Skip to main content

Jazz on a Thursday evening

We have a Jazz Festival in Cartagena with ten concerts spread over a couple of weeks. It's held in a most unlikely looking theatre which seems to form the ground floor of a block of flats. As soon as the tickets went on sale I was dispatched to the box office to get some. My guess is that Maggie chose the two acts on the basis that one of them (Brad Mehldau) made an album with her hero Pat Metheny whilst the other Ryuichi Sakamoto had a brief period of fame along with David Sylvian, the one who painted his face white and had a band called Japan, around 1984. Sakamoto was also in the film Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence along with David Bowie around the same time.

Now I don't mind jazz. It's an awful lot better than that Simply Red/Norah Jones stuff you have to put on otherwise when people come to eat at your house. In a boozer, with a cigar in one hand, a beer in the other (and with the music reduced to background noise), it's more or less perfect. Actually I suppose that doesn't happen any more - there aren't any fags in boozers in the UK anymore are there? There's almost no restriction on smoking in bars here, though, in a bid to grow obese, I've not taken advantage of that opportunity for the last couple of months. Breathing better, likely to breath longer but not enjoying each breath quite so much.

Anyway, back to this jazz. So we went to the Brad Mehldau concert this evening. The crowd was the usual sort of jazz crowd, a disproportionate number of men with beards or with long hair and a bald spot, lots of young boys who looked like they would get bullied at school and not much evidence of regualr clothes buying amongst either the male or female crowd. Nearly everyone was taking pictures with their phones, iPods or PSPs - hardly anyone had a recognisable camera. The theatre was a bit scruffy, probably built about thirty to forty years ago and waiting for its first refit and it was maybe half to three quarters full - I'd guess around 400 people. Brad didn't have a lot to say. He got cross, threw his sweat towel on the floor and swore at a bloke taking photos with a proper camera at one point and he introduced the other two members of the trio just before they left the stage. That was it. He was fine, I'm sure he'd be good at a dinner party.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Looking for a flat

Finding a house to rent in Spain is usually a pretty straightforward process. When I say house I really mean flat because, although it's not impossible to find houses in the middle of a town or city, by far the most usual style of dwelling for urban Spaniards is the flat.
I need to qualify this a bit further. It's easy to find a place if you are willing to pay an estate agent. The other options involve walking around random streets looking for to rent signs with your mobile phone to hand. We've only ever done it a couple of times and it has not produced good results.
The internet has made it a slightly less fraught process to find an individual renter and the place that Maggie rented in Ciudad Rodrigo came that way. Even then it takes ages to sift through the various websites usually to find that nobody answers your email or phone call except for the estate agents.
The estate agent method is the most straightforward but also the most costly. The standard charging process…

La vuelta al curro

Certain Spanish soft news stories do the rounds each year. Spanish summer ends on 1 September and as people return to work the news always includes little filler pieces about how difficult it is to go back. In a couple of weeks time the story will be the cost of text books as the youngsters return to school. Back to school is la vuelta al cole, la vuelta al curro is what I've just done, back to work.

In fact we both started work today. We intended to leave Culebrón yesterday evening so we could unpack but the cat sensed something and scarpered so we had to put it off till this morning. Horrid, up at 5.30 - long before dawn. It was bad enough for Maggie after two months off but pity me - eighteen months since I last had a proper job. The strain! - polished shoes, shirt with collar, new people to meet, new routines to learn.

I'm working at the Wall Street Institute in Cartagena and everyone was welcoming and friendly. The centre has a good positive feel to it and the teaching me…

Where am I?

When I wrote the last post on this blog - Looking for a flat - I should really have written it on the Life in Culebrón blog because that's where I am at the moment.

In fact, apart from working in Cartagena it looks as though my links with the place are about to be cut. I am in the process of signing up for a flat in La Unión and the logic of naming the blogs must mean that the active ones are the places where I have a kettle. La Unión and El Culebrón.

There is a tab at the top of the page to navigate there or this is the link