Quillo and Amorcita

When I stayed at my parents after my divorce, I also needed some me-time. My sister introduced me into this game called 'Second Life'. I didn't understand it at first and left it for a couple of months only to try again. Since my sis lived in England, and still does, it was a fun discovery for us to do the same things online as we would in real life. Shopping, dancing, swimming, talking, anything you can basically think of doing in real life.

So anyway, I started get into it, and we particularly liked dancing at an online 'rave'. Not for the music at all, but simply because of how many people it attracted. My online name was in Spanish, and I called myself 'Amorcita', meaning little love. That seemed to attract quite a few Spanish guys, although conversation quickly stopped since I knew exactly 5 words Spanish. But not for Quillo. He was interested in teaching me some Spanish and we conversed in English. He thought it was funny I used a Spanish name and not speaking Spanish. I thought it was funny he addressed me because he really wanted to get to know Englishspeakers, and since my name didn't have anything English... Well, it was a funny coincidence.



We started to see eachother a few times online, usually by chance, untill I noticed I started looking out for him. I did have other 'playdates' but none of them seem to be that interested in talking alone. So I lost my interest in them quickly. Not Quillo. I laughed constantly with him and soon we'd started online 'dating'. I remember the first set date was to a chapel in Las Vegas, and we got married. It's something I would definitly do, and I think that made me fall for him. I laughed as he accidently ended up in a gays night club and we lost eachother. I laughed because he couldn't figure out how to quit his red luminary crown of light around his head.

I had so much fun with him. Later we started to call eachother, or talk with eachother through webcam and msn. Things went fast.

Then I knew I had to make a decision. I could stay with my secure, but slightly becoming monotone job as an officemanager. OR, I could start again, as I would have to do anyway. I would have to leave my parents house at some stage, right? With the job they couldn't offer me more hours, so that made it easier for me.... I'd quit my job, I had a one-way ticket booked and I was off to Spain with one overpacked suitcase. I had everything I needed.

The hardest part was leaving my dog Farran behind. He'd stay with my parents untill my ex would pick him up from Ireland in the new year. So I left... and only my best friend Daphne was allowed to take me to the airport, otherwise, I'd much rather go alone. I'm not good at goodbyes.

On the plane, I remembered being more calm than standing in the check-in line, which was humongous. More time to doubt my decision. Thank god for Daphne being there, she'd kept me sane. The flight was agonizingly long, slightly under 3 hours, but still. There were a lot of young people on this late flight, probably having spend a weekend smoking pot in Amsterdam. They were noisy, which for once, I didn't mind. It was a welcome distraction to my thoughts. Getting off the plane I felt the pressing heat of the Spanish Summer in Sevilla covering me like a blanket. That instantly made my mouth dry. We had to take a bus towards the baggage claim and I remember a group of guys inviting me to a party that night. I laughed shyly and said I'm meeting someone.

That someone I saw peeping out of the sliding doors, looking particularly nervous. There he was...Quillo, my online hero. And the beginning of a new episode...Miguel and Eline.

Portugal and the Party

So this weekend we will go the biggest rave between friends. Yes, rave. It does still exist.
I have to say that a small group of friends organize this every year, and the DJ and his wife are somewhat elderly. With that I mean in their early forties. Hence the rave-music. I don't care for the music itself, and is certainly not the reason why I went the past 2 years.

But every year around this time, I get butterflies again, because for me, this party was kind of the whole thing that started my online relationship with Miguel.
When we were just talking friendly, he would always invite my to the party in Portugal and he would set me up with his friends. Little did he know, that I wasn't really looking to be with his friends, but more interested in meeting him. Little did I know, that indeed 2 months later, I would be joining him for real!

The best part is when we all meet up on Carrapateira beach on fridaynight. It's a casual get-together of our closest friends, and usually people I haven't seen for months. When it's dark, we start with a BBQ, which is no more than a piece of meat with a slice of roasted bread. But it's yummy after being 4-5 hours on the road. We eat, talk, drink and laugh untill we're too drunk, too tired and find our way to our (if lucky, previously put up and organized) tent.

We sleep untill sunrise, go for a dip in the sea and collect our collectables to head of to the party. This is usually on another beach, as it is set up illegal. Camping on the beaches in Portugal is not allowed, neither in Spain, but in Portugal, the police don't tend to control that much. They only give a warning and saying you have to move your stuff in a rather scary fashion, but no more.
That's why we pick remote beaches in Portugal for the party. The more difficult to reach, the less likelier it is that police will show up.

What I love the most about the party, apart from seeing long lost friends, is that fact that The Algarve of South Portugal is so beautiful. The landscape is rough, the ocean is blue, the beaches are untouched by humans. At night, you feel so small, with those million starts in the sky, covering the world like a dreamy blanket. I feel more one with nature, and it puts a lot of things in perspective. Daily stupid worries dissapear for a while, home doesn't exist for a while, only the here and now.

The tent is standing at the front door, the sleeping bags are washed, the cooling box has been dusted off. Sandwiches are to be made, water is needed. Will it get cold? Where is my flashlight? We are going tomorrow!!

Tio Pio

A few weeks ago, I found a little sparrow in our garden. It was bald, apart from a few tufts of feather on his tail and wings. As Miguel always tried to rescue them, and we had a few over the past years, I felt like I should too do a good deed.

The problem as is with all little birds, they need a lot of attention and I wasn't so sure we would do the right thing. Normally they say to leave them alone, but this one obviously would die if not rescued and was covered by ants. Close call...

Also, so far our attempts to rescue little birds were unsuccesful. One died of hunger when we couldn't come home on time from a wedding. Another died of sleeping in a drafty place. But, confident we could do it this time, I decided to rescue the little one.

As far as the name, we each name all them Tio Pio, what kind of translates as Uncle Chirp. We stopped counting, however...

It is a lot of hassle, they need food every 1-2 hours. Luckily, it sleeps through the night, but as birds do...rise early.
It did cost me a lot of sleep, since I had it close to my bedside and could feed him with my eyes closed if necessary.
With Miguel's mom babysitting at times to give us a night off, we were relieved for not having to wake up at dawn after a night on the town.

Now, about 5 weeks later it has grown and with a few attempts to let him fly in the meantime, we felt yesterday that it was time to practise the big flight. We went outside for the last time, lured him out of the cage and off he went. Over the neighbour's wall into their garden. I haven't seen him since, but like any good 'parent' I left the cage outside with food and water if necessary.

I am not sad, it is not like when those others had died due to our lack of knowledge. Now, I think we did a good deed and helped another living creature to a second chance in life.

Torn between two cities

When I visited Sevilla for the first time, now around 2 1/2 years ago, I was with my parents for a mini break, while I was going through my divorce. They had planned a trip to Spain for ages with a friend of my dad and I decided last minute that I wanted to tag along. So we had travelled by car with said friend from Holland all the way through boring France and I was super excited to be in Spain for the first time in my life. We had visited several places along the way and the plan was to spend 5 nights in Sevilla. Wow, what a city. I remembered getting out of the car and smelling oranges! Sadly, over time I have gotten used to the scent, so I don't notice it anymore.

I loved being there more than anything, and after the 5 day visit I told my parents that I will come back to this city, no matter what. That I didn't know how, when or with who, but I would.
Little did I know that I would meet Miguel, love of my life, 7 months later. Little did I know that he lived close to Sevilla and that I would come to visit him, landing in Sevilla, never to return again.

Still I experience that magic that Sevilla has, when I visit. I get all tingly inside when I see the bridge, later followed by the wide open streets with the palmtrees on the side. Part of me doesn't want to live IN the city, maybe afraid of losing that magic. I love the place where I live now, a little coast-town named Rota and I only have to walk my street to see the beach. I love it too, because I brought my dog to Spain, and I feel that in Sevilla we cannot live comfortable with two big dogs. That means going to a house in the suburbs, which kinda looses the idea of living in the city itself.

The deal is quite good though, we visit Sevilla and friends more during spring, autumn and winter, and our friends visit us in spring, summer and autumn. In Sevilla, it's ridiculously hot in the summer, with temperatures reaching 50ºC, and the town where I live, it's windy, cold and boring in winter.

When spring arrives, Rota comes to life. Kids on bikes and scooters, usually in shorts or bikini's, depending on gender ofcourse. People are outside, usually eating in bars, the chiringuito's open, which could be compared to Tiki-bars, where food and cocktails are served. Parties happen everywhere, beaches become crowded by tourist, I start to hear English, German and Dutch and I laugh because the people have no idea how stereotype they are for their countries.
It makes my feel like I have a secret. That I know something noboday knows, because I get to live here all year round, whereas most come to visit for 2 weeks holiday.