The wedding....

There's meant to be a funny family wedding photo with this post but I'm not sure where it's disappeared to, hopefully it will make an appearance soon!

This post should have been done a week ago but kitten drama meant it's been left until now. As I mentioned in previous posts, I went back to London for my brother's wedding. As one of my friends said "I bet you didn't think your younger brother would get married before you!". This is true but hopefully it'll be my turn soon, very soon - and what a massive party that will be!

Anyway, I digress. My brother's wedding took place on Sunday 3rd August in east London, also my mum's 70th birthday party. My brother's fairly religious and the girl he married, Rubina, is even more religious. So as you can imagine, the wedding was a very religious affair.

I got back to London the Monday before the wedding and stayed at my parents' house. I haven't stayed overnight there for about ten years and it's funny how nothing changes. Being back in the family, I immediately went back into second child position, with my older sister taking charge over certain things and being the boss. Thing is, her way of organising things and my way are totally different and so this caused friction but I guess that's families for you. I got into trouble for going and catching up with my closest friends but if I'd spent the whole time at my parents house, there would have been more explosions and arguments than there were anyway! It should have been a blessing that I wasn't there all the time but no it wasn't seen that way. I think people forgot that I actually still have a life in London, even though I live elsewhere and after the difficulties I'd been having in Ibiza, I just wanted to touch base with those who know me best!

Anyway, a couple of days before the wedding, we had to go to Rubina's house and bring back some of her stuff as she's moving into my parents' house where my brother still lives. We've always known her family are religious but didn't really know how much. I got a bit of a shock when we were loading up the cars and her sisters came out to help. Before they stepped out of the house, they put on their hijab and it was full hijab, one of those ones that covers their head, their face and only a narrow slit for the eyes. We jokingly call them "ninjas" but it was a bit unexpected to see that her sister were ninjas. I found myself wondering if Rubina was also a ninja.

As we'd been late turning up to their house on the Friday, we were told it was imperative that we all arrived on Sunday at 1200 as they wanted to start the ceremony promptly. We were also told that there was a big event going on near the wedding venue, there'd be lots of traffic and we should allow plenty of time. With all this in mind, the first car set off from Dulwich at 1030 with the other cars following close behind. We ended up arriving half an hour too early but that was okay as it meant that we could take family photos before we went into the venue. Once inside, it was completely segregated, men and women entering by different doorways and sitting in different rooms so it would have been impossible to take any family photos inside.

At 1200, we all entered the hall with men and women going into separate rooms. We walked in to find no one there apart from the people dressing the room who'd just started work. So much for a prompt 1200 start. We were in a school hall, with long tables and plastic chairs, plastic plates, cups and cutlery so it felt more like a child's birthday party, not a wedding. Finally the bride's family turned up and then eventually the bride herself.

We'd been told that no photography was allowed but I'd said in advance that we'd have our cameras there to take family photos and that seemed to be okay. After the wedding ceremony and lunch, our large family was made to clamber up onto the stage and sit with the bride for photos. Somebody was taking photo's from the bride's side and there was also a camera filming everything. I asked Rubina if we could use one of our cameras to take photos for the family and I was told "no". Then I asked if we could get copies of her photos for our family (seeing that we were in the photos) and once again I was told "no". By this point, I was a bit pissed off. Either there are no photos at all or there is one camera per side. But this extreme religiousness with no compromise is a bit of a problem for me. I stomped off the stage after the photos but then got called back for more photos. I went up eventually and sat on the edge looking like a stroppy teenager. My aunts got my attention from the floor and tried to make me behave a little better. I started pulling faces, made them laugh and I think it all got captured on camera!

Finally it was all over and we could go home. Rubina's sisters came to our house and were there in their ninja outfits. Once again I found myself wondering if my brother had married a ninja - it was a bit of a concern that we didn't actually know. After a while my brother and Rubina left for a central London hotel where they would be spending a couple of nights before returning to my parents' place.

The next day, my older sister Rahila organised a lunch for our family at her house. It was a way to get everyone together before people from overseas had to leave and return home. My brother and Rubina came and luckily she wasn't wearing a full ninja outfit so maybe she doesn't take it to that extreme. Something happened that made me feel very sad. My brother hadn't realised that breakfast was included with the room. All they saw was a card that said breakfast was around £13 per person. I'm not sure if he didn't have any money on him or found that a bit steep but they didn't have any breakfast that morning. This really saddened me, if you can't treat yourself on the first morning of married life, when can you treat yourself?

The lunch at Rahila's house was good fun and relaxed. I found the whole wedding thing really stressful as everyone gets involved and generally it's chaos! Fuses blow, tempers get frayed and it can be a bit too much. But the lunch was a great way to finish things and I returned back to my parents home feeling happy and relaxed. Then I saw the text about Simba and Tyke and everything got turned on it's head but these things happen and you never know what's around the corner. I'm just glad I didn't read the text until late that night as it was actually sent in the afternoon but I didn't check my phone. Thankfully!

Little Red

Little Red was at the house yesterday evening but the vet's was already closed for the day so I missed my Spanish class this morning and took her. She's not in great shape. The virus that killed the kittens has taken it's toll on her too. The vet's given her some medicine that's full of vitamins and other good things in a bid to give her a boost and get her eating again. All I can do is give her the stuff and hope she gets her appetite back again.

The kittens were always the thing that Bea and I disagreed upon. I guess people are different and she's not into cats the way that I am. When the first kitten died, I would have rushed both the other kitten and Little Red to the vet's to see what was going on. But she decided to wait and see what happened and what happened was that the other kitten died and Little Red is really ill. But she's not to blame as people are really different and for her the cats are a burden, for me a joy! Sadly our friendship had pretty much disintegrated by the time I left for London so everything that happened has been doubly difficult. I find it hard to be at the house, worrying about Little Red while she seems to be a bit indifferent. But then there are things I don't care too much about that are really important to her, I guess it's just what you're attached to, what's important in your world.

Come on Little Red, please get better soon!

My week in London which was intense, a real emotional roller coaster (even without the kitten tragedy) has been sidelined but I will write as there's a lot to write about!

Some heartbreaking news......

This is the most difficult post I've written and I'm in tears before I've even started.

On Monday night, my last night in London, I had a text from Bea to tell me that Simba and Tyke had both died while I was in London. Only earlier that afternoon I'd been telling my cousin about them, showing her photos, looking forward to seeing their little faces again and laughing at their silly antics. When I read the text I burst into tears and carried on crying late into the night. I cried all the way home on the plane and I'm sat here crying now - I'm feeling just a little bit heartbroken.

They'd had flu before I left for London. I'd taken them to the vet's to get inoculated and she took one look, said they had flu and gave them injections and flu medicine. They couldn't get inoculated until they were better again so it was the first thing I was going to do on my return to Ibiza. I gave them the medicine for a week, mixed in with some greek yoghurt and honey and watched them return to health. Little Red also had flu and so she got medicine too. She'd had symptoms for a while and now I'm kicking myself for not bringing her to the vet's earlier. I didn't bring her at all. Now I wish I had as the kittens had caught flu from her. But I didn't think we'd be able to use any "house" money for vet's bills and I wasn't in a position to pay for treatment for a cat that isn't mine. Stupidly I'd hoped she'd get better herself, as Bea always said "they're countryside cats, they don't need too much looking after" - how wrong she was.

When I left for London, they'd just finished their medicine and as you can see from the last photos I took, they were looking pretty healthy. I was going to take them for jabs as soon as I got back and had put aside the money for vet's bills so that I knew I had that. But apparently mid-week one of the kittens stopped eating and later started vomiting. He was found dead the next morning on one of the chairs. A few days later the same thing happened again and the second kitten was found dead in the front garden. My gorgeous little kittens are now buried in the garden, under an almond tree. I think they'd like that, they always liked climbing the almond trees.

When I got back last night, I found Little Red sitting alone on a chair on the front porch. She started purring when I stroked her. I found myself wondering if she was missing her babies like I was. She seemed very quiet and subdued. Normally when she sees me, she's all perky and calling out for food. This morning she didn't eat the dry cat food put out for all the cats. I thought she might prefer some Whiskas mixed with the dried food as she'd got used to eating that with the kittens. She wasn't interested in that either. Little Red walked away and then started calling for the babies with the special miaow she kept for them. Normally they'd come running when they heard it but not anymore. It was heartbreaking to see and hear. She looked a bit wobbly on her feet and walked into the next field and lay down. I went to see her, to see if she was okay.

I had to go out but came back as quickly as possible to take Little Red to the vet's. I haven't been able to find her, even though I spent ages calling for her. I think she may have held on for as long as possible but has now gone away to die in peace. When I was going through the garden calling out for her, Baggy joined me miaowing too, looking for his little family. He must be wondering where they've all gone.

I still can't believe they've gone. I know they were only kittens but I loved them and they gave me so much back. The last couple of months, when I'd been struggling with being in Ibiza and missing everyone in London, Simba and Tyke had been the entertaining pair who could be counted on to put a massive smile on my face with their antics. They were both cheeky little things, creating their own entertainment at all times. Unlike kittens who are cute and docile and spend most of their time lying around or sleeping, this pair were lively, naughty, adventurous rascals!

Simba and Tyke - thank you for all the wonderful times in your very short life. For participating in the sunset walks, for getting excited as soon as you saw me, for hurtling in my direction whenever I called out your names. You were both very special, very adorable and very much loved by me and Little Red and Uncle Baggy. I hope the place you find yourselves now is lots of fun, with plenty of trees to climb, butterflies to chase, shadows to pounce on and cool places to sleep when the sun's too hot. I hope you have fields to run around in and bales of hay to hide in. I wish I'd been there when you got ill again but sometimes things like this happen. I hope you enjoyed your short time here and had fun with me.

Simba and Tyke - RIP

In London

I'm back in London in London for just over a week for my brother's wedding. It's my first time back here since leaving for Ibiza at the beginning of February and the timing was perfect. The last couple of months I found myself feeling quite homesick, not for London but for all the lovely people I'd left behind. A few weeks ago I found myself questioning the move on a daily basis, not wanting to move back to London but really struggling without lots of friends and family around me. I wasn't sure if it was so great to live in a beautiful place if I missed everyone so much.

Anyway, when I woke up this morning at my friend Claudette's place, I had a realisation. I know I want to live in Ibiza. But until I have a wide circle of close friends there, popping back to London every three months or so will make a huge difference to my quality of life. Even before I left Ibiza on Sunday night, I was so excited about coming back. I don't miss London one bit but I do miss all the wonderful people I left behind. This morning I woke and found my solution. I'll now be back at the end of October!

London

I'm going back to London this weekend for a week. It's my brother's wedding so I guess I have to show up! I'm really looking forward to it. Not so much going back to London but seeing everyone. Well, not everyone - I'm there for just over a week and I have no idea how many pre-wedding parties there are. When my younger sister got married, all the pre-wedding stuff went on for two weeks. By the time of the wedding, I was exhausted and couldn't wait for it all to end! So, not sure how much time I'll have to see friends, particularly when there are family members to spend time with.

All I know is that I'm going to be surrounded by family and friends for just over a week and frankly I can't wait! Friends from London here have said that when they've gone back for a short visit, it's been really energising and they've come back bouncing! A bit like drinking a few cafe con leches in a row I think! It seems perfectly timed as I have spent the last six weeks or so really missing everyone. But I don't miss London. I think this trip back will make it quite clear that I don't want to live in London so I just have to focus on making it in Ibiza when I return, all recharged like a new battery!

Wrong! Very wrong indeed!

I dropped by Cala Carbo beach yesterday to pick up my friend Emily. It's a cute little beach, off the beaten track, popular with families, a couple of family-run restaurants and that's about it.

As we were leaving, I looked over towards the sea and saw a sight that just made me go "wrong!". There was a man standing at the water's edge with a little girl next to him, maybe 8 years old. The girl was wearing a thong - it looked so wrong, so very wrong indeed. If the poor child wants to get an all-over tan, better run around stark naked as many of the kids do here. But wearing a thong seemed like the sexualisation of a child. I found it strange, I'm not sure what others on the beach thought, maybe across Europe it's considered normal but I actually found it a bit disturbing!

Looking for a sign.....

I've just realised that it's been about three weeks since I last posted so about time I wrote something otherwise people who read might think something's happened to me. I'm fine, it's very hot now and the last thing I want to do is sit in internet places in the heat of the day. I need to be a bit more Spanish and use the cool hours in the morning and evening but not like the farmer last week who decided to start ploughing the fields behind the house at around 4am! I was not happy when the whirring of his tractor woke me up. I do enjoy the evenings - I've started doing a "sunset walk" with the cats and kittens and it's great fun. We go into one of the fields that have been recently ploughed and the cats run around like crazy, jumping on the bales of hay, climbing up trees, chasing each other. Quite a surprise to see such activity from our geriatric feline friends as they usually spend all day lying around, doing not very much at all.

Anyway, the title of this post "Looking for a sign...." refers to me and how I've been feeling the last week or so. Every day I look for a sign, a big sign that this move to Ibiza was the right move to make. It doesn't feel like I've made the wrong move but I've not had a big sign that convinces me that this was the right move. I know it was, I'd just like a sign to confirm it. Plus, it would make me feel quite excited! So, what are the signs I refer to? Well, there are only two, they're fairly straightforward (I'm easily pleased....) and here they are. The first would be a really good work lead that turns into a great project. The other would be to meet someone special who makes me go "wow!" You see, such simple things. I don't ask for much.

But, at the same time, I'm grateful for the things that have happened already. I have two gorgeous kittens Simba and Tyke who entertain me endlessly. They're far too naughty to be the sorts of kittens that engulf you in love and always want to sit on your lap (they never do) but watching them play will always put a smile on my face. The work I've been doing for Alberto and his wife Yvonne continues and they are quite possibly one of the most amazing creative teams on the island. Their most recent project "Can Tomas" is breathtakingly beautiful and I'll do a separate post about the villa, complete with pictures! There is stacks I can learn from them and it's good to be around such inspiring people. 

I've also started writing a monthly interiors article for "Ibiza Now", the main foreign-language newspaper on the island. The article should hopefully act like a "shop front" for me, in the absence of having an interiors shop on the island. But I was pretty dismayed to see that in my first article, the photos I used weren't credited. When I raised it with them, I got a "oh don't worry, it doesn't matter" but actually yes, it does. The person who arranged the photos for me did so on the understanding that he would be credited and he wasn't, even though I wrote out the credit and sent them with the photos. I felt awful, particularly as the person has already gone out of his way to help me - from now on, I will be insisting on seeing my articles before they go to print. Makes me feel like a control freak but better that than things not being done properly. 

Anyway, in the grand scheme of things, everything is moving in the right direction but it fees like I've nailed all the periphery stuff but have yet to see some success with actually getting any client work. Maybe it's a seasonal thing - people won't be thinking of the interiors of their homes until the summer's over and they find themselves spending more time indoors. I've decided that once I come back from London in the beginning of August, I'm going to talk to all my property contacts here and see if they can think of any past clients who might want some interiors advice. Leaving my cards in estate agents offices hasn't led to anything yet, probably because the property market here is pretty stagnant, as it is the world over.  

I'm constantly reviewing my tactics because nothing so far has worked. My cards are all over the place but haven't led to any enquiries. Exhibiting at Habitat was a good way to launch the business here but didn't lead to anything (or hasn't so far). So, you can see why I'm reviewing tactics and looking for a sign! I need something pretty big to tell me that this massive move I made, leaving my life, my family and friends to move to a beautiful place where I wanted to live was the right thing to do. Work-wise my last year in London was absolutely amazing but that came after ten years of graft. I know I'm looking to find a similar feeling in a much shorter space of time, in a matter of months actually. Sometimes when I think about it, it was completely bonkers. I came here alone with not one close friend on the island. I've done it before, I lived in three different continents in my twenties but I think it's different when you're younger - people's lives are less established, there's more time and space to let others in. Lives are more established when you hit your thirties, it's different then. But actually, that's not so much of an issue for me, the signs I'm looking for aren't to do with finding a new best friend. I don't feel lonely but I do feel alone. And being the person that I am, I constantly question what I've done and why I've done it and wonder if I've done the right thing. That sign is all I need to stop the constant questioning.....

And now I sit here with a smile on my face, wondering if a day will come when I stop worrying?