So we’re back in Marbs again. Leaving behind the snow and freezing temperatures of Prague and back to our Covid bubble of loveliness. I have never really been one for the cold – I’m not particularly into skiing, mountains, winter sports (although I do have a bit of a penchant for ice hockey, but for different reasons 😊) – give me sun, beaches, tennis courts and heat any day. However, after such a long time living in the Czech Republic, my body had almost got used to ridiculously low temperatures during the winter, where, especially before global-warming kicked in, it wasn’t unusual for it to hit minus 20, especially in the dark days of Jan/Feb.
Years ago, when we only used to visit Marbella occasionally in the winter (where it averages PLUS 20 degrees!), we would be running along the beach in shorts and vests whilst the Spanish were huddled up in their fur coats and woolly scarves, looking at us as if we had just escaped from somewhere (well, I suppose we had, in a way). But now, after nearly two years of toing and froing between the two countries, and only really toing to Prague during the summer, our bodies have forgotten what cold feels like, and when mine found out, it didn’t like it at all!
Incidentally, I wrote the first bit of this blog whilst we were flying from Prague past the Swiss mountains (covered in snow and very pretty – best place to view them from if you ask me!) on Eurowings (formerly the notorious German Wings – mention of the mountains reminded me…). And how very civilised it was too – if you have read my blog before, you will know that I am a huge fan of Ryanair, but I must say Eurowings was a significantly better experience, reminiscent of the old days of ‘scheduled flights’ (although even they didn’t call passengers ‘guests’ as we were referred to throughout the flight!). Anyway, it looks as if this will be our preferred way of travel for the coming months, assuming they manage to keep flying (not many guests on board on Saturday, sadly.).
Having said that, Jan was back on Ryanair yesterday, taking his first trip to the UK for nearly two years! Of course, he (we) could have gone there before, but he refused to go if he had to put money into the Government’s coffers by way of endless Covid tests (Jan is not keen on putting money into anyone’s coffers at the best of times, as you may know!) and every time I think about going, something else happens (usually related to BJ and his merry men), that puts me off. In the end, unfortunately, he had to fork out for a PCR test here in Spain anyway, and then another test on landing in the UK, which reinforces my view that all of the testing, really, is about money and nothing much else.
Actually, at the last minute, Jan almost changed his mind, having watched a manic-looking BJ on TV on Sunday, spouting off about moving England to Phase 4 or whatever he called it – which actually means nothing much, other than requiring the poor National Health workers to give a booster jab to a million people a day, or something ridiculous – and since most doctors and nurses are already completely exhausted, and they now have to spend their day giving boosters to people instead of doing their normal job, all other medical procedures are to be put on hold. Since, as far as I can tell, everyone that has had two jabs is ready and willing to get a booster as soon as possible, I really cannot see why BJ felt the need to do a Sunday night broadcast to urge them to do just that, when, really, they/we are not the problem. (Of course, it is possible that some clever PR person suggested that he do that to show (a) how hard he works - it being a Sunday night, (b) how 'on the case' he is with this, thereby diverting people's attention from all of his other sins and (c) how exhausted he is from both (a) above and having yet another new baby, God forbid,... so some of the more pro-government people out there might just feel sorry for him. I don't. But in my previous life as a clever PR person, I would probably have suggested that he do the same!).
I know I sound like a broken record, but, yet again, I just don't understand why BJ and his merry men never seem to look at other countries and what they are doing. Instead they spout off their idiotic ideas as if they are the only government that has or is having to deal with Covid… maybe it is because it is a ‘different’ Covid in the UK (in the same way as, as one of our English friends suggested to us earlier in the year, the Pfizer vaccine that we had is a ‘different kind of vaccine’ to the one being used in the UK. Honestly. It makes me MAAAAADDD.). May I suggest that most of Europe puts a huge amount of faith in wearing a mask, and certainly in Spain everyone wears one as a matter of course and never really complains (but maybe they are a 'different kind of mask' to those in the UK...?!) - I know that if and when I eventually head over there, I will be wearing my mask at all times (and, let's face it, they are a pretty good way to keep your nose warm, as I found out in the CR. I am thinking to invest in a furry one soon.
Manolo Santana and some other bloke
Anyway, enough of that. Sad news on our arrival on Saturday when we learned that Manolo Santana, one of the biggest names in tennis and a legend in Spain (and the owner of the club where I play) had died. This came as no real surprise to us as he had been very ill for some time now (with Parkinsons and/or Altzheimer's…not quite sure which as it has been a closely-guarded secret), but judging by all of the outpouring of grief amongst the tennis community on Twitter, and the messages saying ‘how tragic’ his death was, clearly no-one outside of his close circle had a clue what had been going on. Which is strange and sad. Those of us that have known, know that his death is not tragic. Sad, yes, but the tragic thing was that he got such a terrible illness in the first place, and it has been awful to watch him fade away, both physically and mentally. All that can really be said now is that hopefully the great man will be able to ‘rest in peace’, something that he was clearly not able to do for the past few years.
It's not all doom and gloom. The sun has been shining ever since we got here, and I am gradually getting into the Christmas mood. This morning, after an early tennis training session and some bits of work, I was out hunting for Christmas trees with Saint Rostya (who I talked about a lot in my 100 day diary) who is staying around the corner from us and had asked me if I knew where she could buy one. Jan had suggested that maybe she should do without a Christmas tree and instead dress up some of the palm trees in her lovely garden, but after seeing this photo this morning, I felt that we should at least make an effort to find something more traditional, and thankfully, we found not only some lovely trees, but a lot of lovely things to go with.
More about lovely things in due course.
Thanks Jo. Some great one liners here …in the spirit of black humor. And topped off (pun intended) by the photo of phallic seasonal decorations !