Baby The Stars Shine Bright

Bea and I were out last night, getting home at around 11. As I stepped out of the car, I looked up at the sky and saw more stars than I've ever seen before. The inky black sky was flooded with twinkling gems and it was a sight to behold.

I can't wait for the weather to get warmer so I can lie out on our flat roof at night and watch the moon and stars in our valley of darkness.

Get A Move On

As I glanced over my last day's writing, I smiled to myself. I thought that it was only when I went overseas that I found the beginning challenging. I had forgotten how I was when I returned to London after 8 years away, to start a new life there.

I imagined that as I was returning to my home city things would magically fall into place, I'd be coming back to a life that already existed. But I was like anyone else turning up in the city for the first time. I had to find work, somewhere to live, make friends and start a social life from scratch. It wasn't going to be any easier for me, just because I was from London. 

I remember feeling incredibly impatient, wanting to feel settled and sorted but knowing it would take time. The title to this entry "Get A Move On" is the title of a song by Mr Scruff. I used to listen to it a lot in the early years. Both the title and the tempo capture my mood exactly at that time - I was in a hurry to get to a place that you can't necessarily get to quickly. I was like that as a child, trying to make things happen more quickly than they should. Once at school, we had to plant some maize seeds and watch them grow. My impatience meant that I couldn't resist digging around in the soil to see how they were growing. I mistook the roots for shoots and worried that my plants were all growing in the wrong direction, painstakingly turned every seed upside down so that the roots were facing upwards, out of the soil. Not surprisingly, all my "shoots" withered and died. 

Luckily I gained a little wisdom over the years. Although still as impatient as when I was a child, I knew that some things take time. You have to plant the seeds, put in the work looking after them and wait for them to germinate. You can't speed it up or expect things to work out wonderfully without putting a lot in. As it was, things fell into place very quickly in London. I got a job at the Foreign Office within weeks of arriving in the city and found somewhere to live a little while later. I met some wonderful people, made some great friends and found myself at some of the best parties in London. 

Now in Ibiza, I'm just about to start sowing my seeds again. These seeds will lead to work, which means being able to stay on the island. I know what has to be done, the effort that needs to be put in and soon I should be reaping the rewards!

Catch up

My last blog, posted on my .mac page was back in January, before I set off for a new life in Ibiza. Since then, although I've been tapping away, I've not been able to publish my posts. Something doesn't work, I think it may have something to do with internet connections out in the countryside. So, I've swopped blog sites and find myself here. I'm going to see if I can cut and paste all previous posts - anyone interested in reading what went up on the original blog, you can read it at http://web.mac.com/azrazakir/Site/Blog.html

A healthy dose of sunshine.....  Thursday 21 February 2008

.....works wonders for the soul! Yes, that's right, I'm sitting on the porch bathed in sunshine, basking in it just like the cats. The sky is that beautiful blue I love, there are a few clouds billowing around and the only place I want to be is where I am. Okay, so a fly has just fallen into my drink but I've fished it out and I'm sure the drink isn't ruined.

I'm at the house for a few days on my own now as Bea has gone to Minorca for a long weekend. If the weather continues like this, it'll be bliss even though I'll be on my own. If the weather is cold, grey and dreary like it has been for the last few days, I'll be counting on the cats to cheer me up.

I'm getting used to things here, getting used to the house and the challenges it presents. You just have to adjust your thinking, remain a bit flexible and accept that you've left behind some of the luxuries of city living. The house is cold during the day - I'm sure we'll be grateful for that in the heat of August. I've got used to living in the colder environment, although both Bea and I pile on the layers and we're now called the "onion girls". Although at present I've peeled off most of the layers and am enjoying the sunshine. 

I've yet to drive at night. I'm still getting used to driving on steep windy roads. When I drive back to the house in the countryside, there's one point where you turn into a sharp corner and you've got a valley covered in pine trees in front of you, a sharp drop down below. The perspective of the trees and the sheer drop always makes me go a bit wobbly when I see it. But I also know I'm nearly home. I drive round on empty roads, weaving from one place to another. The soil is a gorgeous reddy brown colour, really rich and lucious, things grow well up here. I always thought it was difficult to grow anything on Ibiza but that's only down in the south, near the salt flats of Salinas. Up here things grow in abundance and we've got plans to grow herbs and vegetables in the garden. I've longed to have a garden for years, to try my hand at growing things. Now I'll get my chance. 

I've come to accept that every time I move overseas, the first few weeks are always a challenge. Some people turn up in a place and things magically fall into place. That's never been the case for me. When I first went overseas, on a student exchange to Denver, I left behind a life I knew and someone I thought I was in love with. The first few weeks were difficult. I kept a diary for about six weeks and I'm so glad I did. My words recall in minute detail all the ups and downs I was going through. When I went off to France the following year, I was nursing a broken heart and trying to understand why my love story had gone wrong. I was feeling fragile and found myself sharing a room with a girl who was never going to become a friend. But the moment I felt better, stronger, bigger, I met someone who remains one of the most inspiring people I have ever come across. The rest of my time in France can only be described as magical!

A year later I went off to work in Japan. I arrived at the house where I was supposed to live, the house where my predecessor had lived for three years. It was old and dark and filthy dirty, with a toilet that was just a pit. A pit that you could clearly see in to and I had nightmares of falling in to. I refused to use the toilet, although I tried hard to adapt to the rest of the house. In the end, I had to make the difficult decision of telling my work place that if I couldn't move, I'd be returning to London. They tried to make me stay there but in the end relented and helped me find a little house in the next town that was home for three, happy years.  

I'd love it if my overseas adventures were blissfully easy from the start. But having things a little difficult in the beginning means that when things improve (and they always do and usually quite quickly), you can appreciate every little thing that much more as you've got a point of reference to compare it with. If things were easy and brilliant from the moment I arrived, I'd be less aware of the things I'm lucky to have - notably Bea and Red. As things improve, I'd be less touched by them, the change less acute. So, even though there are things I struggle with here, I know there are many things I'm very lucky to have, know that I've landed on my feet with some of the most important things. I look forward to feeling really settled on the island and seeing things magically fall into place....

Tiptoeing around....  Wednesday 20 February 2008

In the quiet of the countryside, you're more acutely aware of your moods, of how you're feeling any any given moment. It's as if the frantic pace of city life can hide you from yourself, you're never too sure how you're feeling as you never have the peace and quiet to feel it and find out. 

My current mood can only be described as tiptoeing around the things I should be doing. I recognise this feeling, have known it numerous times before. It's when you know you have to take action but you sidestep around the task. I remember it clearly from my days at the Foreign Office. I knew I wasn't happy there, knew I wanted to move to a consultancy. But the actual task of writing speculative letters - I skirted around. However, when I backed myself into a corner and had to take action, I did. Of the three speculative letters I wrote, one produced an immediate phone call and invitation for an interview. Within two and a half months I was working at Bell Pottinger Consultants, in a job that had been created to accommodate me. 

There are a few things I know I should be doing. Number one is learning Spanish. Number two is starting to build contacts with people who could be useful in finding work. I find myself taking it easy, not doing either. I'm like a crab, moving sideways, one way and then the other but not going forwards. I'm trying to work out how much of this is because at the moment all I want to do is be calm and quiet and still and build up depleted reserves of energy. I'm allowing myself until the end of February to get settled and then dive in. I've got to go and make contact with all the main estate agents on the island. I know this will be the thing that I approach with most reluctance, although it could be the most useful in leading to work. I always drag my heels when going in the direction of something where I could face endless rejection. I'd have made a terrible actor, someone who had to constantly audition for work. Thing is, I've never experienced endless rejection so I'm not sure why I move with such reluctance. Perhaps if I just dived in and got on with it, things would fall beautifully into place, as they always do. 

Perhaps I'm being unduly hard on myself. I have to give myself some time to find my feet here. Some people love turning up in a place where everything is new and every day-to-day task is an adventure. That's not me. My home environment needs to feel settled and ordered for me to function well. I like lots of change and challenge outside of the home. But home needs to be a comfort for me. Currently I'm working out how to post letters, do the laundry, where to find kindling for the fire. Each day presents a new challenge and each day you achieve quite a lot. 

I've got my iPod on shuffle, over 8,000 songs to get through. Jean Carn's "Time waits for no-one" has just come on - it's like listening to the best, most eclectic radio station. Anyway, the song title is most apt for rousing me into action. I'm off to study a bit of Spanish now!

On taking it in your stride.....   Monday 18 February 2008

After Fridays entry on taking it all in your stride and not letting things upset you, the weekend threw two things to check my progress.

On Saturday morning, I stepped out of the house to feed the cats. Bea normally feeds them but she was already at Sant Gordi Market and I was going to join her there. One of the perils (or joys) of living in the countryside is that sometimes you step out in attire you'd never be seen in outside of your front door in London. I went to feed the cats in pyjamas and slippers. After feeding them, I walked back round to the front door and realised I'd locked myself out. Normally this is not a problem as there is a spare key hidden in the garden. But I'd left my key in the door inside which effectively locked the door and the spare key didn't work. I found myself outside, unable to do anything. I couldn't go anywhere, couldn't call anyone, couldn't even sit in the van as the keys were inside. All I could do was sit on the porch in the sunshine and wait for Bea to come home. 

I passed the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon sunning myself on the porch, Red keeping me company as I whiled away the time. My old copy of the Observer was on the porch so I read that, grateful that after five days of cold weather, I could bask in the sunshine. Instead of getting upset by this turn of events, I thought that maybe what I needed to do was just hang out and take it easy. Although things haven't been going at a frantic pace since I arrived, I know I haven't had a day's rest so perhaps this was my way of doing that. 

Bea arrived in the afternoon and we had to break into the house. We'd make terrible burglars, it took us ages to break the glass and let ourselves in. She was very calm about the whole thing, I'm sure others may have got annoyed by what happened. All we have to do now is get the glass replaced and all is fine!

On Sunday, I spent the day in one of the local internet cafes and got through a tremendous amount of work. One of my main tasks has been to take songs off iTunes (there were over 11,000 on there) so I can sync up my iPod. I thought the iPod had sufficient memory to hold all my songs - it's meant to be able to hold 20,000 songs - but it was not to be. I'd already bought a hard drive for the computer and had backed up all of iTunes on there. I merrily deleted about 1,000 songs from the computer and deleted the trash to free up space on the computer. When I got home, I checked the spare hard drive only to find that I hadn't actually saved anything on there (I'm not very techy) so I'd just got rid of over 1000 songs. Oh well, I can't even remember what they were and there's no point crying over lost songs. Plus the excitement of getting just over eight and a half thousand songs onto the iPod soon made me forget the lost ones. The iPod is now on shuffle and I'm enjoying music that I own but perhaps have never listened to!

The first week in Ibiza -  Thursday 14 February 2008

I've been here a week now and it is a rollercoaster of emotions. When I woke up the first morning, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, looking at the spiders and cobwebs (the place needs a bit of a spring clean) and thought "I don't think I can do this, I don't think I can live here". I thought about calling James and seeing if I could rent a room in his flat for a few months, until I got myself sorted. But for each thing that makes you go "I can't do it", there will be two or three things that make you go "yes you can, it'll be worth it". 

The house is in a strikingly beautiful location, in a valley surrounded by fields of almond trees. Whichever direction you look, the landscape is stunning and it's good to be so close to nature. The house itself is shabby and a bit rundown but such immense potential. If the owner ever decides to sell, I'll be in the queue of people trying to buy. It could be turned into something truly special, the surroundings are priceless.

It takes quite a bit of adapting living in a house like this. Coming from my flat in London, everything was there at the flick of a switch. You didn't have to think about gas, electricity, heating, hot water - just pay your bills and it's all there for you. But here, we think of everything. The house is powered by solar panels but over the years, the system has deteriorated and now it doesn't work properly.

Electricity is limited and depends on how much sunshine there's been. At present, we're out of electricity as the weather has been cloudy for the last five days - we'll be living by candlelight tonight. Even when the sun has been shining and the electricity supply knows no bounds, we still have to think carefully about how we use things. Watching a DVD on the computer could mean no electricity for the generator that powers the hot water for the shower. A hot shower (even if it is just a dribble) takes priority over everything. I've got used to washing my face in cold water - I'm sure I read somewhere that it's good for the skin, something the Japanese swear by. And I can cope with washing dishes in cold water, so long as I don some rubber gloves. Luckily there is hot water for the shower but often it's just a dribble so it's a very quick shower in a cold room - I've taken to fantasising about long hot showers where you daydream as you get clean.

All the water we use gets recycled and used again. The water from washing the dishes goes out to water the garden. I love throwing out the big bowl of water over the plants. The toilet has no flush. Instead we save all the water from washing hands and faces, brushing teeth and showering. This is then used to "flush" the toilet. I have to admit, the bathroom is a bit smelly but I think that may be blocked drains, not blocked toilet.

As it's winter here, it's cold. I've taken to wearing layers of clothes, adding a dress size or two in padding. I'm looking forward to the weather getting warmer so I can shed the layers and look normal again. These are some of the challenges the house presents. However there are a number of great things about living here - these more than balance out the equation. The first is obviously the location - as I sit on the porch writing this, the three words that spring to mind are "peace, quiet and tranquility". I can hear a bee buzzing around, some birds chirping, the wind rustling through the leaves and that's it. After the hustle and bustle of city living, the peace and quiet is a welcome change.

Probably the best thing about living at the house and one that I've spent the last couple of days being grateful for is Bea, the Italian artist who also lives here. We get on really well and it's great spending time with her at the house. I feel very lucky - the chances of me getting on so well with a complete stranger I find myself living with are slim. The last time I lived with a complete stranger was back in 1991 when I moved to Denver. I lived with an American girl and we had nothing in common. It was just two strangers with no connection living in the same space, it's not unpleasant but there's no joy in it either. 

With Bea, it's completely different. We hit it off immediately and she's really helped me settle in. If I was living at the house alone, I would find it difficult, a real struggle with the electricity and hot water situation. But it's been okay. There are similarities in our personalities and we bounce off each other. As I write this, Bea is on the hunt for a generator to resolve our electricity issue - we've decided that this will make a big difference to our experience at the house and it's something worth paying for. 

The other thing I love about the house is living with the cats again. It's been a long while since I had a cat around me and I've really missed it. There are five cats who live at the house but I made friends with one straight away - in fact, he's curled up on my lap as I write this. His name's Red, although he is ginger. Red is a magnificent name for him, far better than "Ginger" or even "Orange" although they would be more apt. He looks like Cat from "Breakfast at Tiffany's" - we are firm friends and have been from my first day at the house.

Getting my room sorted made a big difference to feeling at home. As someone who works in interiors, it's easy to pull everything out of a room and start afresh to make it look beautiful. It's something else to work with what's already there, plus the things you've brought with you. It took a little time but the room now looks lovely, particularly when a shaft of sunlight slashes across the room. I've created displays from my belongings - bags on an old chair, rows of shoes on boxes that house my interiors magazines, piles of books. Metal boxes stacked one on top of the other, not only used to store items, they now serve an aesthetic purpose. In the space of a few days, I've realised that the mark of a good interiors person is to create beauty and comfort just with what you have. Perhaps here I've achieved that. 

As I sit here writing this, I feel calm and peaceful inside. It was a different story yesterday when I started writing. When small things don't work, it seems more of a hassle - I found myself getting really upset as there were things with my Mac that weren't working and I didn't know how to fix. Back in London, I'd know who to call, what to do - the Apple store is only a bus ride away. Here I have to find out everything from scratch. You learn to ride the waves, take the good with the bad and not let the minor upsets bother you too much. 

The sun is setting and it's nearly time to go in and start the wood fire. No central heating here - we have a wood burner which we have to clean and light every evening. You start to look at things in a different way - last night I experimented with boiling a saucepan of water on the wood burner as the top plate gets very hot. The experiment was a success and I made mint tea for Bea and me. But it took a long time and although I know it works, it's quicker to boil water on the stove. I'm tempted to see if I can fry eggs on there though!

I've arrived!    Saturday 9 February 2008

I've arrived in Ibiza and spent my first night here. I've got a room in a house in an area called Santa Agnes, out in the countryside. You have to drive up a dirt track to get to the house and the fields in front are full of rows of almond trees. I've caught the end of the blossom and the scenery is stunning.

The house belongs to D. She's currently in the US, due back at the end of March. Bea, an Italian artist, is living and working at the house too so I'm not alone. She's got a lovely vibe about her and we've hit it off well. We've already had ideas for some creative projects together - I'm looking forward to getting back to being creative again.

The house is lovely, albeit a bit scruffy. It's in beautiful surroundings and a world away from city life. I went to bed early last night and slept solidly for twelve hours. A good sign to sleep well. The house is run on solar energy which in itself is great. It's better for the environment and I did vote Green at the last elections after all. However, not all the panels are working properly so electricity is limited. Thoughts of using my hair dryer have been put aside and I'm working out how to wash my clothes as there is no washing machine. I've got so used to having all mod cons at my fingertips so there is quite a lot I have to adjust to. Not just living in a new country, but living in quite a different way too. It's no bad thing having to think about how you use things and the impact it has on the environment.

In the bathroom, there isn't a flush for the toilet. You save the water from washing your hands, brushing you teeth and taking a shower and use the water to flush the toilet. This is all good for the environment and things I can adapt to. I've not taken a shower yet and this could be the deciding factor as to whether I stay at the house or not. If I can't take a proper shower, quick but hot, I'm not sure I can live here. I can adapt in many other ways but a shower once a day is essential to my general well-being. I've come here for a better quality of life but I'd still like to feel clean every day! 

LPG vs Unleaded : The War Of The Fuels - Tuesday 5 February 2008

My van is dual-fuel. I can drive it on either LPG or unleaded. I tend to favour LPG - it's half the price of petrol and better for the environment.

Prior to setting off on the drive from London to Ibiza, I filled up both tanks in preparation for the journey ahead. The first day was spent driving on LPG. I was a little concerned how the van would cope with the load in the back as it's always been a struggle driving up hills. As soon as we got to Calais and started the journey down to Paris, I noticed that on any hills, even very slight, the van would lose speed rapidly. I found myself constantly shifting gears, going up and down. I put it down to the large load in the back. Even though I'd packed lightly (or so I thought), the back was still full of my possessions. I would have to pootle along in the outside lane. Over-taking was completely out of the question. 

As we drove past service stations, I saw that lots of them stocked LPG (or GPL as it's called in France). I'd be able to fill up again once the tank was empty. Once we were on the road again after our first night in France, we pulled into the first service station that stocked LPG so I could fill up. But the nozzle in the UK and Europe is different (and they have to fit exactly), so that meant no more LPG for me. It would have to be Unleaded all the way. I've done all previous motorway driving on LPG in an attempt to be green and keep costs down. It was a blow to find out the journey would now cost double the money but there was nothing I could do. 

We continued down, expertly navigated our way around Paris and found the national road that goes south. Friends had recommended driving on the national roads instead of the motorway as they are far more scenic and free - a lot of the motorway stretches are toll roads. We drove through stunning countryside either side of us. Although the weather was grey and dreary, the scenery was beautiful. All was going well, we were making good progress on the national road. Then somehow we found ourselves on the motorway and going much faster. It wasn't such a bad thing as we wanted to get from Beauvais (north of Paris) down to Bordeaux in a day - probably impossible on the national roads.

Back on the motorway, the van felt like a different vehicle. It felt solid and powerful and I found we could go uphill without losing speed, in fact we could go faster if I wanted. Suddenly we were no longer pootling along in the outside lane. I was overtaking lorries on a regular basis and felt confident in the van's ability to do so, even with the enormous load in the back. I started wondering why this was. Then it dawned on me - this was the first time in five years that I'd driven the van on a motorway on Unleaded. The difference was spectacular. I'd always thought my van just wasn't very powerful, particularly going up hills. But all along it was because of the LPG. Once in Ibiza, if I can still use LPG, I will. But as I've learnt, I'll have to forsake performance to help the environment (and my pocket). Not to worry, I don't think there will be much motorway driving in Ibiza!

One final point - dual carriage motorways make for more considerate drivers. There's no hogging the lane you're in. Everyone drives in the outside lane. As you approach a slower vehicle, you nip into the outside lane and then nip straight back over again. It all feels very polite. 

Packing up a decade's worth of life - Monday 4 February 2008

It took longer, much longer than I anticipated. I'd set aside a week to pack everything up before moving to Ibiza. But as I hadn't seen everyone I wanted to see, I had to steal into that week to try and see friends. Coupled with a vicious bout of food poisoning on what should have been my last day at work (so I had to make the time up in my "packing week"), I ended up with four full days to get packed up.

It was a gigantic task. Packing, lifting, carrying, moving and sorting - as I'd been in my flat for eight years, I had little idea exactly how much stuff I had and how long it would take to pack. I woefully underestimated the task in hand - my friend Daryl had been concerned at my nonchalant attitude to packing a few weeks prior to departure. I think I made a comment along the lines of "packing, that won't take long...." - how wrong I was! It also didn't cross my mind to ask anyone to help. But maybe that wasn't such a bad thing - if anyone had seen the chaos of the flat in the last few weeks, their concern at how much there was to be done would have made me nervous.

Anyway, I managed it and got everything done. I ended up having to cancel seeing some friends which made me sad but I realised that from Wednesday onwards, I needed to spend each and every hour preparing to go. Any gallavanting would have to cease. It left me exhausted but it was one of those times when you know you're tired but you can't stop, there's just too much to do. I've worked through my list of things that needed to be done, packed up my life and now I'm en-route. It feels like I'm on holiday, taking a road trip with Carole through France and Spain. I'm sure this huge life change will hit me at some point, I just don't know when that will be....