To go or not to go, that is the question...

Err, does this say how ill I am?

AND LASTLY, at least for today, I’d just like to share this thought with you. An agency headline in the papers today quoted a Catalan regional government press release, saying - The latest fatal Swine Flu victim went to hospital “too late”.

That’s eight dead in Spain, and counting… of course.

So what do you do if you think you have Swine Flu? See a doctor, no?

Err, don’t think so, at least not initially. We’ve been advised recently by the Spanish health service, through the media, to stay away from health centres and hospitals unless we are really ill (a bit of a dodgy one that, as we’ve no thermometer that says if we are - a little ill, quite ill, ill, looking pretty sick, really ill, seriously ill or just about to pop our clogs)

We’re told not to block up our GP’s waiting room and generously share our germs with our long-suffering doc and other patients. The message is clear – stay away, at least initially. Until what? Until it’s “too late”?

Difficult one, isn’t it? If I feel ill, if I have Swine Flu symptoms, do I see a doctor and get diagnosed, thus aiding a speedy recovery or do I wait until I feel desperately ill and take a chance I might not get better?

Is Swine Flu more of a killer than our usual winter run-of-the-mill flu that does the rounds? It doesn’t appear to be yet. Do we usually see a doctor when we have flu? I guess not, unless we are really ill… What would you do?

Hot July

AS YOU'LL have guessed by now, I am a bit of a weather friki so just had to include this snippet – and as the coastline is just heaving with tourists baring pasty winter flesh (yes, even the Spaniards) to turn a golden brown, I've included a snap from our very short holiday last week (more about that another time if you're unlucky...)

July registered the highest average temperatures in this area since 1949. Nine alerts of forecasts for temperatures of more than 40 degrees were issued by meteorologists during the month and the average daily maximum was 32.3 degrees. The average minimum was 22 degrees, just half a degree less than during July 2008.

Am I grateful for the aircon, or what…

Weather today: Hot and sweaty - High 32ºC/90ºF Low 23ºC/73 ºF. Early morning sea mist along the coast that was soon burnt off by the sun. Not a cloud in the sky. Light southwesterly wind 15km/h. Pressure 1015 mb. Relative humidity 51%. UV index: 10.

Tragic run

Ermitaño takes umbrage but the runner survived
Chaos as Ermitaño ploughs into runners

SO MUCH has happened since I last blogged. Too much to put in one entry, your eyes would just cross. My middle name should have been Keepmeaningto.

Tragically, the day after I wrote my last entry on San Fermin, a young man from Madrid was killed. Twenty-seven-year-old Daniel Jimeno was an experienced runner and aficionado de toros, but was in the wrong place at the wrong time. One of the Jandilla bulls, by the name of Capuchino, gored Daniel in the neck, severing an artery. The medical team moved swiftly and got him to the operating theatre in record time, but the surgeons couldn’t save him.

Ten more runners were injured, most of them by the same bull. One was a 60-year-old American who had a serious head injury. Americans, and foreigners in general, are notorious for getting hurt in San Fermin. Either from lack of experience or sheer foolhardiness. This was one of the worst encierros I have seen.

Two days later (it’s an 8-day affair) a Miura bull named Hermitaño took umbrage with another experienced runner, just outside the bullring, and attacked him continuously, despite other men’s efforts to distract the beast. From the TV footage you’d never think the runner’d survive – but he did, despite being gored twice and thrown around like a sack of potatoes. It is always a question of luck – good or bad – on where they get gored that determines whether they survive.

Moving on –

A load of bull

I CAN'T begin to describe how San Fermin got under my skin – it just did. The first time I remember getting hooked was nine years ago, while we were in the middle of a building frenzy on the house, although I’m sure I watched it before then, on and off. But for the last nine years, I’ve only ever missed watching the running of the bulls through Pamplona’s historic streets at the beginning of the July, if I’ve been ill.

From July 7 at 8am for half an hour each morning, until July 14, I’m just not there for anyone. The Hockey Star used to watch it with me, but since he’s become a fully fledged teenager, it gets in the way of his sleeping through ‘til lunchtime. In any case, he was always very censorious of me, because I ooh and aah (as you do) if someone gets tossed by a bull or if a mound of men pile up in front of the oncoming horns. And he can’t stand the fact that I sing the chant to the Virgen along with the runners before the race starts. Just a party pooper – no fun. Minimama has never professed any interest but it could have something to do with the date coinciding with the beginning of the school summer holidays.

So today was the third encierro so far this year – and luckily no one has been gored yet, though a few have been carted off to hospital with concussion, contusions and a couple of lads have had a close encounter with a horn, which has punctured their flesh, but no proper goring. It’s a risky business. At least 14 people have been killed over the decades.

I’m dead against bullfighting, and I know that the horned beasts that run the streets will turn up in Pamplona’s bullring in the afternoon, but I am fascinated by the encierro. If I was young and in Pamplona I’d have to have a go – but I’m middle-aged and my running’s not up to scratch so if I ever get to be there for the fiestas – I’ll be content to get a spot to watch them rush by.

If you’d like to learn more there are countless sites on internet – just google San Fermin or take a look at this pretty basic web - http://www.navarra.com/english/sanfermin/index.htm
Or better still - check out the Spanish TV site - http://www.rtve.es/noticias/sanfermines/2009/even though it's not in English you can see photos - click on the fotografías tab at the top or videos. There is also a section on how not to be a guiri (foreigner). They're notorious for behaving badly.

My poor little girl

TODAY I’d just like to say that my little girl (she’s only 20) has been very poorly. Minimama, as we call her, on account of her being a younger, more clever, more beautiful and slimmer version of me (I know, I didn’t think it was possible to better the present, but there you go – wrong again hey) has been smitten by a nasty bug over in Ecuador where she’s living right now.

She’s had a fever, cough and flu-like systems as well as a dodgy digestive system. She's felt very rough, but the worrying thing is she was at a wedding with another girl who has been diagnosed as having swine flu, or whatever you want to label it. Luckily Minimama is on the mend and the hospital she went to doesn’t think she has the same problem, just a touch of a stomach infection. I felt quite useless half the way around the world.

Here are some get well flowers just for you… And a kiss from the Hockey Star, the Artist, Kitty, Sockiboloski and Tom. Hope to see you soon!

PS - Just seven days until San Fermin starts in Pamplona - I'm getting excited already...

Weather today: Hot and sweaty - High 32ºC/90ºF Low 23ºC/73 ºF. Not a cloud in the sky. Light southwesterly wind 12km/h. Pressure 1016 mb. Relative humidity 56%. UV index: 11.

Plum season

THIS year our little plum tree has surpassed itself and yielded almost 2 kilos of fruit. I’d like to take credit for this – having nurtured, watered it, and catered for its every whim. But I’d be lying. The plum tree has adapted to my brand of organic – thrive or die. There is no special treatment as I’ve no time. All that is left, quite naturally, is a garden of survivors. So, well done plum tree and let’s be seeing an extra kilo or two next year.

And while I’m on the fruit subject – I''m already looking forward to lots of apples this autumn - the tree is positively groaning while the grapefruit tree struggles to give fruit every other year. This spring it was covered in blossom but the vicious winds in April knocked most of them off, which is a good thing because the poor little tree looks barely big enough to stand up – and it is ancient so it must have been planted on some pretty poor soil.

Weather today: High 32ºC/90ºF Low 22ºC/72 ºF. Not a cloud in the sky. Light southwesterly wind 11km/h. Pressure 1012 mb. Relative humidity 55%. UV index: 10.

Ayyyyy, they’ve axed my Aquagym

Just got back from the gym. Yes, me. Incredible I know but two months ago I signed up to an exercise programme, under careful medical scrutiny. Not a doctor as I had thought but a chap in a white coat with a degree in sports. In any case, my Not Doc was very thorough and as soon as he heard my knees crackle like crisp packets he sent me off to Aquagym classes which was probably all the Fitness Centre’s insurance would cover me for.

Aquagym is a small group of ladies of a certain age and girth, who perform aerobic-like exercises (that’s the theory) in a waist-deep swimming pool to the thump-thump-thump of disco music while a young, svelte slip of a thing yells instructions from the pool’s side. It must be an attention-grabber because we inevitably draw a sweaty audience from the upper floor gym. For The Artist, who is at least as athletic as me, this whole thing conjured up images of the dancing hippos from Walt Disney’s Fantasia. How rude…

Actually it’s probably worse than that. We go red in the face too which the hippos didn’t. I thoroughly enjoy the whole thing, except perhaps the ladies’ communal showers. My legs no longer feel like cement blocks when I get out of the pool after our class and I feel so much fitter.

I even thought I was on my way to becoming thin. Not so, said Not Doc who soon clarified that a little water-bouncing was never going to make me thin, just tone me up a bit.

He must be right. Since then I’ve met several girlfriends who swear they go to the gym every day from Monday to Thursday to do excessive, masochistic exercise routines. Rather disappointingly they still sport their usual porky silhouettes.

But today I heard crushing news. The FC management swines have wiped our Aquagym off the timetable - changed for the summer while the Fitness Centre is overrun with kids – out of school for the three-month academic break. Ayyyyeeeee - How frustrating. I mean it’s OK for me not to go because it’s not convenient/I’m too tired/I’m too old/too busy/got to have a tooth pulled etc. But for THEM to cancel our class until October – How could they?

I have come home and opened a bottle of cava to commiserate with myself. Now I shall be forced to spend my summer evenings with my feet up, quaffing chilled white wine and enjoying some splendid Spanish cuisine … life is tough.