sun for the soul

We've recently returned from a much-needed break in Spain. At one point in the chaos that preceded the holiday I though it wasn't actually going to happen, but we made it off the island, Andy lagging half a week behind me, and enjoyed doing some serious relaxing in a remote mountain valley in the Sierra Nevadas. The region is called Las Alpujarras and was just so tranquil and beautiful - our little rustic cottage was in one of the tiny whitewash villages dotted throughout the mountains. With a balcony and rooftop with an incredible view, we spent our days reading, sleeping, hiking, and sampling our fair share of the local chorizo. I had the first three or four days as a solo retreat (long story) and to my surprise I lapped up every last peaceful, inert, sleepy minute of it.

Our good friends Sarah and KP happened to be staying a few hours away and so the following week, we invited them for a night in the mountains with us where we found the most incredible vegetarian restaurant in this teensy village, run by the immensely talented Frenchman Jean-Claude, who treated us single handedly to a gastronomically divine evening. The following day we all drove to Granada and stumbled around the breathtaking Alhambra palaces, slack-jawed, taking in the incredible Moorish designs and architecture.

The final few days we spent in Atequera, mainly sitting in the sunny town square reading papers and eating tapas, with the occasional random element thrown in like a blues festival and food poisoning. What holiday is complete without it? Though it feels like it was over all too soon, the sunshine and nature did some serious good for my soul and helped both of us let the dust settle on what's been a somewhat tough and draining few months. I tried to store up as much sunshine in my bones and in my soul to make in through the rest of this grayer Mancunian summer!

buddies, baldies and bagpipes

The past week our very good buds Sarah and KP were in town visiting us from Missouri as part of their European summer tour. We had loads of fun showing them around a few particularly 'English' sights, including small Yorkshire villages, the cobbled streets of Oxford, curry on the Manchester curry mile, and of course lots of real ale in some fine pubs.

By far the highlight was an impromptu meeting with an eclectic acoustic music group as we were enjoying a pint in the Peveril of the Peak in Manchester. Halfway through our first pint in strolled a bald, totally tattooed, fishnet-clad northerner brandishing a set of tartan bagpipes and with an equally random mix of musicians in tow. You really can't make this stuff up. Needless to say we hung around for a few more beers to enjoy the Irish music and generally soak in the randomness of it all. What this man does as a day job is anyone's guess...