A week marked by the visit of my children, something that does not happen very often given that my daughter currently lives in Cardiff and my son in New York.
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From Sunday’s bike ride to Puerto de la Carrasqueta, interesting clouds:
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On the way back, I went through the town of Ibi, stopping at this roundabout near the entrance to the town. Ibi is a major toy manufacturing centre:
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I also noticed a new memorial to a motorcyclist killed in an accident on the road to Carrasqueta. During the past weeks, I have noticed that there are more police patrols on this road, including mobile speed traps. This (and other) memorials along the road explains why:
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Since my vegan daughter is here, I have been cooking food like this. These are Danish vegan “meat”balls, made of crumbled tofu and a number of other good things. They are called frækkedeller, a word play on the Danish word for “meatball”, “frikadelle”, and the word “fræk”, best translated as “naughty.” The idea is that they are so delicious as to be decadent. And they are:
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A healthy lunch in the office cafeteria, grilled mackarel with grilled artichoke and spinach:
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On Monday afternoon, I left work early to go the airport to meet my son who was arriving from New York via Boston and Amsterdam. Here he emerges from the baggage claim area, tired but happy to be here:
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Some 20 minutes later, we arrive at home to surprise my wife (she had not been told of our son’s impending arrival, we wanted to surprise her):
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On Tuesday we had a tasting of Portuguese wines at the office, and I brought Moses along. The reds are lined up, ready to go:
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Meanwhile, the rosé wine and white port are chilling:
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The presenter was the proprietor of a wine shop in the centre of Alicante, a very knowledgeable man:
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My son checks the bouquet of a Duero wine:
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Comparing colours:
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A more sombre event at the office, and sadly a repeated occurrence these days; a minute of silence at noon on Friday in memory of the victims of the terrorist attacks in London:
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On a more positive note, the week also marked the 60th anniversary of the Treaty of Rome, the founding document of what was to become the European Union. One of the ways in which we celebrated the occasion was to set up a large banner on which people were invited to write what Europe meant to them, personally:
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Most of the messages focused on the 60 years of peace:
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Back home, Moses enjoyed being with us, and with his beloved Cheeta:
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On Saturday morning, Moses came along for my golf practice and did some practicing of his own:
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For someone who has never had any instruction, Moses hits the ball quite well:
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Later in the day, we took a stroll in the centre, starting with the Mercado Central. First, the seafood section:
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The on to fruit and veg:
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Suddenly we heard music in the street and went outside to look. It turned out that one of the hermandades was practicing their Easter procession. Instead of the statues of saints etc., they carried food collected for charity on their platform:
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It was serious practice for the costaleros:
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But they had some fun too:
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The band:
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Our next stop was a second-hand bookshop called Re-Read. Monica has long wanted to see it, but it turned out to be rather thin on the offerings, so we left bookless, an unusual experience for us:
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We then went on to Plaza Seneca, a square that had been heavily bombed during the Spanish Civil War, and where the old air raid shelters have been restored. I found it a wonderful sight to see a little girl playing on top of such a sinister structure:
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Roof of an outdoor bar, Plaza Montañeta:
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Wall art, near Plaza Canalejas:
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Calle de las Setas, or “mushroom street”:
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We finished the stroll with cupcakes at Canada Coffee, one of our favourite places. It is actually owned by a couple of Canadian guys. Their cupcakes are delicious, and some of them are vegan, so Monica can have one too:
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The moment of tasty truth:
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And finally, something that is not even a photo. Monica is a talented writer, and she draws very well too, as evidenced by this drawing she made while watching TV the other day:
