I take it, it’ll have to be by chance. We also ordered some Tortillas, Patatas Bravas and crisps – talk about potato overload. But it was nice; the patatas Bravas (or potatoes for the brave) came in an amazing curry sauce and these were especially good.

After settling up we made our way back. We attempted to rent a car so we could make our way to Toledo the next day but settled on a train ticket instead.

When we finally made it home there was a nice surprise of some homecooked Tortillas with chorizo in. D-Licious.