9th October 2009

A Chaplain’s Diary

 

Well that’s it!

 

Bright Orange Hire Car

Originally we were five but in a few days time we shall once again be down to just the two of us, when my younger son disappears off back to York University.  As the nest empties one suddenly realises that the endlessly untidy house with clothes strewn everywhere, tantrums at meal times, round the clock 24 hours a day television, a self-emptying fridge and what is presumed to be a self-loading dishwasher by those under 25 were actually halcyon days.  We shall soon be at that stage when my young grandson is the only distraction and we will be able to devote all our loving energy and eagle eye onto his proclivities and misdemeanours.

 

Younger son’s biggest fear and dread at the moment is that he will have to arrive on his first day of term at university in a bright orange Easycar hire car.  We have pointed out to him that this will not be noticed amongst the myriads of other doting parents sobbing a sad farewell and tooting their horn as they disappear off the horizon back to a teenager-less home.  Now the choice is his.  It’s either the bright orange hire car or taking the bus from Leeds-Bradford airport all the way to York, but as we’ve pointed out it won’t be easy with the television, hi-fi equipment and various other clobber including his huge Liverpool Football Club posters. 

 

“The 2p Game”

Gone are the days when we’ve driven all the way to the bottom of the street at the start of long journey to be asked the inevitable question “Are we there yet?”  Gone are the days of the famous “2p game”.  For the uninitiated this is an activity designed to entertain fractious youngsters during a long journey and is an attempt to take their mind off carsickness, hunger pangs and general travelling juvenile disabilities.  The Game Master (usually the driver) suggests a list of possible things for the children to spot and the first to see one and call it out gets 2p.  Obviously now that we are living in the Euro zone this 2p has to be converted into its Euro equivalent.  The exchange rate can be decided by the parent given their own personal financial and social standing – because there are no particular international rules to this game.  Subjects can vary from the every-day, such as a red car, a church, a woman with a hat on or a man with a dog, to the bizarre, which is a way of prolonging the game whilst saving money.  My children are still looking out for a dog with a hat on, an Eddie Stobart lorry being driven by a woman and a man with a parrot on his shoulder.  No doubt even now should they ever spot one of these the cash will be called in.  From a financial point of view the game need not be too expensive as after years of entertaining my children on long car journeys they have never as yet remembered to call the money in and I have never reminded them!  Perhaps the modern equivalent is “spot the speed camera” but knowing them they would probably look the other way if they saw one - anything to embarrass Dad and get him into trouble.

 

We’re not proud!

I think we may have seen the last of this year’s summer visitors.  Everyone is now back in their own beds and we have been able to rediscover the carpets underneath the sea of mattresses in the lounge.  Not everyone has stayed here and these are the sort of visitors we particularly like - friends and relatives who come to see us in Majorca but make their own accommodation arrangements!  This works really well because we can then ration the time we spend with them and meet up if and as it suits everybody. The added bonus of course is that come departure day they invariably arrive on the doorstep with various offerings that they can’t take on board the plane or food that they’ve bought and either don’t like or haven’t managed to eat.  As a result we are the proud possessors of dozens of straw beach mats, a large selection of bright opalescent coloured lilos and rubber rings in various stages of collapse, numerous jars of green mermalada (which has been mistaken for English marmalade), barbeque fire-lighter, half bags of charcoal, half-empty bags of sugar, salt, black pepper and half bottles of vinegar and oil.  In fact, I suspect there is many a home in Majorca that will identify with this list of left over holidaymakers’ debris.  But who am I to complain?  Apart from the beach mats (which we have never been known to use) it’s always welcome and particularly so if it’s accompanied by odd lumps of smelly cheese, salami and various fruit and vegetables.  We’re not proud!

 

Changeover Day

For years we used to go for a three-week holiday to the Es Jardins apartments at Son Parc on Minorca.  Changeover day there is Friday with most people leaving the island on early morning flights, so each Friday we would get up to find different offerings left on the plastic table on the terrace.  It’s amazing what people buy and then don’t either use, eat or take home with them.  We used to get quite excited, looking forward to Friday mornings!  We are still the proud owners of four excellent beach towels which are still doing sterling service and were simply discarded by a family going home.  In my more zany moments I felt I ought to get myself better organised for changeover days.  I imagined myself sitting there from 6 am onwards with large cardboard boxes suitably labelled “fresh veg”, “tins”, “bottles”, “beach equipment” and “revolting green mermalada”.  I’m sure this would have helped the departing holiday makers and would have solved our inevitable storage problems but I rather suspect that we might not have done quite as well because there’s something about the anonymity of what you leave behind on someone’s patio under the cover of darkness.  After all they probably wouldn’t want people to know that they couldn’t exist on holiday without their Daddy’s brown sauce, Heinz spaghetti hoops and Kellogg’s All-Bran.

 

 

Silly Things

As one of those who has only lived here for nine years, I still sometimes wander around in wide-eyed wonderment.  It’s sometimes the smallest and silliest things that can bring so much pleasure.  A while ago I discovered a shop in Palmanova that sold bottles of retsina – that’s the Greek resinated wine that you either love or hate and tastes either like pine disinfectant or nectar of the Greek gods.  I belong to the second of those two categories and I was therefore somewhat put out to be told by the proprietor that it had been a mistake order, had hardly sold at all and he would not be buying any more.  On the pavement outside we wondered whether to go for a job lot to avoid the risk of retsina withdrawal symptoms hitting us at some point in the future or rely on the Greek restaurant  in the entertainment centre at Marratxi for future tastings.

 

I’m now therefore looking forward to using some of the houmous that I bought with a reduced yellow label on during a recent visit to England, some moussaka and one of my favourites, afelia which is basically cubed pork, marinated in red wine and lots of coriander seeds.  It’s cooked, boiled dry and then refried.  All of this accompanied by a Greek salad topped with feta cheese and black olives.  But what is all this?  An Englishman who’s voluntarily moved to Spain, loves Mallorquian food such as chiperones and Mallorquian Frito, dreaming of mouth numbing rough Greek wine when there is the splendid wine of Binissalem just up the road.  Perhaps it’s the opposite of xenophobia and is one of the joys of living in One World.

 

Fr Robert Ellis is the Anglican Chaplain of Majorca

St Philip and St James Church

Nunez de Balboa 6,

Son Armadans, Palma 07014

Tel: 971 737279

E mail: anglicanpalma@gmail.com

www.anglican-mallorca.org