White kid meets tropical climate.

So it’s been about two weeks since I arrived in Motril, the land’s end of Spain. Africa is a stone’s throw away when you look to the horizon at Playa Granada and I’ve seen the heat move. It’s hot.

It’s very hot.

The weather here is bloody boiling. Durrr Fiona you’re practically opposite Africa, what were you expecting? I hear you all say. It’s like hot British July weather, (without the rain and storms and the hose-pipe ban).

I forgot the sun cream on the first day at Playa Granada where I independently verified myself as the white British breed sunbathing with my face under a towel, very much the ethnic minority.

This, of course, was before moving to the shade.

Despite the heat, I wouldn’t say I’ve had the warmest of welcomes here – it really has been mixed. People have stared at me in the street, non stop. I assume this is because I am particularly tall and white (I haven’t seen another pair of blue eyes round here yet) and my hair is forever getting blonder under the sun. I suppose I must stick out like a sore thumb compared to the tanned, small, brunette Spanish señoritas, a description which perfectly fits my amazing new Spanish mother, Miriam, with whom I am sharing my flat. Wait til I actually remember to lather on the factor 50 next time, they’ll think I’m albino.

There have been good bits, though. Alcohol is cheaper than a soft drink. Buy any drink out and you get a massive portion of tapas on the side. I’ve been told that the tapas in Granada is the best and most generously dished out in all of Spain. My tapas experience so far has been a true testimony to this. Last week I found myself cooking my own chicken on a hot stone with bread, even though I only asked for a tinto verano.

I shall delve into the topic of school briefly, as this is the main reason why I’m here…but more on this next time.

I felt like a bit of a celebrity in my first week. In the staff room, the analogy between my name and Princess Fiona from Shrek was inevitably established, so I decided to include this in my presentation that I did about 100 times to each class of kids (including a picture of the princess, not the ogre, in case you’re wondering). The kids are a combination of sweet, loud and energetic. They all seem to constantly need the toilet too.

I’m just thankfuI I don’t have to teach the music classes. Think recorder, and you’ll understand why.


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