TINGS

[allsortsotings]

Why do you want to do this?

Things are not always as simple as they seem. Turns out my first post, the misspelling of ‘mojar’ as ‘mujar’, actually translates as the verb ‘to make wet’, and is often used in a sexual way. It is related to the mopping up of the juices, in that one makes the bread wet, but it doesn't really mean ‘to get the most out of’, as I was using it.

This example is a clear demonstration of my behaviour. Hear about something, think it’s fantastic, wholeheartedly adopt it in full swing without really looking into any of the details.

It happened with veganism, Hare Krishna, and trying to follow the Buddhist doctrines during University. Not that there's a lot bad to be uncovered within those things, I was just very enthusiastic about them without fully thinking anything through. Good ideas versus realism. Being vegan and loving travel = being hungry = being upset and tired = not a good idea.  There was also this thing called Mooji in Portugal which I applied to thinking it sounded spiritual before finding out it was actually a kind of money making cult which Louis Theroux really needs to investigate.

Life choices can be easy to make, but deeply thinking about them and seeing them as a part of life, not just a choice, is where it stops being so easy. Think about some choices you have made in life. Before deciding upon them, did you ask why? Then why again? Then why, again?

We were asked “why?” to the max in the week ofApril 24th-30th. It was a so-called bootcamp near Barcelona facilitated by Classroom Alive!’s previous pilgrims. I say so-called because bootcamp normally conjures images of doing star jumps by a lake whilst someone cheers at you to keep on going, one more set. But this boot camp was different, very different.

Not unlike boarding school, we all stayed in a great mansion called Can Bordoi in Llinars del Valles. The subjects were economics, self development, travel logistics, and life planning. We learned about U-theory and absenscing; which is when you are not seeing a situation clearly or using your ego to avoid reality (as I understand). Coming through the U threads the eye of the needle, where one arrives at a balanced outcome.

The main premise of the boot camp was that we design a journey, ranging from 2-6 months, where we walk and study each day to travel by foot and learn more. In previous journeys some travelled from Greece to Sweden, or Budapest to Amsterdam. Some studying finance, some medicine, some solely meditation. Our plan was to travel across Asturias in Northern Spain, winding our way through farms, eco communities, permaculture workaways and crop fields with the idea to create a network between them.

Sounds fantastic, yes? I was taken away by the dreamy idea of floating between farmers to families talking about organic veg and camping in the summer air. This is the kind of vague plan I would usually come up with. Classroom Alive, however, encouraged us to really think about these ideas. How could it work in practice? Why do you want to do it? What is the long term goal?

Unavoidable questions, and so important. After a long think I realised it would be neccessary to take another year before beginning said journey; as currently my Spanish is below intermediate and small-scale conversational at best, so the idea of entering Spanish homes with the aim to discuss local and larger networking is far fetched with a limited vocabulary.

This was okay though, because we met a fantastic man, previously mentioned for his stone masonry skills, named Klas who lives in the mountains and co-runs immersion courses with a mystical woman named Nar. The idea is that you stay in the village for a month, everyone in the community partakes in the course and refuses to speak in any language other than Spanish, even when they are able. It's almost universally agreed that immersion is the best way of learning, so this made me more than happy to postpone our journey for a year, leaving time to plan and learn and maybe create an online network to direct people to; similar to gen.com but initially just for Spain.

I also decided that I wanted to do a Vipassana before going on such a journey, as I don't trust my up and down state of mind enough to fully commit to so long walking and talking with others. We originally teamed up in groups but soon found ourselves breaking away as ideas differed and the energy between us was difficult to calm. Lots of bubbling enthusiasms but an underlying struggle to release and collaborate harmoniously. People wanted to do what they wanted to do, and I felt the same.

It was around Thursday when Caleb, one of the leading organisers, spoke the realisation that Classroom Alive wasn't really about planning a journey, but planning your life. The questions asked were so invasive, so penetrating, that many people changed their minds about their original ideas. It was fantastic.

I’ve never had such a concentrated experience of self analysis and questioning. It was tough, but it enabled everyone to reach the right conclusions for them at that time. It was funny how at the start of the week we hopped in the car with Madalena, wholeheartedly spouting about the definity of staying in Spain, living and travelling on the go, and at the end we were in a different car, with the same Madalena dropping us at the station to get the train to the airport, our flight departing to England later that Sunday.

Self analysis and ‘why’ lead us to the conclusion that more planning needs to be done. Roughing it with 25kg suitcases plus backpacks is not roughing it. It’s tough. We had so much fun with two months of workaways, moving around and learning things, but also realised we had no real plans for the immediate future, and money was becoming a worry. People were asking what our plans were post-boot camp and we said we’d figure it out. We did, but in a way that wasn't expected.

Nik and I are now sat opposite each other in my old-new house in Alsager. It's the new build next to the old house that I grew up in, so it’s on the same grounds. We’re both typing frantically about what's been happening in the last month, as a detailed way of informing friends and family of the situation. We’re spending just over a month gardening, healing and planning. We’re even looking at temporary jobs to save more money before returning.  

Classroom Alive recently posted something on Facebook wondering how our outer journeys, but more importantly, inner journeys had developed. At this point, I feel so much more balanced than I did more than a month ago.

Weirdly coming back to England has been less of a step back and much further forward. We have plans to live in the ecovillage featured on Grand Designs in Pembrokeshire, Lammas, and volunteer for a month before working on the Green Team at Boomtown. From there we’ll get the ferry to Gijon, hopefully get on to a week long English-Spanish immersion teaching course. Then go our separate ways for a month whilst we each take to our own immersive Spanish learning.

Having space from travelling and uncertainty has provided so much time for planning and organising, developing certainty and more calm. Nothing is set in stone but the vague structure has made us both feel more relaxed in the present and excited about the future.

I’ve had acupuncture, cranio sacral therapy, and probably most healing of all, lots of lovely times drinking with friends. England, you have been magical.

(I’ll maybe mention the disasters and political unrest another time..)

[allsortsotings]

Don’t be afraid to catch fish

[allsortsotings]

[allsortsotings]

TRACK 2

Things are not always as simple as they seem. Turns out my first post, the misspelling of ‘mojar’ as ‘mujar’, actually translates as the verb ‘to make wet’, and is often used in a sexual way. It is related to the mopping up of the juices, in that one makes the bread wet, but it doesn't really mean ‘to get the most out of’, as I was using it. This example is a clear demonstration of my behaviour. Hear about something, think it’s fantastic, wholeheartedly adopt it in full swing without really looking into any of the details. It happened with veganism, Hare Krishna, and trying to follow the Buddhist doctrines during University. Not that there's a lot bad to be uncovered within those things, I was just very enthusiastic about them without fully thinking anything through. Good ideas versus realism. Being vegan and loving travel = being hungry = being upset and tired = not a good idea. There was also this thing called Mooji in Portugal which I applied to thinking it sounded spiritual before finding out it was actually a kind of money making cult which Louis Theroux really needs to investigate. Life choices can be easy to make, but deeply thinking about them and seeing them as a part of life, not just a choice, is where it stops being so easy. Think about some choices you have made in life. Before deciding upon them, did you ask why? Then why again? Then why, again? We were asked “why?” to the max in the week ofApril 24th-30th. It was a so-called bootcamp near Barcelona facilitated by Classroom Alive!’s previous pilgrims. I say so-called because bootcamp normally conjures images of doing star jumps by a lake whilst someone cheers at you to keep on going, one more set. But this boot camp was different, very different. Not unlike boarding school, we all stayed in a great mansion called Can Bordoi in Llinars del Valles. The subjects were economics, self development, travel logistics, and life planning. We learned about U-theory and absenscing; which is when you are not seeing a situation clearly or using your ego to avoid reality (as I understand). Coming through the U threads the eye of the needle, where one arrives at a balanced outcome. The main premise of the boot camp was that we design a journey, ranging from 2-6 months, where we walk and study each day to travel by foot and learn more. In previous journeys some travelled from Greece to Sweden, or Budapest to Amsterdam. Some studying finance, some medicine, some solely meditation. Our plan was to travel across Asturias in Northern Spain, winding our way through farms, eco communities, permaculture workaways and crop fields with the idea to create a network between them. Sounds fantastic, yes? I was taken away by the dreamy idea of floating between farmers to families talking about organic veg and camping in the summer air. This is the kind of vague plan I would usually come up with. Classroom Alive, however, encouraged us to really think about these ideas. How could it work in practice? Why do you want to do it? What is the long term goal? Unavoidable questions, and so important. After a long think I realised it would be neccessary to take another year before beginning said journey; as currently my Spanish is below intermediate and small-scale conversational at best, so the idea of entering Spanish homes with the aim to discuss local and larger networking is far fetched with a limited vocabulary. This was okay though, because we met a fantastic man, previously mentioned for his stone masonry skills, named Klas who lives in the mountains and co-runs immersion courses with a mystical woman named Nar. The idea is that you stay in the village for a month, everyone in the community partakes in the course and refuses to speak in any language other than Spanish, even when they are able. It's almost universally agreed that immersion is the best way of learning, so this made me more than happy to postpone our journey for a year, leaving time to plan and learn and maybe create an online network to direct people to; similar to gen.com but initially just for Spain. I also decided that I wanted to do a Vipassana before going on such a journey, as I don't trust my up and down state of mind enough to fully commit to so long walking and talking with others. We originally teamed up in groups but soon found ourselves breaking away as ideas differed and the energy between us was difficult to calm. Lots of bubbling enthusiasms but an underlying struggle to release and collaborate harmoniously. People wanted to do what they wanted to do, and I felt the same. It was around Thursday when Caleb, one of the leading organisers, spoke the realisation that Classroom Alive wasn't really about planning a journey, but planning your life. The questions asked were so invasive, so penetrating, that many people changed their minds about their original ideas. It was fantastic. I’ve never had such a concentrated experience of self analysis and questioning. It was tough, but it enabled everyone to reach the right conclusions for them at that time. It was funny how at the start of the week we hopped in the car with Madalena, wholeheartedly spouting about the definity of staying in Spain, living and travelling on the go, and at the end we were in a different car, with the same Madalena dropping us at the station to get the train to the airport, our flight departing to England later that Sunday. Self analysis and ‘why’ lead us to the conclusion that more planning needs to be done. Roughing it with 25kg suitcases plus backpacks is not roughing it. It’s tough. We had so much fun with two months of workaways, moving around and learning things, but also realised we had no real plans for the immediate future, and money was becoming a worry. People were asking what our plans were post-boot camp and we said we’d figure it out. We did, but in a way that wasn't expected. Nik and I are now sat opposite each other in my old-new house in Alsager. It's the new build next to the old house that I grew up in, so it’s on the same grounds. We’re both typing frantically about what's been happening in the last month, as a detailed way of informing friends and family of the situation. We’re spending just over a month gardening, healing and planning. We’re even looking at temporary jobs to save more money before returning. Classroom Alive recently posted something on Facebook wondering how our outer journeys, but more importantly, inner journeys had developed. At this point, I feel so much more balanced than I did more than a month ago. Weirdly coming back to England has been less of a step back and much further forward. We have plans to live in the ecovillage featured on Grand Designs in Pembrokeshire, Lammas, and volunteer for a month before working on the Green Team at Boomtown. From there we’ll get the ferry to Gijon, hopefully get on to a week long English-Spanish immersion teaching course. Then go our separate ways for a month whilst we each take to our own immersive Spanish learning. Having space from travelling and uncertainty has provided so much time for planning and organising, developing certainty and more calm. Nothing is set in stone but the vague structure has made us both feel more relaxed in the present and excited about the future. I’ve had acupuncture, cranio scaral therapy, and probably most healing of all, lots of lovely times drinking with friends. England, you have been magical. (I’ll maybe mention the disasters and political unrest another time..)

[allsortsotings]

Flash of Gold

Citrus orange peel Glittering strands sinew Sip sweet nectar Grapefruit sun shines

Spritz honey juice Open suckle stretch Ripe oozing jam Berry press pours

Stone plum skin Colours dance billow Sticky soft compote Peach pip puddle

[allsortsotings]

Mushroom noodles with dumplings in Parc Arc D'Triomf, Barcelona. After moving the African quilt so tourists would stop walking past looking at me as homeless. A park is a perfectly good home if you have some food and covers.

[allsortsotings]

City life is grimola

Grimola, granola. 15 selections of tea. 4 boxes of backup digestives. Coconut oil. Kombu dried vac packed seaweed. Xylitol. I'm scared. Living in a field for the last month has affected my perception drastically when entering new spaces. The bright lights of Dia% with 7 varieties of jam and 12 different cereals. So much choice. So little time. I’m also currently hallucinating, there’s a cat behind the wooden pillar in this apartment but there isn't. There was one, lonely cat who is housebound and doesn't appear to spend much time with other animals or in green pasture. It's a shock difference from the free range cats I’ve been around in the open. Its eyes are wide and longing. Flashing green and scared but scary. It wants to be near me but doesn't want to come in for the cuddle. It's intrigued but unfamiliar. It's so lonely. The image of her clawing posture is rooted in my frontal imagination; I keep seeing her in the green and white flying tags attached to my recently abandoned rucksack next to the pillar. The dark, artificially scratched pillar represents a hark back to some forgotten reality. A tree? Amongst the unblemished white walls and spray painted world map on some clean cut planks of wood. I want to like it, I want to relax. But I’m scared. This is the life we are led to believe. Cupboards full of unpronounceable ingredients shipped from unknown places. To what ends? I believe I see in these items a search for something, a struggle to find something. Why else would one need a oil-ified vial of oregano liquid? It scares me because it makes me realise with a shudder the life that could have been and the life that was. Living in a city during university led me to buy so many things I didn't need. Not objects, but random food items justified by the idea that eating is vital and expenditure on such a thing is positive. But did I really need a cupboard full of lucuma, matcha, flaxseeds, carob powder. Granted, I enjoyed those things and used them, but arguably as an escape from a life I wasn't enjoying. Since feeling more purposeful in daily life - whether by lifting wood from a forest to provide heat fuel, or weeding and mulching a garden bed to make good soil for vegetables - I don't think about food so much. But its appreciation has grown. Food enables the body to carry on working, food makes the body feel good. A stack of biscuits and a cup of tea means energy for the next two hours. A ‘paleo brownie’ is a mush of confusion and a waste of nuts and other depleting, expensive resources. Almond trees are fast being cut down and it’s scary. As I stare at the random plastic boxes containing stuff, decorative chair, wii, DVD player, chest of drawers I feel equally amassed into a mush of confusion. Airbnb used to be this cheap thing where people had a spare room and let it out for £7 a night. Now it’s a competitor to expensive hotels and marketing itself in the same way. Everyone has professional photos, ‘a selection of teas and coffees from all over the world’, and a cleaning fee. My mind is boggled to a similar level of this fragmented stream of consciousness. I’ve reached for a shiny green emerald Mahou from the fridge but now the cat is staring at it, perhaps wondering if it reflects the eyes of a potential mate. Can’t connect to the wifi, oh no. What else is there to do? Maybe I’ll leave the flat, get a beer and a pincho, take a walk round the river, go to the museum, buy some food, shop for clothes, search for something that’s so elusive we must constantly hunt for it. Ah! I’ve found it. It's a field full of sunshine.

[allsortsotings]

Peñella y Pandenis

It’s been about three weeks now since I last updated. Perhaps because the pace of life has been more fast, but arguably because it has slowed down. I feel the need more to write when stressed, frantic or in waves of mania than when calm and relaxed. It’s said that the greatest art comes from depression, which might account for the radio silence in times of peace.

After Andreas’ we found a workaway in a tiny village called Peñella. We got the train from Novellana which had a quaint old waiting house and a big field of grass and daisies which allowed me to do yoga for half an hour whilst Nik went to buy lunch of pan, plátanos y naranjas. The train cost about €7 each and was an excursion in itself. Ubiquitous sights of mountains, rivers, fields and farms passed us as we headed to Infiesto.

On arrival we were greeted by the curly headed Maya; a delightful five year old with a wobbly tooth and a love of attention. Maybe I recognised some of my younger self in her which is why I often enjoyed playing with her more than partaking in the serious grown up chats/ ‘adult moments of silence’. We talked truffles over a litre of sidra and some crisps: Adam has started a truffle plantation in some flattish land - as flat as you can find on a foothill - and needs them to be constantly weeded in order to grow and produce.

It’s a big plan: the truffle trees will act as a working farm, in order to get planning permission for a barn in which Adam and his family can live. They currently reside in a beautiful self built house on the hillside with lots of crafted wood and amazing views. But! You say. Cultivating truffle trees? Impossible!

Yea, but nay. Adam’s trees came from a man in Barcelona who impregnates other tree types, in this case the ‘holly oak’ with truffle inoculations, then ships them out to customers. It’s surprisingly consistent work, due to the rapidity of the weeds’ growth. The trees however, are relatively low maintenance, almost cactus-like in their ability to withstand drought and lack of water for up to one year. With the all-sun or all-rain weather in Asturias, it’s perfect.

At Adam and Naomi’s we stayed in their old festival truck which was used for the Tiny Tea Tent (holla Glastonbury, WOMAD, etc), until he four children came and the new, improved Tiny Tea Truck was born. Complete with bunk beds, bath and pull-down bed.

The truck we stayed in was parked permanently on the truffle field, with a balcony built around the front and covered by eight year old willow trees. The view of the mist and the mountains at sunrise was quite mystical. We loved staying there. It had a gas stove, wood burner, sink, shelving, storage, dining area, and could still be opened up at the back so one could watch the sunset whilst hanging off the rear eating dinner, if one so wished.

Our cupboards were reasonably filled as part of the volunteering agreement which sparked the idea of masterchef style invention tests using what we were given. Arancini balls, aubergine parmigiana, fishcakes, hummus, kidney bean curry, peaches with granola and homemade yoghurt were some of the plates produced under the restrictions (in the loosest sense of the word).

On this note, we got really into food whilst there, even though we are always into food, but more so. On a special level. Something seemed to provoke an excitement in me to create and experiment with different dishes and tastes.

I say ‘something’ when knowing without a doubt that it was our celebratory trip to Los Llaureles; the gourmet ten course restaurant experience we went to for our anniversary (!!!). This was my first ever anniversary in life and I was greatly pleased to be spending it eating ten courses of food on the mountainside.

The dishes were (as named by us):

Honey Spoon Agave, mascarpone, almond cinnamon crisp

Laksa Miso broth, vermicelli, seafood

Mushrooms Date paste, creamy shrooms, salmon, cheese

Foetus Chicken shaped dough ball in an eggshell filled with clear garlic soup

Bao Bun Fish, apple gel, mayo

Croquette Brûléed whipped goats cheese stuffed date

Bitter Salad Mango, spinach, peanut sauce

Merluza Con mayo, rosemary, black sesame

Chia Seed Vanilla soy, mango, papaya, almond cinnamon crisp

Woman in a Gold Dress Wallflower: sponge, creme Catalan, Valencian meringue helado. Needed a ruby goji berry twist!!

So to sum up the food was fantastic.

During this time I was also awakened to the incomprehensible stress of being a full-time Mother: where is the time?

Seeing another person constantly so dutiful and aware and organised was slightly mind blowing. It’s clear to see that the children are unaware of any stress effects of this, and it made me realise how much you can take for granted as a child. I tried to help out and play with the kids and ask them stimulating questions, etc, but its nothing compared to the generally under-awarded gallantry of getting kids up in the morning; taking them to school; making food that everyone eats; keeping up with homework; cleaning; nurturing and getting again to bed at a reasonable time to do it all over again tomorrow. Life runs away quickly when it’s paced like this.

We were lucky to finish weeding at 2pm, amble up to the house for lunch, and amble back down for a leisurely dinner or stroll into Torazo. It’s not unusual to finish work at this time in Spain, which is definitely something I love. Work hard in the morning with high brain activity, eat slowly and generously during lunch, then relax into a siesta, a walk or reading for the rest of the evening. It feels like there’s more time in the day, and that its use is efficient.

We drank beer, sidra or wine most days with food. One Thursday after a smaller lunch we paired Asturian cheeses with Rioja, become progressively merrier as the mealtime went on. Food feels so good after manual labour, so much so that I’ve come to lose the same appetite without it.

Tea breaks feel like real, restorative rests. I’ve come to appreciate a range of biscuits and their dunking abilities. The pleasure of a black tea with milk is something inextricably linked with outdoor work. Read: builder’s brew.

We spent just under two weeks at the truffle plantation, it was a lovely time for reading and cooking. I finished 1984 which was one that has been on my list for virtually ever. So poignant. May save interpretations for another time.

Adam & Naomi know a small network of fellow ecoprojects and helpex/workaway hosts, so on our last Sunday we made a convenient switchover to El Toral with Liz & Steve via a barbecue. It was one of those moments where you’re glad of however life brought you to that moment. More mountains, hills, wooden decking overlooking a sheep field, delicious food and interesting people.

There was a man named Klas who makes stone masonry fires - they’re this amazing way of making the most out of heat energy by sending all the stuff through big metal pipes which are covered usually with clay. It’s a thousand+ year old technique but for whatever reason they’re relatively uncommon in Europe despite being incredibly efficient. They take a long time to build and are reasonably expensive but they last pretty much forever. Traditionally a family home will be built around one as the main pole of the house. Steve is reading a lot about their construction and kicking himself for not building one originally, as wood collection is a constant job here.

At the BBQ we also some girls doing English teaching in Coruna which which seems like a good thing/idea. Sort of considered it but the year is quite a commitment and after speaking to Liz freelance teaching seems like a good option. A one-to-one thing with locals for an hour or so.

Liz & Steve’s is a place currently focussed on hosting guests in la cabana (the guesthouse) and the blue rainbow caravan. We sleep in a little box attached to their old caravan, wher Hugo currently resides, in a field shared with some lovely orange cows. Hugo is a talented guitarist from Madrid who has been here for half a month.

We met on the Sunday and quite quickly entered inspiring philosophical conversation. We talk about literature, ideas, music and feelings. Nik and I were immediately pleased to be chilling with him for the duration of the stay. We take it in turns to cook dinner and eat overlooking the field, the stars above us and the moon sometimes hidden by the clouds.

No topic is bounded and the other day we did a creative activity which involved taking ten minutes to draw what we visualised when imagining the superego. All three were distinct and different. And of course, in true Freudian style, in some way interpretable as phallic.

The week here has fast gone by. Starting with cleaning the chicken coop and laying down straw and manure to enrich the garden soil, ending by cooking a banquet of roast sumac cauliflower with squash, red onion, apricot and black olive tagine, spicy onion rice, mustard leaf zhoug, tahini sauce and walnut tzatziki. We eat really well here. Liz is a fantastic cook and Steve goes by the ‘Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall approach’, which is nothing to complain about.

Always a bowl piled with fresh garden greens, a hot pasta or salad and fresh bread with olive oil. Food is something they may endeavour to move onto when more comfortably in the swing of bnb work. Yesterday there was a double booking which meant convincing one party to sleep in the Mongolian yurt. As a team we somehow went from empty field to fully furnished round sleeping house with wooden steps and concrete paving (Nik’s toil). Everything inside is painted and embossed beautifully, with purple curtains behind the bed and various fabrics from Steve’s travels to Turkey and Tibet sparkling around the walls and floor. Luckily, we may have to sleep in it next Wednesday to make room for a new volunteer.

Next week we’re heading to Bilbao to get some respite before embarking on a new adventure: Classroom Alive. It’s a one week boot camp in Barcelona with the aim to plan a journey from 2 - 6 months by foot with rucksacks and tents, learning in a classroom-style format for half the day, then walking for the rest of it to the next destination. It sounds crazy and I’m excited to see what it will bring. If anyone is interested, let me know!

For now, it’s raining, but we’re not going to let that deter us from our Easter Saturday trip to Nava’s sidra museum. Hopefully there will be samples.

[allsortsotings]

[allsortsotings]

UPDATE

After talking to my wonderful Mother and many other caring friends I found a new found confidence and really felt the support from others.

I made lunch on the Tuesday following the given instructions then felt really frustrated when I rang the bell twice and no one came to eat. It wasn’t really about the bell or not turning up it was just an amalgamation of feeling undervalued and unrecognised. Perhaps ‘the destruction of the self’ that is apparently behind the root of all problems whose tracing are often stopped when reaching the mother or father.

By the time anyone turned up I was in a raging mood and felt almost uncontrollable, like the black energy inside me was at the forefront, making me slam my notebook on the table and storm into the pilgrim’s cabin in a child like tantrum. I cried and bawled and felt helpless, like the same problem was chasing me everywhere. In trying to escape a feeling I was suppressing it and thats why it manifested itself here. In trying to leave the nest of control, I had entered a new realm of familial control.

The situation here is so intense that it’s hardly surprising that it can so easily become a kind of psychodrama for those involved. With one stepping into the dominant role of father, and the rest of us as the kids. This is definite and agreed upon as an observation, but how to enjoy it in a free and childlike manner? Rather than in a brattish, irritable and insolent one.

I climbed into the other field and ran down the steep grassy mountain with tears and rage falling from my face. I whined and moaned to an involuntary audience of trees, river, and rocks. Not knowing how to calm down I walked and scrambled until there wasn’t anywhere else to go. Turning back with the subconscious obligation to fulfil the day’s plans of heading to Corollos, I found Nik looking for me in the cabin.

He understood that the whole thing was like a reliving of childhood pain and thus so difficult to handle without emotion. He said that it could be a good opportunity to heal and learn, to overcome fears, but also that we could go if I really didn’t want to stay any longer.

The options made things feel a little better and I managed to get into the truck packed with stuff. We weren’t entirely allowed to sit together so as not to make one feel like a taxi driver, but it was okay because I had saved Morning Side by Four Tet so had a good twenty minutes of Indian instrumental and mountain scenery to go on. Am starting to really enjoy that song - before thought it was trying too hard to be an Indian instrumental track maybe a bit like Nissim but failing to have the gritty soul to it - now after experiencing it with some fresh vegetable pakoras in the sun it feels different. Good memories attached.

We got to Lidia’s empty Panera and I was allowed to chill on the internet in the absolutely beautiful surroundings that were dusted with a streak-free finish for oncoming tourists. Our gardeners muddy boots were to be strictly taken off before entering and we were ordered to leave without a trace.

Calming down was good and before dinner we used a kundalini yoga session from YouTube in the living room. I was happy that we all did it together and it really did add a calmness and warmth to the atmosphere that was distinctly missing before. We ate dinner together and I was able to calmly point out certain behaviours that I found affecting or controlling which was also received with grace and a little humour. Being calm, honest and open completely worked.

Friday we did a lot of great work: digging out the garden to fit a fence, fitting a fence, mulching, weeding, adding dung, etc. Everything smelled like poo but it was still enjoyable and the weather was beautiful. There’s something special about Lidia’s place in Corollos. It’s so tasteful and calm. As long as you don’t feel restricted by the streak free finish.

After work it was so lovely to eat a well earned dinner together outside in the sun. We stopped at a lovely local cafe and shared a huge plate of patatas with aioli and deep fried octopus with fresh bread. We drank two bottles of sidra between the three of us which definitely hit the head after a lunch of about ¼ an apple, some walnuts and a turmeric milk. I stood up to go to the toilet and felt that thuddy fuzzy feeling. I also for about 10 minutes thought I was locked in the toilet and considered escaping via the window, trying to heave the lock open using a tissue for grip, before eventually realising what I was trying to pull was a bolt and the door was already unlocked.

We then stopped, as Friday tradition, at a friend named Jorje’s, who is recovering from heart surgery. His wife Mar makes beautiful ceramics and paints them in her workshop with earthy oxides. Like last time, there was a big red bowl of salted popcorn set on the table on our arrival, whilst we dumped two bottles of red wine alongside.

The couple are fascinatingly beautiful and their faces read like maps of their emotional lives. I enjoyed just watching them speak and feeling their energies as the lines in their expressions animated the air. It was also such an incredible experience to be able to converse in Spanish in such a local, fun and unintimidating way. They are such welcoming people and one feels comfortable to say as little or as much as they like.

I tried to express the sentence 'do you think its possible that he committed terrorist activities before he got convicted of this one, but the petty crimes were the only ones the police could get him on?’ in Spanish but totally lost everyone and needed a translator. Sometimes word-for-word translation really does not add up. The expressions in response to my attempt were also fantastic: a slowly developing screwed-up confusion mixed with trying wholeheartedly to interpret.

Just as we were about to leave more friends showed up: Pepe and Jose-Manuel, with homemade pizza and yet more sidra. Their personalities were also highly animated and Nik and I were so happy to snuggle back and just watch as the energies filled up the room. There was so much warmth, and it felt real to interpret that the meeting was about so much more than the words themselves. It was the friendship, the care for each other, and the playing out of their roles as animated; ridiculous; supportive; encouraging; humorous.

Eventually with our eyelids losing life, we piled back into the truck and headed home for hot chocolate and bed. It was a special night filled with warmth and collectivity. This was kind of why it hurt the next morning (Saturday) to be lambasted for arriving late to breakfast.

I felt so disappointed by the sudden change in demeanour that I decided to confront it head on. I went into the cabin and said 'You know when you said that every time you speak I look like something inside me is making me want to kill you?’

'Yes yes but that was one of my many, poor, jokes’

'But it wasn’t that much of a joke and I want to explain..the whole time here, since day one, has been a painful trigger of childhood memories..'etc

We sat down and talked, him mostly, and it felt productive. The most important thing to me was that we hugged. I really feel the need to connect with people and share love and good feelings and I find it hard when I cant do this. Helping people is also something that I find instinctive and maybe when I cant I also feel quite purposeless. Perhaps part of this journey is finding peace with that, or being able to cope in a manner less emotionally destabilising. Perhaps it is part of knowing when to relent.

Now things are easier and I have found a way to manage the conversation in a way that doesn’t make me feel controlled or bullied. It’s still hard because sometimes talking can start to feel more like a battle than a conversation, but it is getting easier as I feel stronger. This 'Dad’s family’ psychodrama situation has also been shaping for both of us, allowing to understand the progression from child to definite adult, with definite preferences, thoughts, feelings, and the definite option to act on them. We are free.

Lying down, talking through old instances, old pains and things that have bubbled up to the surface or rained down through the clouds on the tops of these mountains, have allowed us to feel good about what we now see in our reality: snow-topped peaks, eucalyptus trees, grassy banks and planted fig trees. We chose this life and it is ours to do with what we like. We can choose happiness and living the life that we want, and that is okay.

[allsortsotings]

UNCUT.

There’s always a little more to the story when writing, and I wasn’t sure whether to open this up for other people to read. But as its relevance occupies as much space as the other, more lighthearted stuff, I’ve decided to make it an addition.

I find in travelling and adventure things can unexpectedly come up to haunt or test you, and this had been brewing for me with an issue of male dominance. Maybe part of it is not liking being told what to do in general. But then in a work environment that shouldn’t really be an issue.

The feeling first arose after dinner when I felt like the person in the self-labelled ‘patriarchal seat’ was dominating the conversation. Dominating the floor and also interrupting people to own the power to speak. This was when Istarted thinking and analysing, probably overly so to my own disadvantage. Everyone else at the table was gripped by the conversation and noticeably in a state of enjoyment. My eyes fell to the ground and i felt a deep, familiar sadness grip my heart. I couldn’t think of any words to say or any actions that would make the moment more enjoyable or lift me from the slump that had developed.

I quickly started to feel invisible and almost inhuman so went to shower Victorian-style, taking a candelabra to the stone bathroom. The water poured over my face and I tried to understand why I was so unhappy. It was so familiar: that’s why I knew it couldn’t be a direct issue with the person at the head of the table. When I realised it could be a projection, it clicked.

I decided to speak directly to the person in question about the issue. This was brought up after a big lunch at La Candadosa - as a friend once said: ‘only discuss important things after dinner or a buffet’. At the time I felt that it went well as we all said how we were finding things and the response to the dominance issue was that sometimes you can feel like you’re being dominated, but thats not the case at all. And sometimes you have to decide whether to let yourself be dominated.

I tried to sort of find a way with this in either being sassy as a response to dominance or simply saying what I think. This kind of worked for a while but maybe because we’ve been getting on with other stuff. The weekend we had a lot of time off and I tried to organise it so we got to do things we wanted to do like walk up a mountain in the morning then rake the grass later whilst listening to the minirig (heaven).

But now its Tuesday and back to work and before we’ve actually even begun working I’m feeling that drained voiceless feeling again. Just during breakfast. Ive tried to understand it in my own head and I think it comes from that feeling that the other person totally underestimates who you are and something in their tone implies that they think you are inexperienced and naive. How do you go about fixing that? Or making it an environment you enjoy?

‘Listen pal. I may only have a few years but I got a lot of experience. You don’t need to tell me how to do everything.’>>Obviously not. I don't wanna not get on with people or feel bad energy or not be motivated to work but here I am using the guise of feeling ill to hide out in the cabin and ramble my thoughts into a googledoc. Friends, please advise. Do I look for something else? Do I take this challenge as an opportunity to change and heal? Am I being a silly? I just want to have lovely times with lovely people where we have a laugh and speak on the same level. Peace.

[allsortsotings]

SPAIN LIFE: MUJAR

Ive been meaning to sit down and properly write an account of the last few weeks for, well, the last few weeks.

Moving to Spain has been a thing on the life agenda for years and now that it has happened it feels so normal. People often ask how we ended up here and the answer is ‘it just kind of..happened.’

Uprooting everything and leaving the country is a lot easier than it sounds. Just plan lightly and steadily for a few months then pack everything you own into a big bag some hours before your flight.

Watching Netflix’s minimalism documentary before going made being materialistically ruthless a lot easier. Less than a week later I may have moaned about charity-shopping an old faithful denim dress but another week after that and it’s forgotten. Clothes don’t really matter when you’re digging a hole to plant a fig tree on the side of a mountain.

I’m currently writing this from a tiny-house in a place called La Candadosa whilst Torben, or Jupiter, prepares some garden pumpkin with giant pepper and brown rice for lunch. I pulled some spring green-esque leaves and chopped them ready for a sprinkle of nutmeg and olive oil. Andreas, our workaway host, has taken the Sunday for quality time with his mujer, who also lives in Asturias building a massage retreat in her panera. A panera is a building specific to Asturias, its a kind of square barn house with a wooden wall around the top layer which was traditionally used for storing the grains and other dried foods.

Lidia’s is now converted to a sleeping house and dining area for guests and volunteers. Earlier in the week we were welcomed to hers with old jazz records inviting us in to see the table laid with a transparent tray of salad leaves, large bowled shining wine glasses and the low wooden beams making the otherwise cold room rather cosy.

Lidia’s new volunteer Zelah had arrived shortly before us and we connected instantly with a flame of energy. The conversation was filled with a slowly burning excitement which fuelled prospective of a future ecocommunity and networking the many existing permaculture projects in Asturias.

Permaculture is basically finding a way to make growing things sustainable and environmentally friendly. Finding a way to live wholesomely and healthily without making the climate suffer was a big part of the reason we decided to leave England. There are a lot of these projects going on in parts of Europe and we plan to travel through them learning how best to run an ecocommunity.

The big dream is to have an ecocommunity which is envisioned as some kind of large dome in which to do yoga, meditation and disco. There’ll be gardening, growing food, making music, writing, painting and work that makes people happy.

Before embarking on such a task, it seems advisable to experience versions of these realities whilst developing to at least in some way fledged human beings. No one can ever be a fully fledged adult, that would be too serious.

In our bunk above the dinner table four of us talked deeply about life and those personal themes that can be hard not to take with us everywhere. Everyone was so open. We spoke of loneliness, addiction, depression and healing from that. Despite the melancholic nature of the topics, the discussion was uplifting and held a warm tone to it. Already that feeling of communal living has started to creep through into our expanding hearts.

At first we were thinking of finding some kind of apartment or flat in the city and working a bit/socialising/meeting great people but now we are volunteering with workaway we’re quite sure that travelling first is the best option. Also the renewed lust for that communal feeling has somewhat overtaken the desire for a personal space. Life is just better with people.

Oviedo, the city we flew to, is nice but doesn’t feel quite real. The whole thing is almost like being in an open air museum. In one sense that’s lovely, because you have the hill coming down from the cathedral with Tierra Astur and other restaurants pouring Sidra into fragile 70cl glasses as has been done for years in this region. The sidra is made and harvested all over Asturias and is often produced by locals using their own apple orchards. A bottle with enough for six glasses costs about €1 in shops and little more at a restaurant. The custom is to use one glass and drink the whole lot in quick succession amongst friends. Its daily consumption with all meals at La Candadosa is justified by the claimed health benefits of the fermented apples. I’m happy to believe it.

The dull warm buzz it gives reverberates around the pubs, cafes and bars of Asturias, with every customer wishing those who leave ‘hasta luego’ or ‘buenas’ with a smile as they enter. People are friendly, warm and welcoming.

Cheese and cured meats are also hugely popular here, and though I enjoyed all of the traditional culture and play happening every night in Oviedo, after about the fifth day I did start to question the meaning of life. An entry in the bullet journal that day is simply ‘life: meaningless?’. The thoughts lead mostly to the conclusion that finding fulfilling work and flow is neccessary: bar hopping and even sitting in parks eating fruit will eventually become monotonous.

One thing that I truly must point out a love for, however, is the theme and philosophy of Asturian culture which is wonderful: mujar. This means to mop up the juices, to wipe every last bit of olive oil, tortilla and fresh tomato off your plate with a large hunk of crusty white pan. Asturian culture does not waste or take for granted; it savours, devours and celebrates, literally all the juice from the bone. I’ve admittedly been close to a moment of vegetarian weakness in the face of barbecued pork ribs atop a mountain of oily chips in a warm and wooden family barn in Novellana. Sidra and salad saved me.

The place we stay eats almost wholly vegetarian food. Stews, curries, vegetable pasta, salad, etc, so it has been easy and enjoyable to eat with so many other people.

Not only do we share food but knowledge and experience. I’ve learned about gardening, planting trees, mulching (‘mulch is king’), building a sauna, astrology, group healing, permaculture and some Ancient Greek tales recounted in an Irish accent.

Astrology is now a topic of specific interest. It’s endeavour is unlimited, and I’m now more spiritually sure of myself as a swamp witch. Michevious pranks are now followed with the comment ‘that’s a classic Scorpio joke’.

We are so much happier living in the grass roofed Pilgrim’s Cabin just off the route of el Camino de Santiago, with our stuff sprawled across low mattresses and muddy boots at the foot of the chestnut doors. There’s even an enamel tin bedpan hanging on the branch outside, which is a dream come true.

There’s a lot more to say, but first I’ll take further time to mujar: absorb that cultural richness of Asturian life.

[allsortsotings]

HIP HOP N FOOD

Made a whole playlist dedicated to songs that rap about the good lord food.

Includes items such as:

DEAD PREZ “Be Healthy” (Let’s Get Free, 2000)

‘this ode to healthy eating provides a great rebuttal to critics who say rap music is a bad influence.’ - Time Out, New York

https://open.spotify.com/user/lovellie/playlist/4iXUB3T7fs3lRf5bonS5wz

[allsortsotings]

The joy of life

[allsortsotings]

VEGAN AVOCADO BRIOCHE

Have made this twice now to go with Half Baked Harvest’s beetroot superfood hot chocolate. It’s a lovely pastel green til the end but I promise it turns out like a corn coloured yellow.

BUTTERLESS AVOCADO BRIOCHE November 12, 2008 By Vaishali

Author: Holy Cow! Vegan Recipes Recipe type: Bread Cuisine: Vegan Serves: 12 Time: 1 hour

INGREDIENTS 1 package active dry yeast (2¼ tsp) ⅓ cup almond milk (can use soy milk), warm 1 cup all-purpose flour 2¼ cups bread flour 2 ripe avocados, mashed until there are no lumps. Squeeze a few drops of lemon juice into the avocado so it remains bright green. 2 tbsp almond or soy milk 2 tbsp sugar ½ tsp salt 2 tbsp vegan “butter” like Smart Balance or Earth Balance (I used 1 tbsp coconut oil, ½ tbsp olive oil mixed with a splash of almond milk)

INSTRUCTIONS Mix the yeast and almond milk in a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer and let stand 5 minutes.

Add to the bowl the all-purpose flour, mashed avocados, non-dairy milk, sugar, salt, and flour.

Mix well until ingredients have blended together. Then add the bread flour and knead by hand for about 15 minutes or on low-medium speed in a stand mixer for about 8-10 minutes. The dough will be smooth and elastic and although it will appear sticky, it won’t stick to your fingers.

Add the vegan butter and knead on medium-high speed or by hand until the butter is incorporated into the dough.

Place the dough in an oil-coated bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and place in a warm place for about 1½ hours or until doubled.

Punch the dough down, then cover again and let rise for another 2 hours.

To shape the dough, divide it into four equal portions. Shape each portion into a smooth ball.

Spray oil on the inside of a standard 9 X 5-inch loaf pan. Place the four balls of dough touching each other inside the loaf pan. Brush with some olive oil mixed with salt.

Cover loosely with oiled plastic wrap and let rise another hour or until the loaf fills the pan and mushrooms over it.

Brush some more of the olive-oil-salt mixture over the top. Bake in a 375-degree oven about 30 minutes.

© All recipes and photographs copyright of Holy Cow! Vegan Recipes.

http://holycowvegan.net/butterless-avocado-brioche/

[allsortsotings]

THE ELECTRIC FEEL TEST "I was in the car with him. And he was nice, everything was nice. "We'd had fun, it was nice. "He turned on the radio, and Electric Feel by MGMT came on. "I didn't have the electric feel. "Since then, I always check for the feel. "Thanks MGMT." This one goes out to Anonymous

[allsortsotings]

For more beautiful images go to @alphachanneling