All the 4s 44

Well here I am after a long break writing this blog on quite an auspicious day. Although I am 44, I tend to see myself as 50 minus 6... I know that sounds pessimistic but I can't help it. That big 50 is looming and even though I feel as if I am in my early twenties, I have to remind myself that I am twice that! Last week, during creative arts week, I was teaching lots of little ones how to bollywood dance; after 5 days of jigging up and down and changing the light bulb whilst patting my imaginary dog, my knees began to cave in and I almost felt like my mother does... desperately needing a knee replacement ... unlike Shakira, my hips were definitely lying!

Although most of my spare cash, after feeding my four cats, goes on anti-wrinkle creams, I am not frightened of getting older... I just hope I have whatever Joan Collins and Jane Fonda have... the secret of looking amazing and being fit. Will I be able to make a keep fit video like them?

I look back now at my 44 years and thank god for every blessing I have had. Fantastic parents...Thanks to my dad for my beautiful and apt name: those of you who know me, know I am truly a shy girl! Also for making me the driven person that I am ... always aspiring to achieve and realise my ambitions. Thank you to my mum who is the strongest rock on this earth... you have inspired me to be a loving, caring and generous mother and to cherish the wonderful life that I have.

I sometimes feel like I am a flower on a beautiful plant and alongside me are three other beautiful flowers... without whom my life would be so empty and lacking. I have been so lucky to have three amazing sisters all of whom are angels. Together we are Ramila's Angels. Thanks girls for all the amazing times we have had. Love you always.

I am also blessed with the most amazing in-laws. In fact saying in-laws does not feel right because, to me they are my family and I love them truly. Mum is not with us now but I feel she surrounds us in an amazingly spiritual way... I thank her from the bottom of my heart for teaching me great surti cooking; for instilling in me a sense of unprecedented generosity to all that enter my life: she was truly a role model. Thanks for dad for being dad... kind and so committed to faith. Thanks to my wonderful bhai and bhabhi who are like big brother and sister to me and thanks to Seetu and Hiren (and now Aileen) who have made me feel so special... I love you all.


Although I cannot mention everyone, I need to say a big I love you my nieces and nephews; you know who you are... thank you making me laugh and smile.

Coming to Spain, meant saying goodbye to one world and entering another. Those early days were lonely and I knew no-one but then slowly but surely, my little God, sent me some amazing guardian angels who have made me feel that I belong here: Rene, Pauline and Massimo to name a few... thank you for your love and friendship. I particularly must mention Pilar and Pepe... the two people who look after me and are there for me, Ketan, Krisha and of course my cats... Gracias por todo... os quiero mucho y para siempre!

But this blog would be incomplete if I did not mention two very special people who make my life complete and make me the person that I am today: Ketan and Krish: You are for me, my everything: If I have nothing but your love and your presence in my life, I will be happy. As my beautiful friend Pilar calls him Santo Ketan: he is truly a Saint and the man should be given an award for putting up with me and especially my snoring after I have had a few vinos rosados. Thank you for your eternal love: you are my Shah Jehan, my Romeo and my Amitabh, I will always be your Mumtaz, Juliet and Jaya (Badhuri) hahaha!!!

Krish no matter how far away you are physically, you are always in my heart. You have no idea how proud I am of you. You have quietly persevered and climbed mountains and reached summits and although your adventures have only just begun, in my eyes you have become a true explorer and I hope and pray that you have a life time of learning and never forget that it is not the destination that is important but the journey... enjoy and cherish the moments. Thank you for being the best daughter and friend a mother could ask for... hand on heart You are simply the best!

So if anyone is reading this and has got as far as this paragraph and you happen to be near a bottle of something wet and intoxicating, please pour some in a glass and raise it to toast Life! 44 years and here's to the next 44 and more!

Breakfast with a Surprise!

Over the last few weeks we had travelled through the Alpujarras and Andalucia without any premeditated plans and had been fortunate enough to find accommodation at every port we called at. Amazing considering that it was the height of the season and we hoped that the second leg of our journey would be as fortunate. We drove out of Cadiz, heading eastwards towards Malaga, along the Costa Del Sol. We were unsure where our next watering hole would be but excited about finding yet another pleasant surprise. Even now as I look back, this drive was endless and torturous at times. For some reason, we could not seem to find somewhere to stop... we just kept going and going. We had set out during the daylight hours and suddenly something was missing... Oh Yes, it was that feature that Spain is so famous for, The SUN!! All I could see were the stars and a big bright moon. We were hungry and tired and needed to stop. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, we found what looked by an extended house come restaurant come service station. Our Spanish was as good as our Russian... but with the help of my amazing face expressions, animal sounds and sign language, we managed to order a vegetarian meal. I had explained in my best stressed Spanglish that we did not want any sort of carne (meat) or Pescado (fish) nada nada nada... nothing at all; simply vegetables, cheese and eggs were ok. As the food came out, our eyes lit up and our stomachs jumped with joy at the thought of being fed at last; but as each plate was placed in front of us by a smiling satisfied looking waiter, our hope took a massive plunge into the depths of despair... the plate of chips was immaculately garnished with bacon, the fried eggs were twinned with bacon, the vegetables had bits of bacon... we looked at each other, doomed. I had covered all the possible animal expressions that I could to say no meat but had forgotten to snort like a pig and of course, they had assumed pig meat would be fine and had generously covered all our dishes with it. Initially we tried to eat the bits not touching the meat but we could smell the bacon and it was impossible... eventually we surrendered, defeated and exhausted, we paid the bill... the waiter looked dismayed at the plates of uneaten food... and we dragged ourselves to the car once more. We would drive to the next town and hope to find a hotel where we would simply collapse.

We drove and drove and stopped at town after town... where we asked at hotel after hotel if there were vacancies but every where we went the answer was no... I thought of Joseph and Mary and how they got turned away from all the inns and taverns... but it wasn´t Christmas... surely we would be luckier? By this time it was past midnight and most of the reception areas of these small family run hotels were closing down... slowly but surely our luck was running out and finally we had to accept that there was no room at any inn for the Gandhis. What would we do? where would we sleep? We had ended up in a small town called Estepona. It was too dark to really tell what it was like and we were too tired to really care. Ketan looked at us and said "We will have to park up somewhere and sleep in the car tonight, hopefully tomorrow we can book into a hotel". Krisha had already fallen a sleep and we stretched her out in the back and propped her head on a plump rucksack and kissed her "nite nite". Ketan drove into an open air car park outside a nightclub where there was lots of lively activity. "It will be noisy for a while but it is safer here", he said. He parked the car and we reclined our seats as far as they would go and closed our eyes. Ketan dropped off quickly and Krish was fast asleep oblivious to our whereabouts but for a while, I could not sleep at all. I watched people going in and out of the night club like bees buzzing around a nectar filled plant: I was anxious that someone might harm us or what if Krish was abducted while we were fast asleep... but gradually, somnia pushed my eyelids down like a heavy weight pressing down a thin sheet of paper and I drifted off into another world.

As the day broke, we stirred and awoke to another day of glorious sunshine. We decided to drive down into the town to find a coffee shop to have some breakfast. It was early and everything was still shut so finally we ended up at a petrol station where I could smell the rich warm aroma of coffee beans and freshly baked bread. We got three huge hot croissants and comforting coffee and juice for Krish and we drove down towards the shore. Estepona was right on the coast and the beaches looked like silver dust and the sea looked calm and collected...despite the rough night, we were happy and ready to tuck into our meat free breakfast. I had never experienced such tranquility and this was probably one of the best breakfasts we had ever had... the three of us, looking out to sea, eating hot croissants and supping real coffee made with real beans. Just as things could not have got any better, we heard the pitter patter of feet, and saw a very fit, athletic man running on the beach along side the sea... We all watched him in awe and thought how disciplined he looked... suddenly without any warning, he ripped off his Lycra shorts and with absolutely nothing on he sprinted into the sea... "Oh, Oh!!!" I shrilled "Cover Krish's eyes up... she will be scarred for life"... We did not know whether to laugh or cry but as fast as he could, Ketan started the engine and drove away. I looked back at the man bobbing up and down in the water... and thought... "brave man... that water must be freezing...he obviously has the balls!" I smiled and thought how I would never forget our Breakfast in Estepona.

The Icing on Our Cake

The last few weeks have gone by so fast and I have wanted to cherish every moment of our time with Krish before she intrepidly ventures forth in that big wide world... I am so excited for her but at the same time gutted that she is leaving us, moving forward but without us... until now we have shared so much with her and virtually everything we have done, we have experienced it together but now it will be others you share her dreams and we will undoubtedly become spectators, with possibly the rare cameo appearances at special events. I wish I could have a special Life I-Player which enables me to replay all those fantastic moments of her childhood: the annual birthday parties with clowns and character cakes. Every year, the birthday party would be a major project to organise... my sister Alka would be enrolled as the party planner and we would decide what this year's feature would be: one year we had the party in the local village hall with a mad magician and lots of smelly egg mayo sandwiches; another year it was a bouncy castle in our back garden, with a chocolate caterpillar cake, which went down a treat. As she grew older the parties disappeared only to be replaced by insomniac sleepovers when the entire house would be swamped by friends and if we stayed we would be banished to our bedroom for 24 hours with no access to any other part of our home... so of course we would disappear to a local restaurant until we knew it was safe to return. In more recent years, she would go out with her best friends for a meal followed by cocktails in their favourite Moroccan style bar with golden globes, and deep, rich red resting places with comfy cushions eastern embroidered. Symbolically, like a pivotal turning point, this year, her 18th birthday brought friends and family together to celebrate a key milestone ... excited that she had grown up into a beautiful human being and proud of her achievements to date and already anticipating those yet to come...simultaneously there was a sadness as we said goodbye to our little girl and our cosy family set up. Next year when she is in Beijing, it will be the first time when she celebrates her birthday without us... I wonder curiously what this will be like for her and for us... I for one will raise a glass of champers at 12.30pm on 14th March 2011 and say thank you Krish for being the icing on our cake.

Krisha Kay Ketan Gandhi - The First 18 years

I have decided to take a diversion from my normal blog and write a little something about someone really special. She entered our lives on the 14th March 1992 at 12.30pm whilst I was lying prostrate on my back, screaming at Ketan, one of my specialisms, and grabbing his hand so tight he was crying, a rare moment when I just wish I had had the camera on me! She arrived to the sound of music on Radio One and the first thing the midwife said was "My God I have never seen a baby with so much hair!". No matter how much pain had been endured by me, with all those contractions, and by Ketan, who was probably down to 8 fingers, this was the happiest moment of our lives... we had created something so beautiful together. The nurse smiled and handed Ketan our first and only child, a beautiful baby girl with a mop of ebony black hair, congratulating us. We had no words but words were insufficient and unnecessary at this moment... we simply cried tears of happiness and smiled at this bundle of perfection. Then the nurse apologetically took the baby away and placed her in a cot on the other side of the room. Whisking Ketan away for a few minutes, she said to me "If baby cries, don´t worry, don´t get up, just leave her alone... you are fragile!" As they left the room, I lay back... all the pain had gone... I could not feel anything and I simply thought of our creation, our work of art... I already missed her and wanted her in my arms. Suddenly, she started to cry, no not cry... wail like an abandoned orphan... I could not ignore it... that maternal instinct, that every woman must have programmed within her, kicked in and I leapt out of bed and ran to pick her up... not noticing the blood gushing down my legs... "Oh my god!" I thought "The midwife is going to kill me!". I didn´t care, as long as I knew that my baby was alright.

Since that day, everything changed and for Ketan and I, this special delivery became the centre of our universe. Where the last eighteen years have disappeared, only god alone knows and if we could do it all over again, we absolutely would.

We named her Krisha Kay Ketan Gandhi. Like many Hindus we were given a number of letters from the Gujerati alphabet of which we chose the letter which sounds like K in the English alphabet. Krisha was an idea that her dad came up with. There was a radio presenter on the local Red Rose radio station called Krisha and also Ketan felt that it had K from his name and Sha from mine so and ideal combination. Later we found out that it was a Polish name meaning little boat...now I look back and think how apt for someone whose dream it is to travel the world; Kay was after my very good friend at the time...and I liked it because it was short and sweet; and like most Indians, we decided to also give her her fathers name so her initials were an unforgettable KKK Gandhi.

Krisha is the first grandchild on my side of the family and for my late dad, she was his pride and joy. He was so besotted by having a granddaughter and like all excellent granddads he spoilt her rotten. He bought her bunches of green grapes which she loved and any other fruit or food she enjoyed. I wish he was here to see her all grown up. Krisha has been blessed with a great extended family...also cherished by her granddad in Preston too. It won´t be the same not having the daily phone calls from Meera and Ravi... wanting homework help, chat girls gossip (that´s with Meera of course!) or talk footy!

Krish is undoubtedly a daddy´s girl and I don´t mind at all because it is a joy to see the fantastic relationship she has with her dad... They are so alike in many ways and they connect like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Sometimes when they talk about footy, it is annoying as I am a dunce when it comes to this overstated game but deep down inside I am quite impressed at their knowledge of players and the all the latest gossip about which team has bought or sold which player for the so many trillions of pounds. I love it when they both kick the ball around outside the house and I hear their shouting and laughing. Krish's love for footy, especially Liverpool, and great taste in players, has now got me hooked too... I loved the Real Madrid match we took her to some years back just so she could watch Mr Beckham... and it was worth it! It was crazy watching the World Cup this year... we screamed at the TV as Spain got closer and closer to becoming the champions of the world and when they did we ran through the streets of Alicante with the Spanish flag and she got me to drive around the city, beeping my horn until it and I were both exhausted... it was an unforgettable night.

The last nearly six years in Spain have been amazing. They have been quality years where the two of us have become closer. Now I almost feel like she is my fifth sister as we chat about music and she helps me download songs legally of course onto my IPOD. She is fantastically technical and if she can´t do it, she knows a very clever Russian that can... Max!!! I will so miss all of Krish´s friends... I have loved having them over... the house feels alive when Krish has had her sleep overs... OK the Kitchen is raided and her room looks like a war zone but it is a sign of life and I can´t imagine the house without these regular friendly invasions. I´ll miss cooking curries for her friend Jordan (alias my adopted son) and I´ll miss taking her and Emma to local shopping centres... ohhh and even though it didn´t happen very often, we'll miss waiting up for her at dawn when she rolls in from a Spanish night out!!!

I won´t forget our recent trip to London to see Beyonce in concert and I so hope we still get to see Alicia Keys together one day. I have loved our holidays to Spain, Turkey, Africa, America, Canada and of course India to name a few... Looking forward to visit her in the far east next year.

Krish has made us so proud over the last 18 years...and pride isn't simply based on academic achievements but more than anything about being the kind and caring human being that she is. I missed out on her early childhood development because of my own career ambitions but the last 6 years have enabled me to be there... at parents evenings, at awards nights and at other major events. I remember one parents evening her teacher said "What I love about Krish is that she is so compassionate": I was so proud of her because this is a beautiful quality to have and not always used to describe a teenager. It has been a joy to see Krish grow up into a caring and thoughtful adult who constantly thinks of others, especially those less fortunate than her. Krish's close friends will know that she loves baking and often has baked goodies for charity bake sales, helping to raise much needed funds for local projects. Over the last few years, she has become passionate about fund-raising and being instrumental in her school´s fund-raising committee. Every year I go to awards night and I am one of many proud mums as I watch Krish receive an award but this year I am sure I can safely say that I was the proudest mum in the audience as Krish stood smartly on the podium as Head Girl and beautifully delivered an opening speech with Head Boy, Sam. I was even prouder as she received three awards including the COBIS award for Excellence... I was like a Cheshire cat, smiling all night and wanting to jump for joy. I only wished her dad had been there to share the moment with us.

Well here we are: 11th August 2010 and in less than a week's time, our baby will be jetting off to the start of a new and independent life in Beijing. It's not sunk in yet and probably won't for some time but inside my stomach, I feel like I have thousands of butterflies all fluttering about madly as if they are high on ginseng. I have tried not to think too much about the actual departure as I start to well up but I know it's going to be an emotional time... I know that 17th August 2010 will be a turning point in all our lives as we kiss our baby goodbye and watch her enter the next crucial stage of her life... adulthood. I know she will grow and develop and become more independent but I hope she always stays the compassionate and loving human being that she is... and keeps her mum, dad and her four moggies close to her heart.

Good Luck Krish! Rock China!! but stay safe and remember keep smiling and the world will smile with you!

Falling in Love Again!

You know that funny feeling you have inside you when you fall in love. It's a magical moment when your heart races like a galloping horse and your stomach somersaults like an Olympic gymnast... you only think this happens to you once or at the most twice in your life... on this maiden holiday, I had fallen head over heels no less than four times and each time with a different town or city... if these were all men then I would unashamedly be having several affairs and devouring every moment. Could it therefore be possible that at our next port of call, I could feel the same fuzzy feeling again?

As we entered Cádiz, it felt like we had come from the top of the world to the end of the world. My first impression: Cádiz is Like a pure white mermaid basking in the shimmering sun, wallowing in the warm waters of the Mediterranean and the Atlantic Ocean, Cádiz is simply enrapturing. It was only recently, I found out that Lord Byron had christened it as "Sirena del Oceano" referring to a beautiful mermaid, a curvaceous creature looking out to sea. There is an Atlantis feel about Cadiz except that it proudly and victoriously stands above the water. Like a Beefeater majestically guarding the queen of England, Cádiz Cathedral is so strategically situated at the head of the city and at the edge of the Atlantic, it is an omnipotent edifice: a cathedral, a lighthouse, a fortress and a castle all rolled into one, protecting the city, its people and their prized possessions. With its silvery white walls, its fusion of baroque-rococo-neoclassical styles and its gleaming golden domes, this iconic landmark is stamped in my memory forever.

As we walked through the sea of white houses, we found another popular plaza full of small, quaint bars with their al-fresco seating on the square. As we sat and drank our caña (beer) and ate our oily olives, a wedding party rejoiced as newly weds floated out of the local church, almost as if they were literally on cloud nine! I watched the bride in her immaculately white meringue-style dress, beaming with joy at her husband, excited about the future that lay ahead... and I wished I could have my wedding day again (with Ketan of course), here in Cádiz. I closed my eyes and envisaged myself in an elegantly, flowing, fitted snow white gown, gliding out of Cádiz cathedral, hand in hand with Ketan, suited and booted. We were laughing and crying with joy at the same time; we danced all night on the silvery sand, later swam in the turquoise ocean and spent our first night together under the starry skies of Cádiz's Costa de la Luz. I smiled as I thought how happy I was...I could feel my heart racing and my stomaching doing back flips and I knew I was in love again.

As we drove away from Cadiz, I knew it was not adios but hasta luego.

On Top of the World!

Leaving Granada was difficult as it had captured our hearts and we could not imagine anywhere else so bewitching. From Granada we drove to Sevilla which, in comparison, felt enormous. There was a magnificence about this city with its wide streets, its "all sort" architecture, ranging from Visigothic, Roman, Moorish to modern day. At that time, I had no idea that several years later, I would actually choose Sevilla as a research topic for my A Level Spanish. For now, I simply indulged in its splendour. I had never seen normal city streets lined with orange trees, so short that I could have picked the oranges. Lord Byron had said about this Andalusian capital, "Seville is a pleasant city, famous for its oranges and women." I could see what he meant. Every calle, avenida and plaza had its fair share of oranges and the gentle aroma of this citrus fruit penetrated every walk of life. As for the women, well I certainly kept my eye on Ketan... just his type... dark skinned, with beautiful brown eyes and often jet black, flowing hair... he was in heaven... surrounded by these Hispanic beauties! Sevilla was an overflowing fountain of history with stunning monuments: the 16th century Cathedral of Santa Maria built on the former Mosque, the third largest in the world; the Giralda (originally a Minaret and now a bell tower); La Torre del Oro (the Golden Tower) and Plaza de España ... everywhere you looked, you could see the fusion of bygone cultures coming together with an amazing synchronicity. However, If I am honest, I didn't appreciate the sophistication of Sevilla as immediately as I had been impressed by the greatness of Granada. I misunderstood Sevilla in almost the same way tha Mr Darcy misunderstood Miss Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice, at their first meeting. It took me three visits and a research study nine years later to truly recognise its uniqueness and abundance of offerings to visitors and dwellers alike.

From Sevilla we made our way to Ronda without a clue about the next natural Hispanic haven that we were about to enter. We had never holidayed like this before: everything was unplanned and we had no idea where we were going or staying until we got to the next destination and this surprise element made the trip even more exciting. If there was one city which totally blew me away... it was Ronda. It has to be one of Spain's most exquisite creations, perched like a precious peacock on a precipice. Surrounded by mountains and 750 metres above sea level, the city straddles the river Guadalevin which cuts it in half and creates a 100 metre canyon, El Tajo, on which the city balances like a trapeze artist on a tight rope. Inside the city walls, you feel as if you are being carried away into the archives of history, with its three bridges Old, New and Roman and there is nothing new about the New Bridge as it was built back in the 18th Century! Ronda boasts history with the oldest bull ring where the Spanish tradition of taunting the Toro all began and with its Arab baths which date as far back as the 13th century. As we ambled through the gardens of the Palace of the Moorish King, with its aromatic herbs and trailing jasmine, we forgot we were in the 21st century. It was here, in this enchanting city, we sampled our first vegetarian paella... the Spanish Biryani without the spice!

We left Ronda, as if we were leaving the moon after a maiden visit... we had found something so incredible which we wanted to further explore but Cadiz was calling... it was time to move on to our next destination; but one day we would return to this monumental mountain metropolis and further explore its rich history and culture. For now, as the Spanish would say: Hasta La Proxima!

Another Day In Paradise

Mark Eveleigh a photo journalist described Granada as "an African paradise set under the Sierras like a rose preserved in snow’ and maybe it was the African in me that made me warm to this Moorish City within minutes of being there . Since this, our first trip, we have been back a number of times but never felt as mesmerised as we were on this virgin visit. As with Pitres we had not booked a hotel in advance, so our first challenge was to find somewhere cosy and economical to stay. Again with lady luck on our side, we found a quaint little pension in a side street behind the famous La Alhambra palace. The pension was tucked away and almost hidden like a precious jewel amongst restaurants and coffee shops. Our room was traditionally but pleasantly furnished and very spacious and the best feature was a tiny terrace garden which we had all to ourselves and we could access from our bedroom. It was full of brightly painted ceramic pots which had scarlet red geraniums, orange hibiscus and other pretty potted plants . In the evening a most seductive aroma would waft into the bedroom bewitching, hypnotic and alluringly aphrodisiacal... it was the essence of Jasmine. I could see now why this was one of Spain´s most romantic cities. If you need to revive your love life, I strongly recommend a trip to Granada or failing that place a potted Jasmine plant strategically next to your bedside... it will work wonders!

Our pensión was a stone's throw away from La Alhambra, the 13th century muslim medina majestically overlooking the city and its people. A visit to Granada is simply incomplete without a visit to this iconic, islamic palace: like a visit to Agra without seeing the Taj Mahal! However little did we know, on our first visit that getting into it would more difficult than penetrating the Bank of España! We casually wandered up through the palatial gardens, thinking of the wonders that we were about to witness only to find ourselves joining a long and winding queue. Obediently we joined this and waited and waited and waited and after a couple of hours, having moved a few inches, a guard came out and told us that no more people could enter the palace today and we would have to return tomorrow. Disappointed and drained in the heat of the August sun, we returned to the city. Totally by default, whilst standing in yet another queue in the bank, we found out that we could buy tickets for the Alhambra from here hence reducing our wait in the queue so we bought the tickets and the next morning, we were almost fast tracked into the Palace! All the waiting and frustration had paid off: the Andalusian architecture, the Islamic scriptures on the walls: solamente Alá vence - only Allah wins, the flowing fountains and carefully cultivated gardens were enchanting. We felt like we were being transported back to the days of Mohammed Ben Nazar, the Muslim conqueror. La Alhambra was magical and with its wondrous vistas of the Sierra Nevada, I felt I was in paradise.

After our regal experience, we drifted into the Arabic quarter with row upon row of Moorish malls selling ethnic and oriental jewelry, eastern influenced lanterns and delicately designed rugs minus the jamon! Totally enveloped with a spiritual fragrance of incense sticks and decorated with the brightly coloured Asian artifacts, and I could have aimlessly meandered forever. Was there no end to what this city had to offer?

No!

Everyone knows Spain for its Flamenco and before leaving Granada we had the amazing opportunity to watch authentic flamenco by real gypsy (Gitana) queens in the old caves of the Sierra Nevada. The dark moreno skin, the large almond shaped eyes, the buxom women in their brightly bosom accentuated frilly frocks... bewitched us and not only was Ketan drooling but so was I. We never wanted this night to end and when it did, we dreamed of paradise, we dreamed of Granada.

Would You Like to Buy a Carpet or a Pork Chop?

At last we were on holiday; two whole weeks of being with Ket and Krish with sunshine and fresh air... if I wasn´t in cloud nine now, I soon would be. We drove from Malaga airport towards Andalucia and La Alpujarra (derived from Arabic, meaning the grass land). I had heard how breath taking this part of Spain was but had no idea just how much until we started climbing up what felt like a giant green helter skelter. As we ascended further up into mountains all we could see were luscious green olive trees, delicately divine almond trees and we could smell the fresh fragrant aroma of oranges. As we climbed higher, we left behind hustle and bustle of urban life and then with little if any warning, out popped a tiny mountain tavern where we stopped to have some refreshments. It was here, Ket fell for a popular Spanish dish, Patatas Bravas which when translated into English means brave potatoes because of the hot, spicy "picante" sauce poured generously on top of sauteed potatoes... an Indian man´s delight. Had my father lived to try them, he would have been hooked!

We were heading towards an Alpujarran town called Pitres which my boss had recommended to us because of its rustic and rugged character. We climbed higher, discovering Lanjaron where we made yet another pit stop. The air was fresher than we had ever breathed and it felt like we were moving ever closer to the topaz blue sky. We were quite amused in Lanjaron with the carpet shops that also sold huge legs of jamon (ham)! Gorgeous wool, embroidered carpets would be spread out around the shops and right above them, hanging down casually were these meaty legs. Had it not been for the fact that we were vegetarian, we would have simply been confused... why had we come in? Was it to be a rug or a pork chop?

The journey so far was incredible and we were gripped by the beauty surrounding us and our only concern was food. Would we veggies survive two weeks in this meat loving country? Would we find meat free dishes? Would the locals think we were mad? We arrived in Pitres and headed towards a recommended hotel, San Roque. Although only two stars, the antiquey rooms were spacious with white washed walls and beds were of old dark wood frames with deep mattresses and crispy, clean, creamy bedsheets. The staff were friendly despite our mutual lack of language skills and within minutes we were settled in our room. As we ventured out that evening the first thing we spotted was another one of these hybrid carpet come meat shops and we feared the meat feast that was going to lie ahead of us.

Coincidentally and totally unplanned, it was Pitres Fiesta weekend and the entire square was decorated brightly with lights and vibrantly coloured flags. There was music and dancing and all we could hear was a constant chatter, laughter and people simply being merry. With our first drink came a little plate with something we could not recognise and once established that it was meat free we ate it... and ordered another drink with the hope we would get another one of these "tapas". This may be the only veggie food we were getting that night!

The tasty tapas treats were appetisers and we were ready for a hearty vegetarian dinner but where we would get one of these, god only knew! Well if I had ever doubted the existence of god, then today would put an immediate end to that! As we wandered through the streets of Pitres, scrutinising restaurants and their menus exhibited outside, we were totally astounded to find not one but three vegetarian establishments offering some of the most mouthwatering meat free dishes! We were in heaven! We realised then that Spain was full of surprises and this was only just the beginning! We ate, drank, chatted, laughed and totally "fiestad" until the early hours just like the locals... this was the life... we couldn´t wait for what tomorrow would bring. Hasta Mañana!

The Start of a Secret Affair

Isn't it funny how things are sometimes just meant to be? I am a great believer in kismet that beautiful word with a mysterious meaning... like serendipity and déja vu, there is a sense of twilight and supernatural about it. I believe now we were destined for Spain...somewhere, in some heavenly, devine organiser, the forces that be rerouted our path to the the Iberian Peninsula. But did it just happen? Was it as simple as resigning from an amazing career and buying three one way tickets to Alicante? I look back and recollect... easy? No! but meant to be? Yes!

In 2002, we were living in Eldwick, an idyllic village in West Yorkshire with a beautiful house overlooking the Yorkshire Moors. The location was stunning with each season being so crisp and clearly recognisable... when the winter came the moors looked like nicely risen victoria sponges with a thick layer of icing sugar and when the summer dropped in, the landscape was as stunning as a treasure chest of emerald nuggets. With a location like this, good jobs and Krish in a great school, why would we want to move? At the time, we didn't want to move and we hadn't thought about something as big as emigrating to a new country since the mid 1990s when Ketan and I had been on the verge of applying to become Canadian citizens. At that time we had bought the books on a life in Canada and we had completed the application forms only to find ourselves in a dilemma. My father was seriously ill and the pressure on my family especially my mother was enormous so we decided that now was not the time to realise our dreams... now was the time to support our family and simply to be there. We thought that emigrating was a dim and distant dream which now would remain that way forever. After a bitter struggle with his health and a connoction of complications, my father sadly passed away in 1997 and I knew then that our decision had been the right one. The late 1990s were difficult ones for our families as no sooner had my father died, my niece, Hetal fell ill overnight with what turned out to be a terminal illness... her story is too melancholy to write in detail and one which remains with us forever. Sadly this beautiful, bubbly 18 year old who was at the starting line of life's race, cruelly never got to even set off... contracting a terminal illness, sadly dying in January 1999. These two losses in a short period of time, raised so many unanswerable questions in our heads...and over and over again we asked Why? Why? Why?

Then in the summer of 2001, we decided to take a holiday in Spain. We had never been there but my boss, a lover of Andalucia, had sold it to me and I in turn had convinced Ketan to book flights and a hire car. We would travel to Malaga and from there journey through the Alpujarras, explore the Moorish cities of Andalucia and coast through the Costa del Sol all the way to Cadiz and back. On a scale of one to ten, this I would say was 15! It was just incredible... the stunning topography, the warm and loveable locals, the eternally blue skies, the rich and vibrant culture... everything (except ofcourse the meaty cuisine) was perfect. We simply fell in love again and it felt like both Ketan and I were having a secret affair with the same person... she was called España!

This blog is dedicated to the late Rameshbhai Madhvani and the late Hetal Gandhi... God bless.

Ten Life Changing Questions

Here I am in my Villa in Spain (actually its what the Spanish call a bungalow even though it has two floors), embarking on this blog. Why? well around five and half years ago, my husband Ketan, my daughter Krisha and I decided to make a life changing move from the UK to Spain. It was one of the biggest decisions that Ketan and I had taken in our married life. Often today people ask us why we did it. People are intrigued that a relatively young couple (well we were in our late 30s when we moved) should sell their house, all their belongings and leave their jobs to move out to what is probably considered to be a top holiday destination for many Brits and a popular retirement hub, Spain. Well we hadn´t won the lottery so it wasn´t going to be an eternal holiday and we were definitely not ready to put our feet up and potter about in our Spanish terrace. I look back at our last few years in England and remember that life had become incredibly hectic with me working long hours and not spending any time with Krisha. When people talk about the rat race and being on a hamster wheel... well we felt we were in this eternal rodent race and riding a fast spinning and never ending wheel. Ketan not only worked hard but because of my long hours, he tended to do virtually everything for Krisha from picking and dropping her off at school to cooking all our meals... and I would eventually come home, eat and get into bed with my laptop. Then one day, we were driving down to my mum´s in Leicester and to kill time and boredom of the journey, Krisha asked me to answer ten questions about her from what her favourite band was to her least favourite food. As Krisha asked each question, I ummed and ahed and basically sank further into my seat as I struggled to answer. I didn´t get one single question right! Krisha was devastated that I knew so little if anything about her but little did she realise that I felt a million times worse than her. My eyes had been welling up as each question was fired at me and now at the end of this inquisition, my eyes were drowning in tears, somthing inside me was breaking into pieces, feeling like I was a failure... a total flop. For me that was a turning point, a recognition that something had to change drastically and that something was the way I was living my life. But how... how could I jump off that mad, giant feris wheel safely? Would I have an inbuilt parachute that would shoot out and steer me to a new land in one piece. It was time to rethink the future, revise my so called career plans and reroute the path of destiny.