Janet Street-Porter is a Marmite celebrity; with her forthright views, distinctive, quirky look and abhorence of being hugged by anyone outside her immediate circle, you love her or you can’t stand her. I fall into the former category. I admire her for being herself and telling it as it is and I tend to only watch Loose Women when she’s on the panel.
Janet comes across as a strong woman with a large circle of friends so I was a bit surprised to find out that she’s admitted to being lonely. Apparently a couple of months ago she realised she … Read the rest »
The story of the Sale of Avocado Cottage is a book in itself, spread over possibly the longest, most stressful year of my life. I have written about some of what happened – much of which you couldn’t make up. And many things went on that made this possibly the longest sale of property in history!
For example; when the buyers went to the Loans Officer at CUB to apply for a mortgage in December she told them they don’t usually do mortgages in December, only car loans. And this certainly seemed to be the case … Read the rest »
Finally! After leaving her here ten months ago I’m back in Ibiza with the Daughter. And it’s bloody lovely! She’s made a life for herself here; her Spanish has come on in leaps and bounds; she’s made friends and not only has she got a great job that she excels at, she’s also got a beautiful little flat that she’s made into a home. This is the view before me as I write this:
It’s overcast today with no breeze, so it’s pleasant and the sea is calm. Every night since I’ve been here I’ve fallen asleep to the sound … Read the rest »
Goodness me, it’s been a while since I put fingertips to keyboard and posted something for you. Sincere apologies! But there are two fundamental reasons for my extended silence.
The first, it’s all been bad news really and nobody wants to read about other people’s problems; most have enough with their own without having to listen to mine. 2017 was a tough old year – three hurricanes, the sale of Avocado Cottage falling through four times, banging my head against a brick wall against so many people and things in both Antigua and UK, finding myself with … Read the rest »
What a wonderful week it was when the Daughter settled into her new life on Ibiza. This photo was taken at Cala Conta on a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon. We’d had a lovely weekend exploring all corners and coasts of the White Island as the Daughter refreshed her knowledge of the place where she spent her early childhood; where she’s chosen to settle down.
I was full of admiration for her, the way she hit the ground running, starting her new job just fifteen hours after our plane touched down. She’s taken to it all like a duck to water … Read the rest »
What a difference thirty years made! Regular readers will remember my post from last year- The Great Escape – https://www.elainespires.co.uk/journal/2016/06/the-great-escape/ in which I shared what happened on 18th June 1986 when I left Ibiza with my four-year-old.
In that post I explained we had one battered, loaned suitcase containing a change of clothes for the Daughter and a clean pair of knickers for myself.
Yesterday, we came back.
The Daughter is moving back to her roots and I came along to help. As you can see, we have slightly more than one case this time- but only the little, red … Read the rest »
It was the loveliest week imaginable, the one I recently spent with The Daughter on Ibiza. It was lovely on so many levels, too.
I was chuffed to see her back in the place of her early years and to see that she fits in totally. You can’t deny your roots, at least she certainly can’t. She is unmistakably Spanish. Her use of the language improved by the day and everyone was keen to ask her about her background. The head-waiter in our hotel asked if she was Latin-American, which, given that her father is Uruguayan, she is, saying she … Read the rest »
Well, what a whistlestop trip it was! On Wednesday lunchtime I left Stansted to fly to Ibiza on business, stayed over night and came back Thursday evening.
There was a gasp and a sharp intake of breath from the Daughter when I said I was flying Ryanair. “Are you mad?” She asked me. What a way to speak to your mother! But she had a terrible ordeal at Ryanair’s hands a couple of years ago and vowed never to travel with them again, and she hasn’t. I was very apprehensive, especially as my Because-I’m-Worth-It philosophy has meant that I haven’t … Read the rest »