under another sun

Lorraine and I heard the upsetting news today that Andros had died. An email from Sophie, saying that the funeral would be held next Tuesday. I shall of course be going to it, although as it is the first day back at school, as headteacher Lorraine won't be able to. Otherwise we had a lazy day today.  When we eventually crawled out of bed, we sauntered down for  breakfast in the Salon du té. It was our hottest day so far, and the super stylish manageress, who seems to have taken a liking to Lorraine, gave us a plate of baklava sweetened with honey. Delicious stuff.  We did not seek out museums or art galleries today, but decided to get our travel sorted and mooched up to the station and bought tickets (remarkably easily by simply explaining in Spanish that I didn't have Spanish) for Saturday. The timings for the journey are going to be tight however. Instead after a walk we spent lots of time basking by the pool, reading and unwinding. Then another evening walk in the heat,

Lorraine and I just going into Holiday mode today, and loving not feeling pressured to do anything much. Back to the Salon du Té for breakfast. We were not bothered by it being overcast and cool (for Spain) for most of the day. To the Cordoba Archaeological and Ethnographic Museum , and plenty of interesting history inside, and a beautiful museum. They seem to have invested lots in their museums and galleries, and places of historical interest. Of course this makes sense, as it is something that attracts people to Cordoba in the first place. Investing in the arts makes financial sense. Anyway, we looked with interest at the objects, then in the basement of the building was the remains of a roman amphitheater. Out next and we had coffee served by a surly waiter in the cafe in the nearby square, before heading back to the hotel. Lorraine and I still braved the pool, reluctant to leave even when it started raining in the afternoon. The water was cold but I still managed a couple of swim

Mooching around the old town this morning, and popped into three galleries today. The Museo del Bellas Artes, had some strong work.Across the courtyard was a museum dedicated to the work of Julio Romero de Torres Museum. I didn't know de Torres work before now, and my two favourite pictures by him were actually in the Museo del Bellas Artes, one of them featuring a woman with a face like thunder, with a title that translated as love sick. de Torres was, we learned, obsessed with Flamenco and many of the featured famous singers, dancers and musicians of his time. Apparently the temperature here is much cooler than usual at this time of year, which makes it warm and perfect for us lily-livered brits. After these two galleries, we crossed the Guardaquivir river to the Museum of Modern Art. This was an enormous space, which isn't properly open yet. There were about three works or art in it. An olive tree with labels to tie your wishes by Yoko Ono by the entrance and another piec

Lorraine and I decided to try the hotel breakfast this morning.  It was excellent if a bit pricey, but it was a buffet of cooked breakfasts, and all the coffee you could drink, which turns out to be quite a bit if you put your mind to it. Off today to the mind-blowing experience of the Mezquita. It is a huge mosque, which has, which, after the reconquest of Spain, had a lofty cathedral built inside it, and it became a Christian building. The Cathedral part seems full of bling, and crowded and bright. What you notice in the Cathedral is the faces, and the representations of Christ, Mary and God and so on. My two favourite things there were a painting of the annunciation and the mihrab, which was one of the most spellbinding things I have ever seen in my life. After this excitement, we headed back to the hotel to sit by the pool and chill out, and enjoy a cold beer. In the evening, during our walk I suddenly had the idea of eating pizza, and Lorraine gamely agreed on a pizza hunt.

A great night's sleep. A big comfortable bed, and fabulous not to have to get up early. Spent much of the day exploring the old town. Back to the Salon du Té where we had an Andalusian breakfast, of omelette, olives, hummus drizzled with olive oil and a sprig of mint, lightly toasted bread, and a bowl of strangely delicious chopped tomatoes.  Mooched about town. Passing the Mesquita, which we are going into tomorrow. However not before Lorraine was harassed by gypsy women selling rosemary. Saw a few people buying from them. At one point we were in a square watching a sparrow (there are many sparrows here) attacking a cricket which is not something you see every day. I snapped Lorraine against a background of bougainvillea.  In the evening we walked across a bridge and back to the Roman bridge near the Mesquita. Early bats and late swallows zooming about in the sky under the full moon. All rather lovely. Below a gate into a patio, one of the entrances into the garden of t

Up at three like zombies. Cats confused. Into the car, and Lorraine driving us in the dark to Gatwick. The airport very busy at that time of day. Luckily the French air controllers strike didn't affect our 5:50am flight to Seville. Sleasy Jet not quite as cramped as last time. Poor Lorraine stuck between me, looking twitchily out of the window, and a nervously talkative farmer. The flight was fine, but I felt tense and weird and fuzzy as I had taken a diazepam. Landed in Seville, which proved to be an easy to use airport. We caught an airport bus to the Santa Justa station. We managed to buy tickets to Cordoba in Spanglish, and some warm chicken and bacon baguettes in the station, which we ate hungrily with a couple of cokes. Three ticket checks before we were able to get onto the platform, and our cases had to go through airport style security scanners. The coaches were confusingly labelled. Several people including ourselves were ousted from their seats, by people taking their

Lorraine's last day today, then all the packing to be done, and general tying up of loose ends. I wanted also to get a couple of poems sent off, but I had no printer ink. Off to Argos then, and back, before I could print anything. Chatting to Sonia, and then packing bits of my case. We are going to travel light, which means I won't be taking my computer. Lorraine home late, and we went to the Preston Park Tavern cheerfully for food and a quick drink before returning home to finish packing, and going to bed with our alarms set for a repugnant 3 o'clock.

Last day at the agency today. They are uncertain if I'll be needed after I come back. So I left the office not quite with a song on my lips, but with the sensation of having been released back into the wild, but on good terms. Tired, and very happy to be going home to get organised. Lorraine only has one more day.

Conflicting messages about whether they'll need me beyond this week. Either way is fine, but knowing what is about to happen is obviously preferable. Greatly looking forward to our holiday now. Another long walk at lunchtime, the lunch break walks are keeping me sane, and meaning I make my 10k paces easily every day. Off even further down the canal today. It feels harder and harder to turn back towards the office instead of simply carrying on. Below reached Wedlake Street on the Paddington Arm of the Grand Union Canal today, which had the interesting view as below. Also snapped green foliage reflected in office window glass, and this sign as I walked back home from Brighton station.

Not much work to be done, and what there was, slightly directionless. However it became clear that I would at least work until Thursday, (i.e. my four day week). Have the sense that things may be drawing to a close as the agency's workflow is a bit slow. Concentrating on having nice walks at lunchtime, going further along the canal than before. I was rewarded by finding a stretch garden bordered by  wall covered in tiles and what seemed to be historical inscriptions. An older man, who had been tending the trimmed trees, made his way back into one of the houses, and I think it must be one of those ongoing slightly obsessive art projects. The evening good fun. Off to the Marquis, in Bloomsbury where I met some old agency muckers for a few drinks. Great to catch up with gossip in general, and with these folks in particular. Keith back working where he and I did a stint this time last year. Pat in town on various bits of business, Noyala now MD of the agency in Tavistock Square, an

New train timetable, so the train I caught was cramped, with standing room only from my stop and no elbow room to type. A long walk at lunch, where I spoke to Mum who had been gardening and sauntered by the canals. What is it about water, even a dirty old canal, that is calming to me? Water of any sort seems to be a natural tranquilliser. This afternoon I was told it might be a two-day week for me. A tad galling having paid for a week's travel, I did have a verbal agreement to be working with them till mid July, so I have asked for clarification. Either way is good. Home, reading  Fidelity , the collection of short stories by Canadian writer Michael Redhill that Innis had lent me. Good stuff, and nicely ambiguous endings.  Home, and Lorraine had just arrived, needing a glass of wine for various headteacher reasons. Reuben sent me a joke today: two goldfish go into a bar, and the barman says, 'why the long faeces?'

Strangely hungover this morning. Lorraine however, awake early, and brought me a cup of tea in my footballer's mug. Very slow to get up. I made fried tomatoes on toast and brought back to bed. Then eventually up, and doing what Lorraine called paperwork, which was chiefly scowling at computer screens. Drove into town to collect money for our Cordoba adventure which will start on Saturday. Be nice to go to Spain. I've been to Portugal, and to Barcelona once for a gruelling stag weekend. But I'm looking forward to it. Home again, and armed with Euros. Then Lorraine and I sauntered through a few open houses. A gorgeous sunny but not too hot day. Fewer houses open than usual. Saw one painting that was fairly good of the side of Tate Modern, and some amazing embroidery by Agnes Chevalier the embroiderer I'd bought some work from once for a present for Lorraine. Lorraine bought some gifts for people at school, and then we zoomed home. Beth came by for dinner and a chat.

Lorraine up early today, to give Beth a lift back from the station to her flat and then to work. I got up and sought out my Chelsea socks, and tinkered with poems for a while. Breakfast later, and then found myself watching the Royal Wedding. Found myself drawn into the pomp and enjoying the acknowledgement of black people in it. Spotting Camilla - look it's Jane! Lorraine particularly enjoyed a fiery speech by an American preacher Michael Curry. I still say off with their heads though, although the Brits do market themselves as a heritage industry quite well. After this Dawn came around, and had a cheeky cup of tea and a catch up with us. Nice to see her. Then off to Anton's house for some food (home made wings with woof woof sauce, pulled pork and some lovely salads and so on). And the FA Cup final between Chelsea and Manchester United. It was a dire game but Chelsea won it, with a penalty scored by the best player on the park guv'nor, Chelsea's Belgian maestro Ed

Up early and working hard on the French stuff straight away all morning. My pals there said they loved what I had done, which always makes you feel good and valued. A fast early sandwich and watched Lorraine (the morning TV show starring Lorraine Kelly) and today's episode featured royal lookalikes. Spotted Jane of course. There was an item at the end of the program where some designer had suggested what clothes the royals should be wearing. Jane was modelling clothes on TV, which is something new to add to her list of accomplishments. Had done and dusted by two o'clock. A chat with Sonia about something she'd read in the home country about worms that burrow in people's eyes having visited Africa, and then I walked over to Hove to see Janet and Ken. Scored some hazelnut brownies en route. Nice to chat with them.  Janet always so full of ideas. Ken looking well too. Back home and a quick discussion with Clem who is going to re-deck our back garden, with excellent sta

A day of solid work, but from home. Still feeling somewhat tired and underpowered, but took two short walks plus an hour's walk at lunchtime to do my paces. Working on an interesting, but challenging brief but from the comfort of my own home, so I can think. Luxury. Spoke to Janet today, whose birthday it had been yesterday. She got the flowers we sent. Her sister Ann who I had met,  had died last week in Canada after a long illness. A beautiful day, and at lunchtime I walked up to Hollingbury and through the backstreets home. Views towards the downs and to the sea. Lovely blue sky and fresh air. I've missed working in Brighton. Below a path by white flowers of cow parsley and a may tree into the sky. And a snap from our kitchen window.

Feeling somewhat unwell, tired and grouchy this morning. And as there was little for me to do in Paddington, I was released back into the wild at lunchtime for the rest of the week. This might have been a bit galling, however, it worked out very well as it allows me to do the much more interesting work for mes amis français  on ebola, of which by coincidence there has been another outbreak this week. Gleeful about not travelling in tomorrow. Lorraine out with Beth tonight, and I was happy to lay low quietly. I even snuck around the corner to buy fish and chips as I couldn't be bothered to prepare food.

A busy Tuesday.  Trying to tinker with poems this morning, but my brain not joining the dots properly. No lunchtime walk, instead I had sushi to eat in payment for presenting to one of the nicer clients, the presentation went well, and I nodded and tried to radiate my enthusiasm at the right times. This being done, the agency was scratting up for work for me, and I found myself proofreading German documents about drugs. Sub-optimal given my inability to speak German. Still, it is work, and I can recognise the difference in shapes of words. Bah. Bolted work as soon as possible. Found out I did not a winner one of the poetry pamphlet competitions I entered, which came as no surprise, as the collection was hastily assembled. The far stronger collection has not yet been ruled out yet. Left work late. Texts with Keith and planning a meet up with him and Pat next week. Walked back from Brighton station, where Lorraine was already home and putting together a stir fry. Happy to be home, thou

An alien ginger cat broke into the house last night resulting in a tremendously loud cat fight at around 4:30. Lorraine sprang up. I dragged myself out of bed eventually, and saw a ginger cat bolting out of the house. It must have made it in through the microchip catflap hot on Brian's tail A fitful doze. Both up early, and Lorraine spilling things inside the fridge and then spilling soya milk over my trousers. Lorraine dropped me off in time for the 7:17 into London. Bumped into my old art director Mike, who I dubbed 'the gnome' on this blog when I was trying to keep everyone anonymous. Good to see him, and we were able to have a chat on the tube. Mike looks unchanged, despite it being ages since we spoke. Work okay, though it seemed I was about to be released back into the wild for the week, but some work was found, and I ended up working through lunch (only ten minutes' lunchtime walk,  chiz) and left work a bit late. Heard from Sarah B who had sad news about her

Off to Folkestone today, via Ashford where we picked up Pat and Maureen and Ken. Enjoyed visiting Folkestone, where Lorraine had attended a sixth form college, and visited lots as a child. It is also part of my family lore too, with mum's grandparents living there when she was young, and lots of her summer holidays being spent there. We parked by the harbour, and I had haddock and chips (and mushy peas) in a harbourside fish and chip restaurant. Pat and Maureen ate huss. Lots of seafood around there. We strolled down to the beach with the arches, which I know Mum played in as a child. We saw three planes flying in formation, a spitfire, a hurricane and a twin engined plane I didn't recognise, even after Ken had used his amazing camera to get several shots of them in the air. Ken really throwing himself into photography with gusto and doing lots of experimental shots while we were there. A brief mooch about the old side of town, before Lorraine drove us back to Ashford, along