Squelching and squelching...

At least we found the couple of hours we needed to go to the beach...


Of course he went into the dirty waters overflown by seagulls...


It's getting warmer and warmer each day.

And from now on, we'll be very happy to receive your birthday and christmas cards...

Removal process II

Little by little it's getting there, and so we can sort of start settling down at Ample. This morning we've been to the book market and then to a coffeeshop, where it seems we've been taking our portraits in an odd way.


I've got almost no pictures of myself, and given that Magnús doesn't obviously have any idea about how to take good pictures, I don't think this will change... He didn't buy any book, but he saw some very interesting books rather difficult to find, which keeps impressing him. I bought this one, one of the compilations of the journals of Anaïs Nin.

This is the church right next to where we live, la iglesia de la Mercè.

In front of Ample 23 there's this other façade of the church which I very much like.

And some spatial evidence combined with the charm of the old town.

Removal process I

Magnús in the morning getting ready for a moving day, some time last week, in my former room in dodgy town.

This is me in my former balcony. I had to leave my huge plant there (see right) since it's so big there's no room for it in the flat. Besides, Magnús wouldn't let me take it. It seems he's getting some of my hitlerian behaviour towards how to do things.

Dodgy town has its dodgy blocks of flats, and therefore it can be somewhat surprising for a red-haired Icelander to find some very big and dead roach downstairs. Dodgy environment involves not removing the dead roach in days, and so I guess it's still there...

And we moved just before he was about to turn into a proper housewife on the terrace! Oh, this terrace I'll miss.

Since we moved, we needed quite a lot of household stuff and so my parents and some friends gave us quite a lot of things. One of them was this potato peeler which came with this paper with nice drawings in it I fell in love with and wanted to keep. Unfortunately it was next to the cooker the first time I cooked something in the flat and so the paper was all on fire. And eventhough Magnús is demonstrating against my keeping many things, I won't throw it away!

Magnús is fed up with me, and I understand: I am a real mess.

But somedays I can make things look rather nice, and I hope he appreciates that too!

Ok, now this will seem an overdose of pictures!

The flat is still a bit untidy, but we'll manage to get it all nice by early next week, since we'll have some friends for an opening dinner.

Old and never-uploaded posts.

Yesterday we started taking all the stuff to the new flat, but we did it all on foot since the flat is just 300 m away from my current flat. Now half of it is already there, but there's still a couple of boxes to carry, and lots of clothes, pieces of furniture, and a mattress to carry. Thank God it's raining a bit today, it is the perfect excuse not to carry much stuff today again. After the struggle to carry up all that weight -suitcases, boxes, chairs, etc- to the 5th floor -and no lift-, we went to the beach which was stuffed with people because it was actually a Sun-day, but nobody was swimming in the sea. Since Magnús had already said that he would get in the water when the temperature outside was 20º, he eventually did and swam a bit while I was eating non-stop, first an apple, and then my Nutella sandwich (and then his Nutella sandwich). Later he ate the last 3 Ballerina biscuits we had bought in Ikea, even though the last one of them was for me... but when I was having it, I started feeling haunted by a big black dog who was smelling it, and so I gave my biscuit to Magnús so that the dog wouldn't eat it, only to see how he himself put it into his mouth, and so I was left with no biscuit at all, while I was shouting at him in the middle of the beach, telling him "Magnús, ¡dame mi galleta!" –“Magnús, give me my biscuit!”

My friend will be getting his cat back this evening. I just phoned him yesterday to let him know that we think that Misifú is having shitting problems. Since the box where he shits was maybe in a not too private part of the flat, we sort of built a shitting house for him with a box so that he would find himself more comfortable, still he sits on the box, tries to shit, but in vain. Then he cries and tries again but nada de nada, so he goes to the terrace and sits on some big pots of plants and scratches the earth and tries to shit but in vain again. We think he shouldn't be fed only with those hard little cookies he gets, but with meat and fish and milk instead. Apart from that, he seems to be ok, but I guess shitting problems spoil anyone's mood.

Flutningar

Thá hef ég manúvrad heilli búslód um gotur Barcelona og borid á bakinu upp á fimmtu haed á Carrer de l'Ample nr. 23. Nú er bara ad koma ollu fyrir, en thad aetti ad verda lodurmannlegt verk: hanabjálkinn er rúmir 40 fermetrar, og thá tel ég ekki med ca. 15 fm geymslupláss undir súd. -- Laía (1:58 cm) getur stadid upprétt thar sem haest er til lofts, en thad gaeti Eva Longoria líka. Hún er 1:57 cm long.



Annars hefur matargerd módur minnar ratad á netid eftir óthekktum leidum. Thessi mynd kom upp thegar ég leitadi ad "aslaug cooking".

"I'm not fat, am I?!" (Magnús dixit)

We promise to keep this up to date with proper pictures, and even though we have some videos to show (but we still don't know how!) for now the only picture we have is this one of me and our lunch some day last week: greens with potatoes, bacon and eggs and salmon.
Ai ai ai...

Wine.

I'm dangerously infatuated with supermarkets, and so when we do the shopping we always end up buying many things (we eat them all up anyway!). Last time we went there we were wondering whether we should get another bottle of wine, and when trying to decide on one, we saw there was a 1euro bottle of wine we could buy, so we thought: 'Hey, last time we bought one for two euros, now let's get two for 1 euro each then!'. And so we did. But after one cup of wine before going to bed a couple of days ago, Magnús started to feel horribly bad, making me get up and get him some milk, then get him a bucket, then hand him the pills for the stomach pains, then shift the side of the bed so he could be next to the bucket. He thinks the bloody wine has burnt a hole in his "vélinda".

Lesendur afsaki thá spaenskukennslu sem sídasta faersla var, en helmingur hennar birtist nú í thýdingu.

Tímabundnu 'beatus ille' kommúnurnar mínar

Síðustu 2 ½ ár hef ég búið í meira eða minna sjö húsum, að meðtöldu því sem við flytjum bráðlega í, og hafa fjögur þeirra verið í Barcelona. Borgin er ansi stór og íbúarnir hrikalega háðir almenningssamgöngum, en mér hefur tekist að sniðganga þær og fer allra minna ferða fótgangandi eða á hjóli. Hef ég ekki tekið metró-lestina oftar en tíu sinnum allan þennan tíma.

Ég hef alltaf búið í gamla bænum, sem því miður er sá ‘túristavænsti’ en vissulega einnig sá þar sem minnstrar mengunar gaetir. Það heyrir til undantekninga að ég sjái bíl og svo fáar umferðargötur ‘krossa’ ég allajafna, að þegar ég kom aftur heim eftir námsdvöl mína í Lundúnum þurfti ég nokkra mánuði til að venjast því að bílarnir koma frá vinstri, enda hef ég svo til eingöngu reynslu af göngugötum hér.

Alltaf...

Lugares comunes de mis "beatus ille" temporales

En los últimos dos años y medio he vivido en más o menos siete casas, contando ésta a la que nos vamos a mudar pronto, y cuatro han sido en Barcelona. La ciudad es bastante grande y horriblemente dependiente del transporte público, pero he conseguido librarme e ir siempre andando o en bici a todas partes, y no he cogido el metro más de diez veces en todo este tiempo.

Siempre he vivido en la parte antigua de la ciudad, desgraciadamente la más turística, pero también, por suerte, la menos 'ahumada'. Casi nunca veo coches. He cruzado tan pocas calles que cuando volví de mi etapa en Londres tardé meses en volver a acostumbrarme a que los coches venían por la izquierda, y es que aquí sólo convivo con calles peatonales.

Siempre ha habido alguna churrería cerca de cada piso en el que he vivido. Por ejemplo, desde mi ventana de la residencia veía el puesto ambulante de churros que en una ocasión alquiló una empresa de eléctricas sueca para rodar un anuncio, y que permanecía abierta hasta altas horas de la noche consecuente con sus extraños horarios. La permanencia de las churrerías no es más que una casualidad, como el resto, pero me alegra pensar que después de tanto cambio hay, en detalles como éstos, algunos matices de la permanencia que aún no puedo encontrar.

Siempre siempre siempre, desde cada habitación en la que he dormido, he podido oír algo que espero que se mantenga: las gaviotas y las campanas de las iglesias que marcan las horas.

Ahora viviremos aún más cerca del puerto así que seguiré oyendo a las gaviotas. Y ayer me di cuenta de que junto a Ample 23 hay una iglesia preciosa con la entrada justo enfrente y que también linda con una plaza. Aún no lo sé, pero puedo imaginar que podré seguir viviendo en Barcelona sin necesidad de relojes.

Aprendizaje.

Learning Spanish in Cataluña can be a hard task, since Catalan is all around and at first it's not easy to see the difference between Catalan and Spanish.
Once upon a time... we were watching tv and he started watching the news on the national channel, TVE, and after some minutes he asked me: "He's talking a bit funny, isn't he?". Then I noticed: "Oh, yes, it's because he's talking in Catalan".
Anyway I am rather surrounded by Spanish all the time, and so he can try to read my books without fearing a linguistic maze. Actually I can speak Catalan, but almost never utter a word in that language. What can I do... it's hard to live in a world without the letter Ñ - now I secretly understand how he may feel in this world lacking ð, æ and þ...

Tortilla de patata.

Also Magnús wrote about my cooking skills which he seems to be enjoying rather much. I've just found out that there's a picture of me taken during his first days here in which I am preparing Spanish omelette:

Kisi

Good morning:

Yes...pictures. As Magnús said yesterday, my friends' cat is staying with us at home during Easter. I was asked to take care of him and I said yes without even bearing in mind that I'm allergic to cats, sneezing all the time when they are around. But Misifú is quite a lovely one, and so there he is, happier than ever, in our flat on a dodgy road but with a terrace in the backyard to which he accesses either through the door in the kitchen or jumping above a 160 cm wall til he reaches a window in my flatmate's room. El gato es feliz.

Here you can see him in the little balcony we have in our room:

Días españoles

Matargerð: matartilbúningur heimilisins er ekki á minni könnu. Það eru hins vegar eftirstöðvarnar – pottar, pönnur, skálir o.s.frv. Hér á Spáni er ekki notast við þvottabursta, heldur svampa sem gleypa í sig sápuvatnið og æla því út úr sér ef kreistir. Eftir sitja þó óhreinindin sem leirtauið er baðað upp úr við næsta uppvask. Þessi venja, auk vatnsins úr krönunum hérna suðurfrá, skilaði sér í svipuspaðaspýtingi fyrstu dagana. Klósettið hérna á heimilinu er þó varla brúkhæft. Svo nærri er það baðinu að jafnvel Laía (sem er 1:58 cm á hæð) þarf að sitja það skakkt ef fæturnir eiga að komast fyrir, þ.e.a.s. þvert. Ég reyni á hinn bóginn að sitja það ekki yfir höfuð og held í mér þangað til við flytjum, en þar er þrengslunum ekki fyrir að fara inn á baði þótt lofthæðin sé ekki nema 160 cm á stöku stað. Laía rétt sleppur undir en ég kjaga á eftir henni eins og hringjarinn í Notre Dame. En þetta átti að vera um matargerð. Hún samanstendur annars vegar af brauði [Magnús, handa sér og Laíu]; hins vegar af tortillas, steiktum kjúklingi, omelettum, steiktum pylsum, quiche (nokkurs konar baka), empanadillas (nokkurs konar hálfmánar, fylltir tómötum, túnfiski, lauk og eggjum), samlokum, fondue con fresas, chocolate con churros, crema de calabacín (mauksoðið grænmeti) og fleiru smálegu [Laía, handa sér og Magnúsi]. Er skemmst frá því að segja að ég hef ekki misst gramm frá því ég kom, og það þrátt fyrir að við hlaupum lafmóð umhverfis hafnarsvæðið hérna niðurfrá svo að segja hvern dag. Í gær gerðum við okkur svo glaðan dag og keyptum flösku af rauðvíni með kvöldmatnum (samloka með steiktum lauk og pylsum) á tvær (2) evrur.

Spænskir viðskiptahættir: til að leigja íbúð hér þarf að leggja 2700 evrur inn á óhreyfanlegan bankareikning á svo til engum vöxtum. Svo þarf að borga 900 evrur inn á annan reikning, en í hvorutveggja tilfelli er um einhvers konar tryggingu að ræða þar sem undirrituð eru svoddan slæpingjar að stunda enga vinnu að kalla. Fyrir þetta sér bankinn ástæðu til að rukka rúmlega 100 evrur. Látum það liggja á milli hluta. Til að komast úr vítishringjum barselónskrar leiguskrifstofu þarf hins vegar meira til. Þar heimtar það fyrirgreiðslur, tryggingar, vottorð, eignayfirlit ... – og pening. Heila glás af peningum, svo tvær armar manneskjur megi hírast undir 160 cm lofthæð upp á hanabjálka. Sú sem leigði penthouse-íbúðina á Carrer del Ample nr. 23 næst á undan okkur var sudamericana sem fékk að sögn “heimsóknir”, og þótti ekki fyrirmyndarleigjandi. Hefur okkur verið ráðlagt að skipta um lás þar sem sú suður-ameríska kann enn að hafa lykil undir höndum.

Spænsk tunga: Estoy aprendiendo castellano poco a poco con la ayuda de Laía. Pero aún no puedo hablar con los dependientes en las tiendas. Sin embargo, tampoco podría hacerlo en Islandia. Cada noche, traducimos algunos poemas de Federico García Lorca, y me he comprado una gramática castellana. Escuchando a la gente, no comprendo nada por el momento. Pero las cosas buenas llevan su tiempo.

Hola/Wola

Heimilislífid: Okkur Laíu hefur verid falid ad sjá um gulbrondottan (gulbrundóttan, eben) fresskott, Misifú ad nafni, á medan eigendurnir (kaerustuparid Juande og Guillem) hvíla sig á Barcelóna yfir páskana. Kotturinn matast sama og ekkert hjá okkur en thykir thó vaent um thegar ég gauka ad honum hardfiskbita - sá eini hér sudurfrá sem kann ad meta stífthurrkada ýsu. "It's a bit dry", sagdi Javi, samleigjandi Laíu hér á Carrer del Vidre, thegar ég baud honum ad smakka, og rauk í 5 lítra vatnsdunkinn sinn. Eitt af mínum fyrstu verkum eftir ad ég tók upp úr ferdatoskunni var ad bjóda Laíu ad smakka. Núna bidur hún mig vinsamlegast ad beina thessum hryllingi frá sér thegar ég opna pokann og lyktin gýs upp. -- Misifú kom á heimilid sama dag og Grímur bródir eignadist Arndísi Áslaugu sína.

Umhverfid: Carrer del Vidre er skuggalegt straeti í gamla baenum. Á gotuhorninu standa idulega tveir til thrír logregluthjónar vaktina og á kvoldin stíflum vid eyrun med eyrnatoppum til ad festa svefn í hávadanum sem berst af gotunni. Carrer del Ample, thangad sem vid Laía flytjum á allranaestu dogum, er thó ollu hljódlegri gata. Thadan er hofnin rétt handan vid hornid, og strondin í 10 mínútna hlaupafaeri. Mér hefur thó verid rádlagt frá thví ad stunda sjóbod. Innfaeddir segja ad hér sé Midjardarhafid baedi kalt og skítugt. Midad vid hvad veit ég ekki, thví ekki er thad kalt midad vid Atlantshafid útifyrir Gróttu, og ekki skítugt midad vid vatnid í almenningsgardinum í Potsdam sem ég mé í (og synti, innanum menn og dýr - hvorutveggja án klaeda). Thegar hitastigid skrídur upp í 20 grádur verd ég thví fyrstur manna til ad stinga mér til sunds.

(meira sídar...)

Bienvenidos...

[ok, second try!]

¡Hola!

This is our new and hopefully definitive blog where we will be able to upload pictures and videos we two will be taking if we are not too lazy. There are no new pictures yet by the moment, so two portraits of ours in which our faces aren't really showing must do to start with. Soon we'll try to upload some videos we've made here about Easter traditions in Spain and Sunday secrets.

Next week will be probably hectic due to another removal which I'll add to my list of things that I dislike, still I hope these days among boxes will bring their fun.

Love from Laía (and busy-Magnús behind me).