Send in the Clouds?

I have an confession to make - I love clouds (no sniggering at the back, please). From the humble Cirrus and Cumulus to the more spectacular Mammatus and Lenticularis, I love them all.

And I am not alone in this respect as the 25307 (soon to be 25308) members of the Cloud Appreciation Society (http://cloudappreciationsociety.org/) will testify.

For the sceptical amongst you, here is a short film I have put together with photos of the Sierra Nevada mountains taken from the ringside seat that is our house.

Xmas and the Helicopter

It’s now December and the festive season will soon be upon us. The skies are blue but temperatures have plummeted at night and the wind cuts to the bone. The snow capped mountains of the Sierra Nevada are a tempting sight for us skiers.

The other year the kids bought me a remote control helicopter as a Xmas present. Resisting the temptation to open the box on Xmas Eve, I woke up like an excited child the following morning to prepare for the inaugural flight.

The first signs were not promising – inadequate altitude and insufficient/excessive acceleration coupled with incompetent aeronautics – so I decided to move out of the safe environs of the sitting-room and into the thrill but dangers of the street. The blades rotated at speed, the vertical take-off was magnificent and the helicopter soared……… backwards. I suddenly realised that unless I took immediate action my new toy was destined for a tragic watery end in the Mediterranean so I ditched it and the helicopter made a less than graceful landing on a neighbour’s roof.

I cautiously knocked on his door. Now, I may know a few Spanish words but ‘Apologies for disturbing you on this most holy of days but my spanking new remote control helicopter has gone into a tail-spin and appears to have lodged itself on your rickety corrugated asbestos roof’ tested me to the limit. Without batting an eyelid, Francisco proceeded to place a ladder on his upper terrace and climb onto the roof. He returned a few minutes later, helicopter in hand, and rather disappointedly asked ‘Is this it?’, clearly having expected to find a full-scale model.

As we descended, I noticed the rather large cannabis plant on his patio. Perhaps this explained his relaxed frame of mind.

To Catch a Thief

'There is nothing in life so cruel as to be blind in Granada' - Francisco Alarcon de Icaza

With its Moorish heritage and the magical backdrop of the snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada mountains, Granada is a beautiful and evocative city. It is defined by its hills and by its history, from the steep narrow cobbled streets of the Albaycin quarter to the magnificent Alhambra Palace.

Although considered safer than many tourist destinations, it does alas suffer from its share of low level crime.

A couple of years ago, as we were enjoying an alfresco dinner, a dishevelled drunk grabbed La Jefa’s mobile phone from the table and ran off down the alleyway. Yours truly, full of bravado, leapt to his feet to chase after the man. The spirit was willing but the flesh weak as my legs went from under me on the city’s notoriously slippery pavements.

I picked myself up, dusted myself down and, undeterred by the barely disguised mirth of our fellow diners, set off in hot pursuit. My cries of ‘Stop Thief’ went ignored by the locals enjoying their tinto and tapas in the warm evening air. It was only afterwards that I realised that it was their lack of English rather than lack of sympathy for my plight that stopped them from coming to my aid.

Against the odds, I eventually caught up with the perpetrator, admittedly probably due more to his inebriated state rather than my athletic prowess. Then it dawned on me – what do I now do to retrieve the mobile? The answer came in the form of one of the many sub-Saharan immigrants who sell their wares on the streets of the city. ‘Let me help you’ he said, grabbing the man by the scruff of the neck and planting a Glaswegian kiss on his forehead. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ I mused as the man fell to the ground. My good Samaritan prised the phone from his hand and gave it to me before disappearing into the shadows.

I strode purposefully back to the restaurant, mobile proudly held high, milking the applause of the locals who had been watching the chase with bemusement. ‘Don’t tell anyone but I think I’ve torn my hamstring’ I whispered to La Jefa as she supported me back to the car.