Ahem. It’s me again. Tail between my legs having not posted since, what, April? That’s horrendous. I apologize. Sometimes life gets in the way of keeping a blog up to date.

So - what’s been happening in the world of whangdoodleland? Well, what hasn’t! I’ve managed 34 flights this year - all but 7 on Ryanair. I love Ryanair. I can’t fault them for the value for money they offer. Once you get the whole ‘pack light’ thing down, it’s brilliant! Yes, my carbon footprint is huge. I’ll plant a tree or something.

I managed to finally get back to the US twice this year. Like buses - I haven’t been back in 9 years and suddenly two trips pop up at once. Relatively. I hit San Francisco, Los Gatos, San Jose, Detroit, Toronto, and all various places in between. I caught up with folks I haven’t seen in years and met new people all over the place as well. I will admit, I miss the US sometimes. Everywhere has it’s faults, but the opportunities that the US offers can sometimes outweigh its disadvantages.

Website-wise, I’ve set up a few new sites. Have a look at 21dots for more information on my band. Our first release is available on iTunes (and how weird is THAT to see myself on iTunes!).

I’m also focussing a lot on my publication design at the moment, have a look at wr3n.com for more info on that.

As for the whole ‘living in Spain’ thing. Still here. With the economic ‘crisis’ it’s been apparent that the bubble has burst over here. Of course, the Spanish government seems to be impersonating a ostrich with it’s burying the head in the sand approach. Although it would be nice to believe that the worst is over, I have my own doubts. I’m convinced that the European Summit that met earlier this year in London all got together and said ‘Hey - all this doom and gloom is getting us no where. No one is spending money! Let’s tell everyone the recession is over! And all will be better.’ So that’s what they did. Some people, more fools them, have even believed it.

With 2010 looming upon us (that’s an understatement, with it being New Year’s Day tomorrow and all), I’m hoping that this year brings more excitement and prosperity for all that deserve it. I could say I will make a resolution to keep this blog better updated, but we all know that won’t happen. Resolutions are usually broken. But in general, I’ll make an effort - it’s not like I’ve forgotten how to update it or anything…

We went on holiday once to Mallorca, just for a long weekend. It was a few years ago now, and we went sort of to celebrate Steve’s birthday (which is tomorrow, actually!). We ended up flying back with our cat, Inca, a Burmilla rescue cat from the town of Inca (funnily enough…). I would love to go back - having done even more research into the islands. Like I found out there’s a Garlic and Shots restaurant in Palma. Seeing as Garlic and Shots is one of my favourite bars/restaurants in Soho, London. I try to get there as often as possible, if not for a meal, then at least to sample one of their 101 shots in the bar downstairs.

We stayed in Alcudia, in an aparthotel sort of thing in the modern bit. But we had a car so didn’t stick around. It was in the off season so it was a cheap weekend break through lastminute.com. I think that might have been the last ‘proper holiday’ we’ve had and it was at least 3 years ago. Time to go somewhere again, I think!

But every now and then, I want to mention something about the trials and tribulations of living in Spain. Things that irk me, like bank charges and insurance. All those things that are irksome no matter where you live, but slightly more so when you are dealing with things in a foreign language.

I received my ‘quote’ for the home insurance last week. Well, as it’s Spain, it’s not so much a quote but rather a ‘we’ll be removing this amount of money from your bank account in a few days unless you get off your arse and jump over hoops to tell us not to’. Actually - to get the letter -before- the money was taken out of the account is a bonus. Normally I get my bills about a week after the money has left, so I guess that’s progress.

The insurance had increased by about 70 euros a year - about 25%. Kind of a lot, dontcha think? So I decided to look around. And as Linea Directa (the Spanish arm of Direct Line) had come through with reasonable prices for my motorbike and car insurance, I decided to try them. Online quoting system was much easier than popping into my bank down the road and querying their costs. Can you believe that the price came in at about 300 euros CHEAPER than the insurance that I currently have? I mean, I expected perhaps I could save 50 euros or so. Would I have switched if it were that small amount? I doubt it. But 300 euros!? Come ON!

It reminds me of when I first started getting bike insurance quotes through the gestor. And when I asked for a quote, I would get one (very overpriced) and they would proceed to fill out the paperwork, assuming that as I asked for a price, clearly I needed insurance and who the hell shops around in this country? No one, it would seem.

So I contracted insurance with Linea Directa, who told me to recommend them to my friends (which, obviously, I’m doing! Tell them I sent you!). The paperwork came by email about a half hour later. The following day I went to my bank to tell them not to renew the amazingly high priced insurance and they said ‘Oh, well. You need to provide us with proof…’ and I cut her off by presenting the paperwork that Linea Directa had emailed. “Oh.” So no excuses, no trying to get my business back, just a raised eyebrow that The Foreigner had managed to secure a better deal and didn’t just pay the amount for an easy life.

I’m sure it’s a culture thing and I’ll bet I’ve mentioned it before somewhere. Where in the US and UK we are used to, and even encouraged, to shop around, here in Spain it seems that you pay the price on the tin. Shopping for a new vacuum cleaner? That Dyson will be the same price at every single shop in town. And even out of town. Before the likes of the online retailers/providers like Linea Directa and Pixmania, if you wanted anything, there was no point in driving around searching for a better deal. And the culture still remains the same. You need some windows for your house? Go to the guy who makes windows and ask him. He’ll be surprised if you ask for a quote first. You need windows. He makes windows. You’ll get them from him no matter what, won’t you? (Well, no actually…)

I’m not a big fan of banks and insurance at the best of times, but when it’s clear that they are trying to take the piss - I can feel pretty damn smug about telling them exactly where to get off by taking my business elsewhere. And I’m glad that finally, there IS somewhere to take my business to.

Happy New Year! (Shot of L’Estartit on New Year’s Day above.)

And here I am again - delayed with the posting as usual!

I’ve been busy with creating a few websites actually - including one for some friends running a scuba diving centre in Menorca called Blue Islands Diving. Makes me want to try scuba diving, which I’ve never ever done. Or even snorkling! I can’t believe I live 7 kilometres from the beautiful Medes Islands and L’Estartit - a haven for scuba divers - and I’ve never even ventured out. Must remedy that sometime soon.

In other news, The Spurts have a gig going in February at the Dirty Water club in North London. That should be a good laugh. It used to be an old haunt of ours when we lived in Holloway so it’ll be quite fun to actually perform there! 2009 looks like it’ll be a fun year for music and stuff, so looking forward to that.

We’ve been to a few gigs in the past couple of weeks.

In December, we saw the fabulous Al and the Black Cats in Barcelona. Those guys are awesome. If you get a chance to see them, go! The energy these young guys put into their concert really got the crowd going. And they are from Michigan, USA - which obviously breeds a lot of talented musicians - our friends Choking Susan are also from Michigan. Is it something in the water out there? I’ve put up a few videos of Al and the Black Cats as well over at google video so have a look but make sure to go see them in concert sometime. Apparently they are always on the road.

We also went to Barcelona to watch the Atomic Leopards. But we missed them. And here comes my little moan to spanish promoters: PROMOTE! I mean, the poster for the concert which Ste only happened to come across on myspace said 10pm. So, having learned our lesson countless times before about showing up at a gig too early here in Spain (usually anytime before midnight…), we aimed to get there for 11pm. But then we got lost. (Note to self: buy GPS system!) So when we finally walked into the Big Bang Bar in Barcelona we were a bit surprised to find a packed bar but no band. We asked the DJ where the band was and he replied, “Oh - they played at 9pm. The doors opened at 8. They finished around 10pm and left.” How very un-spanish. What the hell is going on!?

A few days later we went to Macanet de la Selva with slight intrepidation to see the Hollywood Sinners. Luckily, the town isn’t quite as far away as Barcelona so we ventured out for about 11pm. The band started around 12:30 - like they should here in Spain! Great band with a wild performance… well, at least the audience was rather wild. More pictures over at my flickr page of course!

Other stuff? Well, I’m still learning how to play double bass although it tears up my fingers something rotten until I get some softer strings. I’ve even been heard singing on a few tunes with our other band. (Ahem.) I still haven’t brought myself to get a new MacBook Pro although with the current exchange rate as it is, it’s actually a lot cheaper to buy it in the UK than in Spain. Never thought that would happen.

I have no comment on the current ‘credit crunch’ - except it was clear it was going to happen and why the heck didn’t all the builders ’round here realize that? The amount of empty flats and houses for sale is incredible. The lot next door to us is now a muddy swamp. It’s been 2 years since they knocked those houses down and I’ll bet the builder is kicking himself… As a note to that previous post from 2 years ago - yes, the mayor was voted out as predicted.

And I leave you with this picture, which I took while on the London Underground a few weeks ago. I like the fact that, according to the sign, the British Transport Police will be sending out helicopters to arrest vandalisers. On the Tube. Underground. I had half a mind to spray paint graffiti just to see a helicopter arrive on the Circle line.

Let’s see:

April: The Spurts played in Brighton.


May: We went to the Screamin’ Festival in Pineda de Mar for a long weekend.


June: I went to the Rockabilly Rave in Camber Sands and had a blast. Don’t ask me what bands played though.
Later that month, Ste and I went to the Psychobilly Festival in Pineda de Mar. But just for 1 night to see the Long Tall Texans play and a few other bands. That was enough - we’d never have survived longer!



July: We kidnapped Theo from the LTT and held him and the rest of the entourage hostage at our house and The Spurts played at local Mariscal Club in Estartit. There were no complaints. About the gig OR the kidnapping, actually. There was a lot of sun, wine, beer, debauchery, late nights, early mornings (Suvi!!), hangovers and sunburns. It was exhausting, of course, but we can’t wait until they come back. Gluttons for punishment some might say.




August: The fabulous Choking Susan showed up at our house to invade for an evening. They played at Mariscal in Estartit as well, supported by Viki Vortex and the Cumshots’ debut gig. It was a good night, and morning. Our neighbours even mentioned how happy we sounded at 6 in the morning out on the terrace. But in a good way. Steve then hopped into their van and went to the Rebellion Punk Festival up in Blackpool. He survived and enjoyed it. Apparently Choking Susan didn’t complain either - at least not to him!



End of August: The Spurts played the 12 Bar Club in London. WaHEY! And then we hit Dingwalls (not to play, that is) and loved it, catching up with a lot of old friends and new ones. Yes, that was exhausting as well.


September: We hit High Rockabilly in Calafell for the afternoon. Notice our weekends away get shorter and shorter. Phew.


October: More quite than previous months. Although I managed to see the Long Tall Texans at Bar Monsta in Camden, The Hotknives at the Buffalo Bar, and I’m sure there were a few other bands that weekend as well. It was a tough weekend. Went to a friend’s surprise party as well, which WAS a total surprise to her. Hah! Love that.


November: Was supposed to go to the Speedfreaks Ball but it was cancelled! So a psychobilly all-dayer was organized in Brighton so we went over to the UK anyway. We also had a rehearsal with The Spurts with Theo again. Had a brilliant weekend shopping, seeing bands, catching up, relaxing, etc. At the end of the month Ste and I went down to Barcelona for a night. And it was bloody expensive! What happened!? We had a good time in the end, but it was very quiet… relatively.


December: And here we are in December. Who knows what we have planned! But I will try to update this site more often from now on. But my excuses are pretty good, no?

I’m sure the Costa del Sol has something going for it. Admittedly, I was there for the music, the party and the friends. I certainly wasn’t there to sight-see, or dine in fine restaurants, or hang out on the beach. (Thank god! I would have been sadly disappointed!) But I have to wonder about the masses of people who WERE there, in February, on their 1 or 2 week holiday at some all-inclusive hotel with nightly entertainment. It was busy - and not just with people there for the festival. But I’m digressing. Clearly, the food in Catalunya is much better. I mean, we’ve got El Bulli, it HAS to be good! But, even in the tourist centres of L’Estartit and Lloret del Mar, you can find a decent, local menu del dia or whatnot. But down in Torremolinos? We were hard-pressed to find anything other than chinese restaurants, pizza joints and burger bars. The place appears to have lost its identity in pursuit of the tourist, which I find rather sad. The town is made up of apartment blocks, hotels and badly designed shops all in horrid 60s buildings. Perhaps we missed the ‘old town’ or something, but as far as I could see, from the taxi rides and walking, there wasn’t one!

Anyway, so what? We went down to the Rockin’ Race Jamboree for the first time and had a blast. I saw Bill Haley’s Comets (who put on a fantastic show - they’re drummer is 84, y’know..), also saw them outside singing at the hotel as well on monday morning while waiting for at taxi to the airport - which was a bonus. Barrence Whitfield put on a great show as did all the other bands, I’m sure. Although I wasn’t paying much attention - sorry. The Space Cadets did a fabulous show at about 4 in the morning on saturday night/sunday morning - and I got some brilliant pics, finally.. but, in general, I was too busy having fun to bother taking out my camera to snap photos. I wish someone would invent a camera that automatically took pics from my handbag or something. Because I just can’t be arsed.

But the difference for me, in living in Catalunya and speaking Catalan, is that I didn’t first start out with learning Spanish. I went straight into learning Catalan - thinking I should speak the local language and that would expedite the entire ‘fitting in’ process. It hasn’t really worked.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. The reactions I get from being able to speak Catalan to the locals is marvelous. They tend to be surprised, then impressed and pleased. And then a bit shocked when I say I don’t actually speak Spanish - yet. Usually it’s the reverse. Foreigners come here and, if they have any intention of learning the language, they will learn Spanish. Sometimes, after a few years, they might pick up a few words of Catalan, but more times than not - they will stick with Spanish. After all, everyone understand Spanish.

But I’ve been feeling the annoyance of learning Catalan lately. There are a lot of immigrants here - many from South America - and of course, they speak Spanish, not Catalan. I understand, more or less, but still respond in Catalan, I have no choice.

The other day, the landline stopped working. So I popped onto Telefonica’s website (which I choose to navigate in Catalan, btw) and filled a report that my phone was broken. To their credit, they rang the following day to confirm there was a problem and told me an engineer would be on his way. A few hours later, an engineer rang and said he’d be over in half an hour. Two guys showed up and fixed the phone. One complimented me on my Catalan, no less. Everything was fine - the system worked perfectly.

Then a couple days later, Telefonica rang again. They wanted to check if everything was okay with the line. Oh yes, I replied, the engineers came and fixed it, thank you very much! “Que?” The woman on the other end spoke Spanish. I explained again, everything is fine. No problems now! “Que?” She then asked if I spoke Spanish. I replied, no, sorry. Just Catalan or English. Well, she said haughtily, you live in Spain. And then she hung up on me.

Telefonica advertises that, even as a national company, they offer service in all the local languages. But clearly this only works if I call them and choose to speak to a catalan-speaking operator. When they phone me, this option isn’t available. Fair enough - but to the point of being rude and hanging up on me, well, that just sucks.

So what’s the solution? I don’t know. I’m sure this problem is common for a number of foreigners living here. Some paperwork is in Catalan and some in Spanish. Some service centres deal in Spanish, some in Catalan. When I’m out with friends, some of whom speak Spanish, yes - it’s a pain in the arse. I would love to say I know both languages - but my small brain can only handle learning one language at a time. Did I make a mistake learning Catalan first?

And a Happy New Year and the like to all of you! The above pic taken on Christmas Eve in L’Escala. I just love the view of the sea and beaches of L’Escala with the snow-capped Pyrenees in the background.

December was clearly a busy month. We nipped over to the UK at the beginning as I’d booked flights to Bournemouth for a total cost of 4 cents a few months back. I reasoned that if we didn’t go, it was only 4 cents lost so I’d booked them. Of course, we went, and spent far too much money - as you do at Christmas time in the UK! Ah well. The Spurts had a brilliant rehearsal, with Theo from the Long Tall Texans filling in on drums. Consequently, each song was about half the length of normal and we all collapsed at the end from playing so fast. Oh, all right, we didn’t - we just went to the pub.

While in the UK, I managed to get over to the Tate Modern to see the Louise Bourgeois exhibition. I have mixed feelings about the Tate Modern, I have to admit. On one hand, I love the exhibitions and going to galleries and losing myself in amongst the art is a favourite thing to do on a sunday afternoon. But the cynical part of me wants to scream ‘But this is art??’.

The big crack by Colombian artist Doris Salcedo, entitled Shibboleth, in the Turbine hall, although impressive to see, was just that, a giant crack. Perhaps I’m cynical, having lived in earthquake-prone California, and a crack in the floor of a big building is merely a sign that the building wasn’t earthquake-proofed? But had I known at the time (and perhaps I just missed the information - likely), that Shibboleth is a word from the Old Testament that means, basically, to separate one from another, then perhaps I would have had a different reaction. According to the artist, the crack represents ‘the gap between humanity and inhumanity - a bottomless division.’ Now it makes sense.

Before reading this article, I was unsure whether the statement the ‘art’ was making was the actual crack, or the fact that so many people seemed fascinated by it. Saying all that - sometimes art can be reduced to a clever copywriter - create something rather mundane, but then entitle it with a fancy name and attribute some deeper meaning, and you have an exhibit. Without the description and ‘meaning’, you just have an artist’s dropcloth or a big crack in the floor.

In music news.. (hehe), we saw The Educators play at Bar Tramit in La Bisbal which was a highly entertaining show. They put on a great show and if you ever have the chance to see them perform, go!

We went down to El Moli in La Roca des Valles to see a couple punk bands play on Boxing Day, The Leftovers from Portland, Maine and the Accelerators from Rotterdamn.

We also finally made it to Mariscal’s rock bar in Estartit. FIVE years we’ve lived here and this was the first time we’ve been - to see an AC/DC cover band called Highway to Hell from Barcelona, no less! It’s a great bar, reminds me of an american rock bar, which is always nice (to me!). So I can imagine we’ll be heading down there more often. I just wish they would update their website with dates more often as we usually find the posters in town the day after some brilliant band has played. Typical.

Tonight we are planning on seeing The Rock n Roll Brothers in Verges. They played at Torroella’s Festa Major last year and put on a brilliant show as well. WooHOO!

And I leave you with this picture… who knew that you can now purchase tickets for future travel at Euston Station, eh? That’s progress!!

Darn those cheap Ryanair flights. What a great city. But, would you believe, I was in Newcastle for 3 days and didn’t step into a pub - nor did any beer pass my lips. How weird is -that-? I’ll have to go back. A few more pics at flickr.