Tuesday 25 August 2015

Top Restaurant In Figures, Spain

For my parents' wedding anniversary, we decided to spend two nights in Figures, Spain, so that we could celebrate the date at our favourite restaurant, L'ou Dor. (LINK). It was a lovely occasion, and it's wonderful feeling when the waitresses remember us and the manageress comes and says a little "buenas tardes".
However, we've been to the restaurant more than a dozen times, and we decided that it was time we tried something new. Father searched up for other restaurants in Figures, and I was shocked to discover that L'ou D'or was ranked the 59th on Travelodge - 58 restaurants BETTER than L'ou D'or?! Impossible. Therefore, just to try it out, the next day we luncheoned at the top restaurant in Figures.
The outside appearance was nothing to rave about. In all honesty, it looked a bit like a coffee shop rather than a top restaurant. Whereas L'ou D;'or was in the town's backstreets, we had to travel slightly out of town to get to 9 Suprem. Thankfully, its location had its advantages as there was free parking everywhere.
I was also advised that one books a table in advance, and in hindsight I strongly recommend this, but us being us, we didn't and just turned up #yolo. But seriously, the first time we went there (yup, there was another occasion too!), we arrived just before they started serving for lunch, which was probably the only way we could have gotten a table since a few minutes later, the restaurant was packed. It was a pleasant surprise to note that 9 Suprem's customers were mostly locals. It just emphasises the fact that they weren't a typical "tourist" restaurant that charge extortionate prices for food which is obviously bought from the Carrefour down the road.
Despite the menu being in Catalan, (thus making it harder for me to translate since I only speak Spanish), our very kind water translated it for us. The next day, when we returned for a second time, he did this without hesitation, which was very nice of him.

I can't remember the exact names of each of the dishes, notably because they were in Catalan, but I had a salad with melted Camembert, followed by grilled chicken kebabs and then....the best tiramisu you'll ever taste. No joke, I had the exact same the next day and I do not regret it in the slightest. It was light, creamy and home-made. It was heaven in a jar, honestly.

I think the best part about the meal was that it was only *drum roll*, 10 euros each. 10 euros?! I know, I know. This included the amuse-bouche of olives and bread, as well as water and the house wine (a choice between red and rosé). God only knows how they're making a profit. It's hard to believe that the top restaurant in Figures is so cheap! If you ever have the chance to visit, please do, and order the tiramisu. And bring me back some too. Mhmm...

Tuesday 18 August 2015

Ramblings #2

The smell of freshly ground coffee wafts through the morning air as I sit on the veranda looking listening to Frank Ocean. Sweet, sweet life - is it not? Agreed, at the beginning of summer holidays I'm somewhat of a pessimist as I see the blank calender endlessly stretch out, but a blink later and I find myself two weeks' away from re-starting sixth form. I'm going to be in upper-sixth, which despite being one of the 'top dogs' of school, also means that it'll be my last year at the establishment. Time flies like an arrow (...and fruit flies like a banana).

The Uni Prospectuses currently cover the living room floor and Mother keeps complaining how messy it looks. They're flooding in at the moment, and it amuses me to wonder what the postman must think they are as he stuffs four more packages into the tiny slit of our letterbox. Maybe this is what Harry Potter felt like in the Philosopher's Stone when he got hundreds of letters from Hogwarts... or not. Anyway, the majority of the summer has been spent highlighting and comparing each of the courses. The marketing departments have all done such a great job in promoting their unis that I've ended up very confused and wanting to apply to all of them. It's such a joke that 17/18 year olds have to choose a career path at this age. I can't decide what type of cereal to have in the mornings, let alone what I'm going to spend the majority of my adult life doing. Some courses, such as the Liberal Arts and Sciences course at Birmingham, enables students to basically 'pick n mix' their own degree courses. Whether one would want to do a bit of Maths alongside History of Art - whatever, you could do it. I thought that I had finally chosen my course until I saw the Entry Requirements of A*AA *cue for audience laughter*.

I mean, one doesn't /have/ to go to University. It's just the general route everyone goes down because it's what expected. As Felix Dennis says, 'keep to the track, to the beaten track'. But, but what about 'YOLO'? Okay, hear me out and don't think I'm going to go all Drake on y'all. Think of the concept of 'YOLO': You Only Live Once. Personally, I think that the term may be tarnished from young teens' misuse of the phrase. It doesn't justify doing immoral or illegal things, it just means that that you should do things that make you happy and not live in regret for not doing them (then again, if doing immoral and illegal things make you happy.....well, that's for another post). Let me give you an example. The majority of people have 'go skydiving' on their buckletlist. Why? Just like I wrote about here, it is one of those so-called 'sports' which give you a rush of adrenaline. However, when you ask Joe Bloggs in the street if he's ever fulfilled his dream, he'd probably say no. Why? Because he doesn't YOLO. He goes to his 9 to 5 job that'll keep his bills paid, but when he has free time, he sits at home watching Youtube videos of other people skydiving. Go out there, Joe Bloggs; save up and go fulfil your dream of throwing yourself out a moving plane 12,500 feet off the ground.

My friend Harrison* and I used to muse with the idea of truly 'YOLOING' our lives. He had this crazy idea, this crazy, crazy idea, of not going to Uni and just moving out to America, living on a farm, and livin' off of the fatta the lan'.. Living like a hermit, I suppose; being split off from the world and just being content in one's own little world. I mean, why go off to University just to write down on your CV that you have a degree in X? Isn't ignorance bliss? Obviously, when Harrison presented me with this idea I turned into a Geraldine's character from the Beautiful and Damned and replied "Cra-azy". He must have undoubtedly felt like an intellectual among a spoilt and callow youth. After all, he once wrote me a 1,500 word essay (or seemingly so) about a mule. Yeah, you read it right (luv u rly bby). In all seriousness, it was very interesting, and he made the analogy of how that mule didn't know about climate change nor about 9/11, nor any world problems for that matter. It would just go about its day, hell, its /life/, not knowing all those draining issues - but it would still be happy. Maybe we should all be like mules.

Anyway, my coffee appears to have brewed. After I pour it out, I'll no doubt go back to meticulously reviewing university prospectuses.

Thursday 13 August 2015

Mediterranean Markets


Call me cynical, but to me, most Mediterranean markets are the same. There's the same old pointless junk sold in each of the stalls, with overly-eager sellers (or, seemingly laid-back sellers who glare at you from afar) who are just gagging for your money. Plus, they can literally smell tourists from a mile off and bunk up their prices when they see yo' skinny white ass approaching. Have you not heard of bargaining, darling? I must admit that I used to be a bit fearful of doing so, perhaps after my first experience when I was 10 and my Father pushed me to ask for a lower price for some tacky hair band that most 10 year olds want, and the woman merely pierced her lips together and said "Non, petite. Allez, va t'en". This was condescending, and psychologically damaging as I didn't try to push market prices down for about 4 years until my ego recovered.

Nowadays, I rarely accept the suggested price on items I find at markets. After all, the price on an item is called an 'Offer to Treat', to give it its legal name. This means that the price that they place on the item isn't necessarily the one you settle upon. It is just an 'offer', as the name suggests. Occasionally, and this just goes to show how low my life has become, I enjoy bargaining with market sellers on items I don't necessarily want to buy; I like bargaining just to see how much percentage I can get off. Then again, this can go awfully wrong. The other day I felt like Johnny English trying to escape the crazy cleaner lady because I had to run away, literally run away from this guy who didn't get the hint that I didn't want to buy his tacky faux P'tit Marcel bag. I used the common excuse of "Oh, I'll be right back, I just have to get my money" but the idiot wasn't street wise enough to get the hint and followed five paces behind me until I escaped to some public bathrooms and stayed in there until I 100% knew he was no longer waiting for me outside. Tragic, I know.

Every time I go to markets, it's like I can already tell what is going to be there. There'll be the fruit section, the clothes section, and the trinkets section. I mean, c'mon, here's a check-list of people in markets that you can use to play 'I Spy' with.
 - a stall with tons of bracelets attached to cardboard poles
 - a fruit stall with melon samples which is covered with flies, but nobody seems to know the definition of hygiene as they happily stuff their face with the bacterial-ridden fruit
 - a mysterious white haired woman selling spiritual books and crystals
 - a guy with amazing dreadlocks, tattoos and piercings selling intense and Buddha statues (he often seems really, um, /high/ on life)
 - a token English couple selling some weird English stuff eg. scones, which nobody really wants bar other English people, who are often friends of the couple and who only buy their products out of pity
 - a stall with huge woven baskets in pretty colours, pretty designs and pretty big sizes
 - a stall with all the varieties of 'saucisson' there is, which includes tasters and is probably one of the most popular tables in the market until a little kid screams because there is the option to buy some little horsy meat too... which, by the way, is delicious
 - an organic honey store with tasters of bread and spoons to spread the honey on... again, very unhygienic - but who cares apart from the tourists?
 - a mobile pizza van which nobody really goes to
 - a stall selling bread that looks like rock hard plastic which would 'kneed' a strong set of teeth to eat, let alone a good deal of stomach acid to digest
 - a dench old guy who attends a surprisingly huge book store who insists on reading you Voltaire in a deep, calming voice... and thus convincing you to buy an anthology of French poems (true story)
 - second hand clothes 'stores' which looks like a bomb exploded in a teenage girl's wardrobe and then taken to the market and set out on a tressel
 - overly eager Moroccan men ready to sell you imitation leather bags and belts (reference to the story above)
 - and finally, the most random store which sells stuff ranging from mattresses, to kitchen utensils, to loom bands to zips...

If you've ever been to a Mediterranean market, did you recognise any of the people I mentioned above? If not, do comment others that you've seen so that I can add them to the list. This post has quite a negative view of markets, but there is a part of me, deep deep down, which actually likes them. I guess I like their ambiance, which one can't really get in England. I like the chaotic cries coming from the loud fruit sellers, the rush of people as they go from store to store, but what I love most of all, is spending my money buying all the pointless junk I find there.

Wednesday 12 August 2015

Andorra La Vella





Personally, I find that the views in Andorra are breathtaking. When driving to the capital, you get to go through many tunnels within the mountain and come up in a valley with the mountains towering either side of you. I've always dreamt of skiing there, however the closest place I've been skiing was Les Angles, which is more towards the French boarder.





I did intend to take some photos of the views, but as we left early in the morning to drive to Andorra, I fell asleep in the car journey. Oops, sorry about that.
As you can tell, we chose a beautiful day to travel. If I recall correctly, the temperature rose to about 33 degrees Celsius, which enabled us to walk around town without it being unbearably hot. We found one of Dali's sculptures in the town centre (pictures below) which was a pleasant surprise as he's my favourite artist. I wrote about a restaurant he used to visit here, if you are as big as fanatic about him as I am. I've often visited his museum, as well as his house and Gala's palace, if you'd like me to recollect and assort a post for you about there, please leave a comment below.




For lunch, we went to a Michelin star restaurant which received dazzling reviews on TripAdvisor. Its name was Bodega Poblet and was quite hard to locate as its outward appearance is very closed off. The restaurant gives off a very rustic feel, with home-like decor and about a dozen tables, which only added to its allure.





The service is what I loved most about Bodega Poblet Our waitress, as we discovered, originated from Lisbon, Portugal, and had a very charismatic persona. I informed her that I came to practise my Spanish, and she kindly helped me translate the Spanish Menu into English for my parents, even though she could have easily done so herself as her English was flawless. (On a side note, English spoken with a Portuguese accent is so charming). At the end of our meal, she made a special point of thanking us for choosing the restaurant and wished us a good and happy life. The whole experience - from the wonderfully prepared food to our waitress' loveliness - makes me want to recommend this restaurant to anyone who plans to go to Andorra la Vella any time soon!

Sunday 9 August 2015

Ramblings #1

It is typically when scrolling through a teenage girl's social media feed that you're likely to find an inspirational picture with the caption 'GOALS' attached to it. The photograph may be of a model she desires to look like, a couple in a relationship she might find cute, or even an appetizing looking meal. It all seems very nice, but what does it all mean?

There is no real evidence of where this trend started. I presume it is yet another American influence which has swept over the rest of the world via the World Wide Web. If you want to see what is often perceived as 'goals', searching up Kylie Jenner on sites such as Tumblr is a great way of reminding yourself how pathetically mundane and unlavish your life really is. I doubt that you'll be able to resist being envious of their possessions where they get paid for..living, basically. But the Kardashian's lifestyle is only one aspect which these girls call 'goals'. The seemingly 'everyday girl' is flawless, healthy and beautiful; her boyfriend is model material, gentlemanly, and respectful; their apartment is fresh, clean, perfect. Girls have become accustomed to sharing these kinds of pictures on social media, and it is hard not to feel envious. 'Goals AF!!' wrote one girl under a picture of Cara Delevigne, 'I want her body, she is literal goals' commented another. The list of, I must admit, superficial comments go on and on. 


At one stage, I had even jumped on the bandwagon. Admittedly, I had to urban-dictionary what it all meant, but after that was done I was posting pictures of my ideal 'perfect' body, my 'perfect' apartment, my 'perfect' life. But then something clicked in my brain. The part of your brain that has been taught to question everything. That little, God-sent voice called my conscience pipped up one day, and asked 'What are you going to do about it?'. This had never occurred to me, nor do I believe that it has occurred to many of the other girls who are part of this 'trend'. What am I going to do about it? I've seen the way I want my life to be like, realise that my current life is not like that, so what am I going to do about it?


There are copious amounts of books, articles and posts written about 'Getting the life you want'. I've read them and reread them, and it all boils down to one fundamental concept: Focus on your goals, and your goals will be achieved. This doesn't mean staring at that photo of the girl with the perfect body and moping about how you don't look like her, it means getting off your back side and hitting the gym. If you want to get into Oxford, study hard. If you want that big paying job, work hard. If you want to own that Lexus, save hard. Nobody is preventing you from doing what you want to do, bar yourself. You can be successful and achieve your goals if you put your heart and soul into it. So girls, there is no point whatsoever posting a photo on social media showing us your 'goals' if you don't go out and chase them. If you want it, go get it. 

Monday 3 August 2015

The Military Diet: My Experience


I've never been on a diet before. There didn't seem much point, if I'm honest. Up until now, I believed the propaganda fed to me by my school, my parents, reviews in magazines: "Be healthy but don't be stupid" was the bottom line. You should eat everything in moderation, stick as close as possible to your five-a-day and not be a couch potato. There seemed to be no use in forcing yourself, making yourself even unhappy, by going on a diet as they never worked. That's what they said, anyway.


I'm not particularly large, nor particularly slim. I'm 17 and have a petite build, but I can't run up three flights of stairs without puffing and blowing. I hope you're getting an idea of what I'm physically like by this... Anyway, it's summer and I have time on my hands. After reading some #justgirlythings on tumblr and getting motivated to get fit, I bought myself some exercise gear which I found on Pinterest and decided that I was to go on daily walks in order to build up stamina and tone up. However, I asked myself, why not go all out? As mentioned previously, I had the time to search up and plan a diet. The search for a short, easy diet which worked wasn't hard to find and Google quickly brought me to The Military Diet.

For those who have not heard of it, The Military Diet is a three day diet which provides the dieter with precise meals which they should eat at breakfast, lunch and dinner. It's easy, and some websites even provide you with a shopping list to know exactly what to buy. The food isn't even that bad either! Mainly consisting of stuff I like such as tea, tuna and toast, I thought I'd give dieting a go...

At the start of the three day-marathon, I weighed around 48kg, which I've heard is average for a 5"3 teenage girl. I was motivated, and hardly felt like I was on a diet as I was eating stuff I enjoyed. Additionally, in the heat of summer one doesn't feel as hungry as one would say, in winter, therefore I think it was an easy transition from what I usually ate to dieting. All I had to do was cut out the fizzy drinks, the snacks in between meals, throw away the stash of food I have hidden under my bed for midnight treats...

It thus came as a shock to me that at the end of the second day, I had put on weight. I asked my Mother if that was the same for her, as she had kindly said she'd go on the diet with me for morale support, and she had had the same experience too. Admittedly I cursed the diet, the vloggers, and all those filthy filthy lies I had read and so gulliably took as gospel, but nevertheless I carried it onto the third day.

And it's finally over! By the third day I had really started complaining about my hunger - God forbid I ever went on a diet lasting longer than three days, I wouldn't be able to cope - so it was a relief when I had my last bite of the apple on the third night, followed by the vanilla ice cream*.

Anyway, I undressed and reluctantly stood on the scales this morning, and joy of joys, I've lost 6lbs. Not the promised 10lbs, but I'm still happy with the result. Now that I'm not cursing the diet and have returned to my senses (or something similar), I'd recommend this diet to anyone who wants to lose a quick few pounds. Also, I feel this is kind of a 'try before you buy' kind of diet which allows you to predict how you'd cope if you go for the full blown thing. Diets on average last a few months! Personally, I'm glad I've done it as it's another thing I could blog to you lovelies about, but on the other hand, I'll probably put on the weight during my oh-so-missed midnight snacks. If dieting is your thing though, just

*I never really understood why the vanilla ice cream and the peanut butter were part of this crazy diet, they seemed somewhat out of place. The internet explained that it was to counteract the other ingredients and cancel each other out, but Mumma said it was to appeal to the American Market. 

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