Zapatos

I thoroughly enjoyed my visit to the rural museum in Aguimes.  I feel I have learnt so much about the history of this island and the struggles of its people.  And I found these.  So full of stories that we can't know.  

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Chillies

Small things sometimes pull on your heart strings.  My husband grows hundreds of chillies every year.  More than we can ever eat.  More than he can share.  He sews them together with thread just like the ones you can see in the picture.  They dry out and are good for cooking. This evening, as I walked back down the hill to where I am staying in the beautiful mountain town of Tejeda in Gran Canaria, I saw this little abandoned cottage.  There's the little table and chairs, with the seat cushions rotting away, and the strung chillies still hanging on the wall, that will never be used now. But someone, some time ago, sat and strung them patiently.

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Guaguas, Papas & Peppers

This really is just about some small things. In fact, a handful of little words. In Gran Canaria there is a local dialect, so some Spanish words are not used. There are no autobuses but there are guaguas – which is onomatopoeia for the sound of the old claxon horns. And papas are not Daddies - but potatoes – normally cooked in their skins until they go wrinkly and served with mojo rojo. A simple but very tasty red sauce.

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The Humble Chair

Have you ever considered the humble chair and its significance?  In Gran Canaria I met Jenni from Germany who definitely has, so much so that she has a great tattoo depicting one, which is what prompted our chat.  We had an interesting conversation with our fellow hikers about it as we climbed up a very beautiful mountain.  Do you remember the first chair you sat on?  Do any particular chairs hold memories for you?  What happens when there are no chairs? And when did chairs become something everyone could afford?

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Being Brave

I have now had LOTS of great conversations about solo travelling whilst I am on my journeys. People want to know how and why I do it, where I have been, what my friends and family think etc. And I am happy to tell them, as I enjoy talking to people and hearing their stories too. Then I am often told that I am BRAVE to travel alone. I am now pretty much into the swing of solo travelling (and loving it) and have had time to reflect on this. I’m sure I’m not brave.  I am just organised! You need to know what you are looking to achieve and do your research carefully. You make your list and get on the internet (or just read your guidebooks if that is more your thing). A big priority is to make sure you are going somewhere safe, and another is to check that the things you want to see/do are actually open/available, that you can get to them, and that the climate is going to be as expected (just to name a few aspects). Maybe it’s a little brave (but definitely worth it) to do what I recommend and just book your first few nights of accommodation… then go find where you want to stay for the rest of your trip – checking it out in person beats any other method hands down.

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Metrios

I am a coffee drinker and a grumpy morning person until I get some caffeine into the system. On my recent trip to Cyprus I was introduced to metrios by George (who turned out to be a fellow singer and whose concert I later attended – but that’s for another blog).  In the middle photo you can see my first metrios waiting for me – Cypriot hospitality has a lot going for it.

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Where you from?

There was a noise up ahead.  It was hard to work out what was going on as we were in what seemed like a deserted valley full of citrus groves.  There were voices too and the noise turned out to be a generator in the back of an old truck, powering a long automated rake.  We had stumbled across what might have been one of the last private harvestings of olives in the valley (as it was December and late in the season).  An elderly couple were striking a grand old olive tree with what looked like plastic toy rakes and in between them was their son, with the mechanised and rather more efficient version thereof.

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A Sweet Surprise

I had just driven through the village of Episkopi and whilst pleased with myself for navigating ridiculously steep hills and 180 degree hairpin bends, I had ignored the directions I was given and therefore it was in the bottom of the valley that I met my host for the day, Pambos..  Before we set off on the hike I had booked to do with him, Pambos beckoned me to follow him into a dense citrus grove. His elderly neighbour was there tending his fruit trees and whilst they chatted in Greek this lovely old gentlemen took my face into his hands and smiled. There was a shout from behind us and Pambos laughed – his friend had upset his wife again – she never missed a trick.

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