Me And Emilíana

On the eve of our departure to Tenerife, I went to see the gorgeous Emilíana Torrini perform at the Paradiso. Her breathless voice has a warm, enchanting quality to it in the same way as Björk’s, but Emilíana’s a much better songwriter, if you ask me.

The concert was recorded and featured most of the recent Me And Armini album, plus, of course, songs from the previous two. The sound is pretty good and the band were in perfect form, very tight, this being the last night of the tour. There’s plenty of inter-song banter, too.

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Geert Groote In Rep En Roer

Oei, oei, oei, het rammelt aan alle kanten bij de Geert Groote School in Amsterdam. De berichtgeving windt er geen doekjes om, getuige artikelen de afgelopen week in De Volkskrant, het NRC, het AD en niet 1, niet 2, niet eens 3, maar liefst 4 berichten in Het Parool.

De meeste chaos heeft betrekking op de GGS2 school op de Fred Roeskestraat, die al langer te boek staat als ‘zeer zwak’ bij de onderwijsinspectie. Het scheelde niet veel of dit was Eloïses basisschool geworden. Wij waren bekend met de geschiedenis, maar tegelijk onder de indruk van nieuwe directrice, Anne Veldt.

Toch kun je het je als buitenstaander niet permitteren om de mooie praatjes van de leerkrachten en nieuwe directrice voor zoete koek te slikken. De school, ook al zou het nu op de goede weg zijn, verkeert in turbulente tijden en zou net zo makkelijk weer kunnen omslaan in een probleemschool. Daarom hebben we uiteindelijk toch voor de GGS1 gekozen, die decennialang stabiel en betrouwbaar functioneert. Gelukkig maar, want dat omslaan lijkt nu een feit.

Op Eloïses toekomstige basisschool, de GGS1, is het dus fors minder erg gesteld, maar de vrees ontstaat nu wel dat deze school meegezogen wordt in de ellende van haar ontregelde zus. Het artikel in het AD stelt overigens ten onrechte dat ook de GGS1 vorig jaar met sluiting zou zijn bedreigd. Dat klopt gewoon niet.

Ik ben zeer benieuwd hoe het nu verder moet met de GGS2, die er alle schijn van had juist op de goede weg te zijn met zijn verbeterplan. Als je de berichtgeving moet geloven, kon een aantal ouders de compromis niet verkroppen die deze school noodgedwongen had gemaakt met de gemeente om de voortgang van rekenen en taal te toetsen. De ouders in kwestie zouden vinden dat de school met deze nieuwe nadruk te cognitief onderwijs aan het geven was.

Inmiddels heeft de Vereniging van Vrijescholen op de commotie gereageerd.

Je kiest niet voor niets een Vrije School. Sarah en ik gaan de komende maanden nauwlettend de ontwikkelingen in de gaten houden, zeker met betrekking tot hun neveneffecten op de GGS1, waar Eloïse volgens de planning na de zomer gaat beginnen.

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From The Rain In Spain To The Bane Of The Stain

We arrived back in Amsterdam yesterday evening. The luggage took an eternity to roll off the conveyor belt at Schiphol and I arrived with a splitting headache (which had started midway through the first leg, from Tenerife to Madrid), an affliction that is becoming all too common for me these days when flying. This time, I was really nauseated and could barely eat anything when I got home. I crashed on the sofa around 21:30 and slept for about eleven hours. Most unusual.

Worse, however, was the sight that awaited us in the dining-room. Going on holiday doesn’t seem possible for us any more without some kind of watery incident occurring in our absence.

You may recall that last time, our boiler had leaked its entire contents via a circuitous route onto the dining-room ceiling. We had wasted no time in getting the boiler repaired and the ceiling was repainted just before going on this most recent holiday.

Alas, although the boiler had, indeed, emptied itself last time, a separate problem must have been behind the water on the dining-room ceiling, because the same thing has happened again this time, too. Our lovely paint job, just a few weeks old, is ruined; the brown stains on the ceiling are back with a vengeance.

Of course, upon seeing the damage, I immediately suspected our boiler again, so I bolted upstairs to check it. To my surprise (and relief), there was nothing wrong with it.

This leaves us with something of a mystery. What is the cause of the leak? I think it must have something to do with either the pipes of the shower cabinet or the heated towel rack in the bathroom above. Troubleshooting this problem could prove very difficult without breaking open walls and/or floors.

One thing’s for certain: there’s no point in having the ceiling repainted until we get to the bottom of this puzzle and have the problem fixed. Let’s hope that, when we do, the insurance is prepared to cough up for the damage a second time.

Groan…

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Eloïse And The Animals

For our last day in Tenerife, we decided on something a bit different; different for us, anyway.

We drove the short distance to Puerto de la Cruz and spent the day at Loro Parque, an animal park whose main attractions are parrots, sea-lions, orcas and dolphins. As is typical for this kind of place, there are periodic shows, with the animals performing a multitude of anthropomorphic acts to the glee of the onlooking public.

I just can’t help sounding cynical, can I? Well, in spite of the moral dilemma raised by such an endeavour, I actually had a really good time. In fact, we all did, except possibly Lukie, who remained oblivious to most of what went on around him.

We hadn’t told Eloïse we were going to the park. As we pulled into the car-park, I told her we were just going to a supermarket.

Once inside, however, she realised that something funny was going on. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that she loved every minute of it. She absolutely lapped it up, especially the shows.

We went to the sea-lion show, the parrot show, the orca show and even twice to the dolphin show. Not only was it great fun for me, too, but it was also the ideal opportunity to put my recently purchased Canon EF 70-200 mm F4L IS USM lens through its paces. It performed brilliantly, and with a fast shutter speed, I managed to freeze some great action, including dolphins mid-air, jumping through hula hoops. Expect to see these and the rest of our holiday snaps uploaded in the next few days.

We stayed the entire day. In fact, there was only one other car left in the car park when we made our way out, just before seven o’clock. I’d say we got our money’s worth.

After dinner in Puerto de la Cruz (at La Rosa Di Bari, a nice Italian restaurant), we drove back to La Orotava in the pouring rain.

And that’s basically the end of this two week jaunt. This time tomorrow, we’ll be back in Amsterdam.

As always, it’s been good fun, but as is typical for me nowadays, I’m also looking forward to getting back to our own home and bed. Eloïse, too, is ready to go home and back to peuterspeelzaal.

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Meandering To La Orotava

Sarah was thankfully feeling a lot better when she awoke from her slumber yesterday morning.

After a cautious breakfast, we hauled our suitcases to the car and were on our way. That is to say, we would have been on our way, but we couldn’t find the key to the car.

After opening our cases on the pavement and rifling through the pockets of our folded shorts, trousers and shirts, we started to get worried. I went back to the hotel and checked the room: no key. Sarah went back to the hotel and gave it another going over: still no key.

After several more minutes on the street, going through our stuff, Eloïse called to us from the other side of the street: “The key is in the yellow carrier-bag.” Huh? How could that be so?

We looked into the carrier-bag containing Eloïse’s snacks and treats for consumption while we’re on the road and, sure enough, there was the car key. Further enquiry revealed that she had seen the key lying in the hotel room and had put it into that bag as a surprise for us. She hadn’t told us that she’d done it, because then it wouldn’t be a surprise.

Relieved at no longer having to ponder what our next move might be, we left Garachico and wound our way towards the mountain village of Masca.

On the way, we stopped at a mountain pass to take a few photos and encountered the strongest winds I have ever stood in. I had trouble remaining upright as the wind buffeted me in all directions. My bare legs stang as the wind blasted them with flying gravel and my hands froze as I tried to hold the camera steady, waiting for a lull in the wind.

Back in the car, the vehicle rocked from side to side. I glanced through my side window at the woman in the passenger’s seat of the car next to ours. We exchanged glances as an uneasy smile spread across her face. The combined motion of both cars in the wind exaggerated the perception of a vehicle about to become airborne.

As we left the pass, the wind died down and we slowly made our way along the narrow road to Masca. I went as slowly as I could, keen not to thrown down the gauntlet to the car-sickness prone Sarah’s barely recovered stomach.

As we descended towards Masca, it immediately became apparent that our journey would not be in vain. It’s hard to do justice with words alone to the sight that greeted us. Masca, situated in the Teno mountains, is home to just 150 or so residents, but hundreds, if not thousands, of tourists pass through it each and every day. Just a few decades ago, it had no road and the only way to reach it was via footpaths, but today, touring coaches and endless cars make the trip to this now pseudo-remote backwater.

We had started out late, so it was already lunchtime when we arrived in Masca. A bite to eat was therefore the priority, so we stopped off at one of the village’s restaurants. The food was surprisingly good and served on a terrace that looked out across the precipitous slopes towards the mountains and the Atlantic Ocean. The view was simply breathtaking. In the distance, we could see the island of La Gomera across the water.

After lunch and a lazy walk along the paths that make up the village, we returned to the car and lapped up the scenic drive to Icod de los Vinos, principally to look at a several hundred year old dragon tree in the centre of town. It was an impressive sight and has stood in that spot longer than the town itself.

It was getting late in the day, so we had to push on up the TF-5 to La Orotava.

Dinner was at a traditional Canarian restaurant. As ever, I was eager to try something local. All of the dishes on the menu had brief descriptions and English translations of their name, except one: chocos. Like calamari, I was assured by the owner.

Well, why not? The name of the dish probably played a subliminal role in my choice, too.

To be fair, my chocos, when they turned up, were, indeed, a bit like squid, with that chewy elastic consistency. However, these were much bigger — only two on the plate — and much, much, thicker. It was like eating the cartilage from someone’s knee. They were tasteless, too, which left me with nothing to focus on, but the texture, which was like the sole of an old plimsoll.

Anyway, back at the hotel, my friend, Google, revealed that I’d been masticating on cuttlefish, the same molluscs that, when dried, are used by parrots and budgies to sharpen their beaks. They can keep it, too. That stuff is for the birds. I won’t be eating cuttlefish ever again if I can help it.

Today was spent wandering around the cobbled streets of La Orotava, with their narrow pavements and buildings adorned by impressively huge, carved wooden doors. The pavements of La Orotava are as narrow as the doorways of the buildings are grandiose. Honestly, you can barely walk a child’s buggy down the pavements of these roads.

It was a very cool day today at about 13°C. Actually, the weather is peculiar across much of Europe at the moment, with severe weather warnings in Portugal and mainland Spain. Here in the Canaries, the inconvenience is limited to cloudiness and unusually cool temperatures. Not too bad, considering.

Tomorrow’s our last day on the island before flying home on Sunday.

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