The Last King of Portugal

Manuel II 1889-1932

The history of the demise of  Portugese royalty is every bit as shameful as that of Russia in that it was in the 1900s, when mankind had advanced so far  in so many ways … to kill off the Royal family in these brutal and churlish ways when society had advanced a long way in regard to slavery, divorce rights, votes for women, medicine, politics, engineering, travel …..  It beggars belief.

For this blog in full and more please see http://www.turquoisemoon.co.uk/blog/the-last-king-of-portugal/

el Camino

My mother did the camino to Santiago de Compostella when she was in her late seventies and early eighties.  She always referred to it as The Camino and said that those days were among the best in her life. The word camino is Spanish and means the road or the path and refers to the pilgrims’ way to worship at Santiago de Compostella.

For this blog in full and more please see http://www.turquoisemoon.co.uk/blog/el-camino/

Portugal

I first came to Portugal a zillion years ago when I was in my twenties.  I was with an English chap by the name of Martin, who also lived in Marbella, and who was in the throes of selling his flat in Faro.  With us we had two dogs – his was named Fitsherbert I recall, like mine a big old lollopy mutt rescued from some dire and cruel situation.

For this blog in full and more please see http://www.turquoisemoon.co.uk/blog/portugal/

Spain: el Cid

I remember very well that wonderful film with Charlton Heston and Sophia Loren!  What a heart-wrenching story and what a great film it seemed at that time – I’d love to see it again, but would probably nowadays find it “tame” and a bit silly.  But it was excellent in its day.

For this blog in full and more, please see http://www.turquoisemoon.co.uk/blog/spain-el-cid/

Spain

We crossed the border near St Jean de Luz.  The caravan ran along behind us, as good as gold.

Our trusty Nissan Patrol dealt with the hills, as indeed it should, like a dream and made us remember our poor Chrysler Grand Voyager, who faithfully towed our 1.5 tons caravan all over southern Europe for five months.  This caravan is lighter and the car heavier.  That old Chrysler would weep if he knew.

For this blog in full and more please see http://www.turquoisemoon.co.uk/blog/spain-2/

Spain: Isabella of Castille

Isaballa of Castille (1451-1504) means nothing to the average Brit till they realize she was the mother of Katharine of Aragon, the first wife of our Henry VIII.  I read about Isabella in my youth – it may have been an historical novel.  She struck me at that time, and has remained so in my mind, as a formidable woman.  She has gone down in history as a great beauty, but looking at her portrait, she is nothing of the sort.  I like to think of her as a beauty, and anyway European art of this era hadn't long crawled out of the dark ages and the associated loss of technique, so the portrait is undoubtedly unreliable.

To see this blog in full and more please see http://www.turquoisemoon.co.uk/blog/spain-isabella-of-castille/

Spain

They say that wherever you spent your “formative years” is the place that remains in your heart.  Surely that depends on one’s definition of “formative years”?   I think it is not just the childhood years, but adult years where we learn a lot, do a lot, feel a lot …. I lived in Spain for over three years when I was in my twenties, ie after I had supposedly “grown up”, yet it has remained in my heart almost as strongly as Africa … where I spent my childhood.

For this blog in full and more please see http://www.turquoisemoon.co.uk/blog/spain/