Hanging out with Moira

Moorish lunch in Jerez Andulucia

Seville Alcatraz

Sometimes it's only on reflection that you realize how special a time you had.  Having my Mum along for 5 weeks was one of those times.  For me it was bliss to have another woman for company and particularly one who savoured  the beauty of Spanish / Moorish architecture and history and had no compunction about dragging some whining grandsons along for their edification when they long since worn down my resolve. 


There would be more photos of Mum (and me)on the blog if she were not craning her head to view some vaulted ceiling or towering cathedral steeple though this is exactly what I so appreciate about her.  Together we walked through and documented the great structures of Moorish Spain.  We would have loved to live in the Alcatraz of Seville, wafting in and out of the gardens, reclining under a terrace, gazing at a alabaster patterned ceiling of exquisite geometric pattern, whilst listening to the rhythmic fall of water from a courtyard fountain and sipping mint tea.  Two boisterous grandsons in need of exercise slammed that fantasy.

Beauty at the Alhambra

a typical day with the lads

Snow falling at the Parador

Another reason we appreciated the company of Grandma – she is a masterful deflector and absorber when called upon.  Travelling with 2 colt brumbies in a car packed to the gills from one end of Spain to the other should result in a meltdown.  Mum astutely remained absorbed in Finbar’s intricate recounting of complicated computer games, movie plots and Greek mythology. She obviously paid attention, asking all the right questions, for his firm opinion now is that Grandma is a genius and it must have skipped a generation.  She thoughtfully bought Sholto a new animal to replace his beloved Aeroplane ( a toy dog given to Sho at birth from Mum+ Dad and sadly left on a swing + lost in Greece- he has built a memorial to him on the yacht).  We named him Monkey Matix and he’s not allowed to leave the yacht.  As compensation M.M gets a full recount of that day’s activities with a Sholto slant – Grandma would not believe what Herculean feats have been attributed to her.

If we all HAD to elect a favourite time with Grandma/ Moira/Mum it would be a toss up between the Hotel Albanjon in Los Lagunas de Ruderia , the Parador at Sierra de Gredos, or the Hotel del Oso in the Picos de Europa.  All these places had stunning physical landscapes complemented by generous comfortable living quarters and great food.  Being the only guests at the Albanjon we had our own private dining, kids in bed, real duck liver pate and great vino.  At the Parador, the kids shared with Grandma (eureka), it was like the Hydro Majestic back in its heyday, and the snow falling kept us happily ensconced for 5 days.  At the Oso we really could make a permanent booking – everyone had their own space, the vistas are jaw dropping stunning and well the food and did we mention the wine….

stunning Picos de Europa

Hotel del Oso

If any of you have wondered how the in law relationship went then I have to say Steve and Mum must be in the harmonic category.  Here I was counting on someone reasonable to subtly enforce a restriction if not complete withdrawal on the alcohol consumption of beloved spouse.   Mum couldn’t see that proposition had any legs (or joy), preferring Pliny’s reasoning that wine gives good and long life.  Well if you can’t beat them….

Really pondering the next drop

We all went to Paris because Mum was going there.  And well its Paris and my sister Clare was going too, we could celebrate her birthday and I could offload the kids on Steve and the Stack women could go shopping.  I meant viewing famous monuments, visiting copious famous galleries, dining at fabulous famous places, walking endless famous streets, photographing iconic famous vistas, glimpsing extraordinary famous people (Clare + I saw you WOODY + your ex daughter oops wife) and shopping.

Clare, Lucy Pinter + Mum Paris cafe for lunch

Actually in Barcelona  - yum

I don’t know why Mum isn’t a complainer but hanging out with two daughters who insist on walking across 3 arrondisements because there is a must see shop does take endurance.  Even when Mums five days were up I kept at it and it probably was one factor in many (bloody Sunday metro) in aiding the missing of a certain flight to Sardinia.  We did have a great birthday lunch for Clare at Au Petit Fer Cheval, so good that Steve + I snuck back another night.  I think that and the mass at Notre Dame with the melodious voice of the priest and the soaring beauty of the singing were the highlights, before we all said a rushed au revoir to Mum who arrived safely back in Northbridge to be greeted by Aunty Jenny and carrying an extra 20 kilo bag.  Thanks Mum!