9AM in Madrid

Easter is over. We're back. Classes have restarted, not that my students have seemed to realise.

The week down in Andalucia was fantastic. It all began on Monday morning when the doubters were humbled. They said we couldn't rent a car. They said it would end in disaster, the car wouldn't fit us all in, the dates would be wrong we wouldn't get down to Monda. They were wrong. We were successful on all fronts. It was a six hour drive which proved the fact that the middle of Spain is basically deserted. Hours of farmland, with only tiny towns on the way; once you get to the coast suddenly there are millions of people, most of whom are British or German. I hear that it has been beautiful at home, the hottest on record. Well in Andalucia it didn't stop pissing it down. It rained and rained and rained. The first morning was merely gray and with true British grit we seized our beach window. We there for an hour and a half with about another dozen hearty British types soaking up the rays and enjoying all 12 degrees of heat. It was enough to bring a tear to your eye. Talking of Britishness we managed to see and hour of British television which was entirely dedicated to the Royal wedding. I'm really glad I won'ty be at home until it all blows over. I said the Spanish don't give a shit but thats not entirely true as it has been on Spanish TV every day and based on the one hour we saw I imagine it is unbearable, just get through it will all be over soon. I bet the queen has reminded Kate Middleton, "don't piss me off remember what happened to the last one". Saying that there were some great lines, my favourite being David Starkey saying "I'm gay I wouldn't know about that" when talking about royal virginity. I love you Starkey. I don't think my Grand Mother has ever recovered from finding out Starkey is gay, she would have left Grand Dad for Starkey in a second. We didn't let the rain stop us from having a beautiful walk in the mountains. It was stunning despite not being able to see very much, it looked like this:

It was a little eerie and at the top I was told that you should be able to see Marbella beneath you, you couldn't. Marbella is much nicer than you would expect by the way. I had images of lines of Irish bars and cafes serving full English breakfast but it wasn't at all. We managed a night out in the small village and found a club in full 1970's mode. The walls were covered in glitter, plastic plants and a fuck off massive disco ball. It looked like scar face. I'm not fly its fair to say that the people I was with are superfly but the rain soon puts an end to that. We headed out in anoraks which got as a lot of looks, none of which were welcome. There was bowling, a BBQ that burnt off eyebrows and swimming in a thunderstorm as if we were in a shitty Zac Braff film. It was awesome.

It got even better when I got back and the next day I met my parents who are here until early tomorrow morning. I said not liking the things that the other one likes was the key to keep a marriage alive. I need to clarify that. The key is to smile and say things like "lovely" "really nice" and "interesting" while not enjoying it. My mum smiled while enduring the Bernabeu and Dad made agreeing sounds while walking around the botanical garden. Look and learn kids. We visited the Prado, Il Rastro, Retiro park and even managed to find the worst resturaunt in Madrid/the world. Dad impressed everyone by managing to order wine in Spanish and Mum successfully navigated crossing Atocha roundabout which is easier said than done. So all in all it has been a success. I think they have enjoyed Madrid, they commented on the amount of traffic (theres a lot, thats true) and that people wear a lot of coats. It has been wonderful to see them both.

Real Madrid won a trophy. Despite barely being able to touch the ball for the entire second half and just having Barcelona pass around and around them for the entire time they managed to pull off a one nil win. They went crazy and then proceeded to come back to Madrid and drop the trophy under a bus. I'm not exaggerating, it's smashed to bits. Barcelona are here on Wednesday for the first leg of the Champions League, its going to be huge.

love love love x

Daddy Fat Sax

It's holiday time baby! Oh yeah! Thats how I reacted at half past two this afternoon. A little fist pumping and a small dance and I am out of here. One student wanted to ask a question in the last few minutes, it was hard to tell her no to her face. Last days before holidays are wonderful as no one wants or expects to do anything. With my teenagers we played film charades, Black Swan being a highlight. Though the last day is good the few before are strange. As the holiday drew nearer more and more people finished their classes and thus not coming to school anymore. By yesterday evening the school was basically deserted. I walked and no one was there. It was like a zombie movie. All I could see was my manager with his back to me at his computer and I just pictured him spinning around on his chair to reveal that he had become a walking member of the living dead. He did look that but that is only due to his new born child keeping him up all night.

On Monday, I'm heading down to Andalucia for the week. A friend's parents have a villa in small village called Monda. His hospitality and generousity has met with graditude and the rest of us putting on a posh voice and saying his family are like the royals. He must be glad he invited us. I'm not sure what's in Monda or what we will do but I was told that it is very likely that I will see a mountain goat in a tree. I can't understand it either but if I don't see a mountain goat in a tree I will be literally devastated and not Jamie Redknap literally either. I'm really looking forward to getting out of the city for a while. But the big easter event will of course be the parent Peirsons touching down in Madrid. A week today. It will be wonderful to see them I just hope the heat drops a bit or there will be some grumpy parents. I have no idea what we are going to do as they like polar opposite things; that's how you keep the flame alive kids. I think my dad needs a break as my sister is slowing killing him be allowing herself to be taken to Old Trafford by her boyfriend and then worse of all saying she "really enjoyed it". When she told me I virtually broke down. Pull the knife from my back Claire.

I can also relax while I'm away as I managed to successfully avoid being fired. My second official observation went well. Despite having to move to a new room which was so small that the observer was basically sitting on my lap. Fortunately she was sufficently behind me not to see the threats I was mouthing to the class whenever they started speaking Spanish.

Football, football, football. I talk about it far too much, then if you are reading this you know that. However this time its justified as the big news here is that there will be 4 el classicos in the space of 18 days. Its a chance for Barcelona to really rub Real Madrids nose in it. The first one is played RIGHT NOW and Barcelona are winning 1-0 and Real have been awful, saying that they have just scored. Saying Charlton are terrible never seems to help but there you go. I can hear the GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL coming from the TV, thats a serious set of lungs. But the biggest match of the weekend isn't Real vs Barca, oh no. It was our crack team that plays every Sunday taking on a Spanish team. That's right. National pride on the line, defending Queen and country. We finished our normal game and they came on and challenged us and we couldn't refuse. Played for 2 and 3/4 hours, my legs hurt so much. It was a slow start, dominating possession but not taking chances and falling 3- 0 behind. They looked pleased with themselves, I may speak limited Spanish but one thing I can do is swear like a trooper and I knew they didn't have a huge amount of time for us. But in the end, we overpowered them. I say we, I did very little. My biggest contributions were two rather "robust" challenges. One deeply cynical clip as he went past me and another crashing into the back of one of their players as he tried to turn. Welcome to British football. Nonetheless we won a crushing 15-6, a second half romp. Don't worry Liz, your honour is safe for another day.

Talking of the Royals are you excited about the wedding? Thankfully no one in Spain gives a shit. I bet you are at fever pitch by now.

love love love x

Our Colour Green

It's 30 degrees. 30 fucking degrees. 30 degrees CENTIGRADE. In April. It's hot and we're all irritable. Last week it was rainy and cold and then we just woke up and its 30 degrees. It's great when you are outside but in school it's awful. Turns out the air conditioning doesn't work. Also being by a big road means we have to keep the windows closed otherwise it's too noisy. The effect is to create a deer hunter-esque hot box. The students sit there getting more and more irratiable. They moan, I tell them there is nothing I can do and remind them that I'm English and thus finding worse than they are. As my shirt will attest. Easter is in the forefront of everyone's mind at the moment. Everyone, students included, can't wait for it. Everyone is tired and a little bored and needs a break. We teachers aren't made of stern stuff.

Talking of Easter. I'm an idiot. It's a well known and long established fact. I thought that it had been a while since I reminded everyone that I'm not just a run of the mill idiot but an A-grade, weapons grade idiot. This week I reasserted my credentials. It is the easter holiday soon (1 week, 1 week, 1 week, thank you God) and my parents are coming to visit. They arrive on Easter Saturday and leave early on the following Wednesday. I thought that the Easter weekend was the first weekend. The plan was to see off my parents on Wednesday and head down to Almeria with some guys from work until the second Saturday and then head back to Madrid for work on Monday. The problem is that the Easter weekend is the second weekend so I was due to be in Almeria when my parents arrived and I'm working on the Monday and Tuesday. It took me a long time to realise. Mum wasn't surprised when I told her, she expects this sort of thing. The guys here were more surprised. Forunately the plans fell through! Hurrah! As it now means the dates have changed and now I'll be back in Madrid for my parents arrival. One day being an idiot is going to get me in a lot more trouble and then maybe I'll learn a valuable lesson, but I doubt it.

I've just got back from playing football. Today was different from normal as it was like a scene from Bend it like Beckham. As you would expect from forward thinking guys like us that we normally have girl players too. No macho attitudes in our game. A new girl came to play today. It turns out she played college football or "soccer" back home in America. Which means she has played to a really high standard and certianly a standard higher than the rest of us. She had a brilliant touch and a fearsome shot. You could tell she had played to a high standard as she asked us at the start if it was ok for her to play in her prefered position of right wing. Positions?? I think you overestimate us. She soon learnt that in true British style our style of football resembles a bum rush. You get the ball and instantly eight people run at you in a scene reminiscent of the film Zulu. It's like being 11 again when you played football on a full sized pitch with a full sized ball and then you hoof and run.

The dreaded day also arrived. When you start learning Spanish you are told that one day, when you least expect it, you will meet the Subjunctive. It is spoken about in hushed tones in dark corners of smoky bars. No one knows where it comes from or what it does but as Erin so apatly described it, it will haunt you for your entire time here. No one can quite put your finger on why the fucking thing is so difficult, it just is. It's even hard to pin down its function. It is not a tense, it does not reflect time, but mood. It's about what you hope, what you want and what you don't and I'm still in the dark about why its different from the normal sentences but its one of those things that getting it wrong will make Spanish people scrunch their face in pain. It was one of those classes when you just want to put down your pen and ask what were you people thinking when you came up with this?? It's been a culturally Spanish week as I had my first "botellon". Botellon is described as central to the laid back nature of young people in Madrid. It's important everyone does it and to experience Madrid you need to too. It's drinking in the street. The Spanish are clever, what in England is a slightly frowned upon activity and nothing classy the Spanish have given it a name and called it cultural. Genius. It was great fun though, hundreds of people gather in a sqaure its warm and everyone drinks and messes about. It was all very good natured and at one point a German brass band appeared and played versions of popular songs from the hit parade. Including a fantastic version of I Was Made For Loving You. I was in my element.

I hope that you are well, to say that in Spanish I would need the subjunctive, no I don't know how. I can say the next bit in Spanish though

love love love (amor amor amor) x

The Sights of Madrid #2

Real Madrid are big, big, news in Madrid. The biggest selling newspaper in Spain is Marca. It's a sports paper but everyone knows its a Real paper. Big, BIG news. Whenever they play in the week I can rely on having a lot less students. As they have a Champions League game on Tuesday night (I refuse to acknowledge their opposition) I'm looking forward to a nice easy class.

The stadium is named after Santiago Bernabeu, a former chairman who turned Real Madrid from the second best team in Madrid to the most successful in Europe. He was also a prominent fascist but more on that later. It is an incredible stadium. It's right in the middle to the commercial district, it just emerges from nowhere. Strangely they have a flag from every club in the league flying from the roof, they all still fucking hate you. I've been on the tour and its even more impressive inside, its huge, staggeringly huge. Just when I'm warming to them a little the pomp kicks in and it reminds you just how smug they are. Obviously the main reason I feel like that is that I'm jealous and childish, am I supposed to be impressed by your nine European Championships? Charlton have never, and never will, qualify for the tournament. What a lot of people don't realise is that Real Madrid and Barcelona are not football clubs, they are sports clubs, football is just the most prominent part. So once you have been told that Real were voted team of the century by FIFA, after you've seen the vast number of trophies trophies and you've seen the pictures of some of the best players in football history in their Real shirts, you have to go through the other sports. They are also relentlessly successful in those too, most notably in basketball.

You may have noticed I'm not a huge Real fan. Its not all jealously. I have the same problems I have with them as I do Man Utd. The arrogance, the lack of perspective, the smugness, the reflected glory, the lack of humility, a lot of them know nothing about football and most importantly the HUGE sense of entitlement. Real got beaten at home last night by a midtable side, Sporting Gijon. Did they not know who they were playing? This team came and wanted to win! And they did! How dare they? However the main reason I and lots of people don't like them is the reason mentioned earlier, fascism.

There is a long and clear link between Real Madrid and fascism. The stadium is named after one after all. General Franco was a big Real fan and helped his team whenever he could. Using influence to get players, including Di Stefano the man player who made Madrid the team they are. The most striking incident being a cup game against Barcelona when soldiers went into the Barcelona dressing room and said that it would be in their best interests to lose. They did. Barcelona overstate the influence and the current team are obviously not fascists but it still leaves a nasty taste. Especially as there is a group of fans called the Ultra Surs who are still horribly racist and violent.

Luckily I live in an Atletico part of town. I like Atletico they used to be the biggest team in Madrid and they have a pathological hatred of Real. Unfortunately for them they haven't beaten them since 1999. Real fans joke that Atletico really love them as its a guarenteed six points and Atletico have a very good record against Barcelona. There's a reason Atletico's club anthem is You Can't Always Get What You Want.

love love love x