A Day Like Any Other

Today I won't be getting a 'surprise' bunch of flowers and a box of sweets. We haven't booked a fancy restaurant for an evening meal. Dinner will be a homemade meal of whatever cravings I have at the moment. And like every other night, we would be sat in front of a warm fireplace watching an hour-long BBC documentary on I-player before turning in for the night. 

I hold no grudge against Valentines Day although never once in my 28 years has it been different from any other day. And no, marriage has certainly not made me less of a hopeless romantic, it has in fact made me more aware of simple joys and little acts of love everyday. 

This morning, I noticed how the orchids in our front room have started to grow more buds. When we bought it in early autumn from a bargain shop for  £1.99, we estimate it would last at least before winter. But six months on it is still in full bloom, flowers seem to blossom well in a loving home. 

This is true with all the flowers in our garden where despite the unpredictable weather, the winter pansies are thriving, the spring bulbs are coming out and the leaves of the roses are starting to come back to life. They are the flowers that I get everyday, regardless of the season, not ordered from a florist but lovingly tended by my husband's own hands. 

And because today, we are allowed to be cheesy, this is what he has to say about this subject: 

"Love is not a sudden outpouring of rain but the gentle drizzle that keeps the garden in bloom all throughout the year."

Flowers, poetry and love ~ no, they don't need a special day to be celebrated. 

Three Years Today

Summer of 2009 was a rather eventful season. I have just turned 25 going spinster (and the butt of the family joke 'Never been kissed, never been touched'). I have finally crossed the other side of the border and stepped on Spanish soil only after a year of living in Gibraltar. I have bought myself a Nikon D60 before boarding the ferry to Tangiers and was rather proud of my first SLR outputs. To top it off, our British friend said my photos 'captured the atmosphere' of the place.

Just days after we have crossed the Straight of Gibraltar, we embarked on another weekend get-away with friends in a campsite in Marbella. Encouraged by his interest in my photography, we started a conversation and over the course of the weekend, discovered a similar outlook in life and the same passion for travel and adventure.   

I have written about the man of my dreams long before I met him. I have waited and prayed for him over the years. So when he finally found me, I already knew but I had to keep my fingers crossed that God would also know I was ready.

That weekend was followed with four days of subtle flirting over our Facebook statuses, a text message with an 'x' and an eventual confession through an electronic message. There was nothing British 'Do you fancy going out for a drink' about it nor my response a hard-earned Filipino 'Yes' after long periods of courtship. It was as unconventional as only two non-conformists can get away with. 

So on this very night 36 months ago, to top up an already eventful summer, I had my very first kiss in the middle of a dance floor, with half of Gibraltar dancing to the classics of Abba. It was long and sweet, and everything I have dreamt it would be like. 

What followed is an exciting roller coaster ride involving weekend trips in Costa del Sol and Portugal; European city breaks; getting married; moving to Britain; becoming a football (supporter's) wife; learning to be domesticated; crossing the Bosphorus and meeting our Turkish family; driving around the English countryside; visiting my family back home; losing our passports in Central Europe; driving around Scotland and reaching Wale's highest point. This kind of lifestyle has once or twice left us broke and unemployed yet inspired and worldly-wise. Perhaps success has evaded us but happiness has not, and for that we are blessed.     

Three years today, life as we knew it, took on a different light. But for two people who have spent every single day together since then (apart from the few weeks before and after our wedding day), it has always felt longer than that.  

Dinner by the Docks

Sitting by the dock. Eating fish and chips. Watching the sunset. Bliss!

In its heyday, the Kyle of Lochalsh had been abuzz with tourists staying overnight for the next day trip to the spectacular Isle of Skye. After the controversial bridge linking the island to the rest of Scotland, the visitors skipped the town and what is left felt like a bleak little town gloating on its former glory. 

This impression might seem rather harsh and is largely owing to the two uneventful nights we have spent in the Kyle Hotel, a run-down building that has definitely seen better days. From the dull white exterior which looks like it hasn't had the service of a decent architect, the inside wasn't much to look at either. The long, dark and tight hallways would remind you of Asian horror flicks. The thin strips of walls would wake you up in the middle of the night to the voices of drunken Americans stumbling their way to their rooms next door. The rooms themselves were small and dingy, the sort of place where you couldn't wait to get out of. But for all your woes, they charged more than the lovely bed and breakfasts in Edinburgh. 

We have never met any locals, not on the street and not even on the hotel where we were served by nervous looking young women from other parts of Europe wearing all black and would jump at the orders being barked from the other side of the kitchen doors. But these people smiled and offered a good service at least, making it easier to gobble the greasiest English breakfast we've ever tasted. 

No, I wouldn't say the Kyle of Lochalsh is a romantic place. But one evening in May, after a long day of travelling half-way through Scotland, we had dinner by the docks. Eating our humble fish and chips from a take away (owned by an Aussie), we watched the sun as it was about to set at half-past ten in the evening while the pigeons hovered around us, waiting for their leftovers. 

I live for special moments like this. 

The Andalusian Dream

The first time John invited me over for dinner, he took out a road map of Andalusia, that most beautiful piece of land area that is the South of Spain. He pointed out the places he wanted to go to -  Jaen...Granada...Cordoba...Seville...they were just names to me then. But it showed me a hunger for travel and adventure, a hunger I also feel. I told him that he should take me with him. 

When people ask me how I met my husband, I would reply that we have met where our dreams crossed paths. His was to escape the country of his birth to a place where there are no chilly winters but days filled with glorious sunshine. Mine was to explore a world bigger than the pages of my books where one can live in the mountains and can still embrace a civilised way of life. Our choice of professions (as a nurse and an accountant) brought us to Gibraltar and allowed us to have a taste of our dreams. 

On our first weekend get-away we went on a crazy drive up to the mountain top city of Ronda. We've been to more romantic places since then but that one had been definitely special. We strolled under the orange trees planted along the stone paths. We marvelled at the magnificent beauty of nature that awaited us from the viewpoint. We rested under the delightful warmth of the afternoon sun while the gentle breeze kissed our cheeks. 

In Spain, you forget the time but you always remember the littlest of details of those special moments. 

Leaving Gibraltar meant John would have to defer his Andalusian dreams for three years at least. It wasn't an easy decision to make and in times of difficulties it would often haunt us. We have left behind well-paying jobs, a supportive church family and above all else, the warm weather.

But one dream had to be put off for another: of a border-less world which no longer requires visa applications and immigration queues. My dreams over his, his sweetest sacrifice.

I would like to think that it hasn't been futile. During the last two years, we have definitely grown much wiser and more confident. We now have a much better idea of what we want out of life, where we want to be and how we will get there.

Our Andalusian dream is as alive today as it has always been. Before we will know it, our barefoot toes will once again be playing with the soft sands on the shores of Costa del Sol where we once watched the golden sun set over the horizon.

We Didn't Come Here Looking for Love

From the Rascal Flatts Lyrics: 

"She didn't come there looking for love, and the cool thing was, neither did I"

This is an on-going Scrapbooking Project that would chronicle our life in Gibraltar and its still in its early stages. Hopefully it will get finished before we can finally go back to settle down in the warmer climates of Southern Spain. 

A Garden That Blooms Every Day

I don’t get an occasional bunch of flowers to surprise me, I get to have a garden that blossoms everyday. Love is not about grand romantic gestures but little things that keep the spark alive.