MY LIFE IN IBIZA

Eight years ago I had nothing. Now, I am the proud owner of a little antique and vintage shop in San Carlos, Ibiza, called Lottie Bogotti...the ecological answer to extravagance. Read my blog entries to find out how working your socks off can make your dreams come true.


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Monday, March 26, 2007

Lottie's Party Tricks




Ok, I confess. I stuck my tongue out once after eating dinner and said 'finished'. I only did it once! It is not something I normally do, especially when in restaurants. Lottie is obviously a quick learner when it comes to picking up things she shouldn't. Now, she is so well trained, she sticks her tongue out on request. I also confess, I have taken advantage of the situation and do get her to do it more often than is healthy. I have also attempted to train her to pat her head whilst sticking her tongue out but, so far, no joy.


Once she has mastered sticking her tongue out, patting her head and hopping on one foot, I will video it for you to see.

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LOTTIE BOGOTTI, the eco-friendly shop in Ibiza.

Thanks Cheryl!

Thanks for the Easter egg Cheryl! Sorry I missed you. Normally I am in the shop from about 11am until 7pm but I started later on Friday. Hopefully I'll see you in June.

p.s. the egg was split three ways ;)

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Sunday, March 25, 2007

Happy Days at the Markets of Ibiza

Here's a sneak preview of my latest video made specially for http://www.digitalibiza.com/ who will soon be making a website for the shop. All the photos were taken by me in the last month.

Don't forget to rate it!

Click 'link'
Link

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Friday, March 23, 2007

The Great Wall of Ibiza




Remember the wall I built with my own two builder's hands? This is it getting a jolly good mosaicing. The lighting gets darker in the photos because it took from morning 'til night. The grouting took all the next day!
The wall is actually a work station where I will sit making jewellery and repairing antiques. I built it rather tall which maybe an indication of my fear of being a shop keeper. Peter jokes that I will need a periscope to communicate with customers. I can just peep over the top ;)
We've finished tiling the stairs which is a huge relief as it's not easy when you can only stand on one out of every four steps. Today I'm going to be doing some mosaicing in the bathroom and start getting the place cleaned up and ready for the floor grout.

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Saturday, March 10, 2007

SPOTTED!!!

I had my first 'Are you Hannah?' the other day when Andreas, a reader of this blog and a Spotlight member, popped by the shop to say hello. Actually, one of Peter's friends was the first to say he'd been reading my blog but Andreas was the first stranger to come into the shop who knew my name.

It was really bizarre to meet one of my readers, but equally nice. It was also quite exiting as it really hit home the thought that people are out there willing me on.

It's as though you, my readers, are reading a novel but the ending hasn't been written yet other than in my mind. I promise the novel will have a fantastic ending!

Did I say 'promise'? Oh my god ;)

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Splish Splash

As requested by Tincii in the Banter-Box, here is a re-run of Splish Splash...

Click the title.

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Link

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Friday, March 09, 2007

THE ALIENS HAVE LANDED!

A few days ago, after a very windy night, an illuminous green dust covered everything in the area. This green dust didn't worry me or grab my attention too much which is an indicator of the amount of things rattling around in my mind.

'Did you see that six legged giant frog walk past Hannah?'

'What?'

The dust did worry my father though as his vintage car had lost its sparkle somewhat.

'What's this? Is this normal? Does it happen a lot? Is this wind normal? Is it often windy?' He asked with looks of woe and disbelief.

I told him I had assumed it was just sand blown about and that the wind was not normal. My mother had put six g-strings (I know...at her age the dirty trollop!) out to dry on the kitchen windowsill and found them in the morning in a cactus plant! Now that someone had mentioned the dust, I had a good look at it and decided that green sand was a bit strange and made a mental note to ask Peter when I saw him in the shop. Peter told me it was pine pollen which had been wafted off the trees by the strong winds.

I told my parents what it was and heard a sigh of relief....pollen....once a year...phew!

The next day, at my parents' house, my mother told me she had spent hours vacuuming up the pollen with her one good arm, only to discover on the net it had medicinal qualities, according to the Chinese.

Pine Pollen Research and Development Centre writes...

Pine pollen of Pinus masoniana, namely masson pine, has been traditionally used as food and medicine since ancient time in China. PPRDC is the first one to carry out detailed and systemic studies on the nutrients, toxicology, pharmacodynamics and processing techniques of masson pine pollen. Results of studies in collaboration with authorized institutions such as Shanghai Institute for Medicine Examination and the Chinese Academy of Medical Science, has proven that masson pine pollen is high value of nutrition.

Particularly it is significantly effective in:


  • improving the regeneration ability of liver

  • delaying the organism feebleness through increasing SOD level in heart, liver and brain

  • improving blood circulation through reducing cholesterol and blood-fat

My mother was none too pleased at having sucked up a rather valuable mass of super-dust when she could have licked it up and improved her health at the same time. Never mind Mummy...there's always next year. You can come and lick my car clean next March if you are a good girl. It will be ready for a wash by then.

I think my parents are in the 'getting to know you stage' in which nothing is familiar and everything needs to be questioned. I can remember being like that.

'Is this weather normal?'

'Is it usually this cold/warm?'

'Is it usually this damp?'

'Are baked beans always this expensive?'

'Why does everyone indicate right when they are over-taking to the left?'

'Do people normally drive this fast?'

'Are there usually so many Guardia Civil guards checking cars?'

'Are shop assistants normally that unfriendly?'

'Is this normal for a Saturday night?'

'Are men always this forward?'

The list goes on...

I think it took me a good two and a half years to stop questioning things and finally settle into my new environment, but I remember how difficult it was when everything seemed so alien.

Talking of aliens, I and my family are the real aliens in Ibiza. We will always be English in the eyes of the Ibicencos who are, in the main, rather nationalistic and patriotic. This is not a bad thing at all and I respect their pride.

My mother and father, however, experienced more than a dash of patriotism during a visit to the hospital the other day. My mother didn't know when her arm needed to be looked at and decided to find out. She had never been given a report on leaving the hospital the day after her operation but the doctor on duty informed her, and all the waiting patients, that she was a liar. The doctor then made my parents wait for three and a half hours, despite the task of answering my mother's question taking only five minutes in the end. The doctor continued to be rude to my mother who, understandably cannot speak much Spanish yet. The doctor, who spoke excellent English, was clearly antagonised at my mother's inability to speak 'my country's language'.

I have experienced racism a few times and still feel like an outsider to a degree. This is also something I have come to accept and overlook. I am an English woman living in a very traditional Ibicencan area who cannot yet speak fluent Spanish. How can I possibly expect the locals to treat me without a hint of suspicion, intrigue or special attention? I came along and bought a shop bang smack in the middle of this historic village and they are probably thinking 'Who is she? How can she afford to buy a shop? What will she be selling? Who is the Daddy of that little baby she carries around? Does she not go to church?'

Usually, when I go into the local shop or bar, the chatter stops and people turn to look. I get some smiles, some 'hola's and some blank expressions. The smiles and greetings come from those who know me and the blank expressions come from those who don't. This is normal of course but it is exaggerated when you are an immigrant and new to the area. I don't mind it because I understand it. I will continue to be polite to the people of San Carlos, open my shop, improve my Spanish and wait for people to eventually see me as just another face, albeit an English one.

I have learnt, since living in Ibiza, that it is perfectly normal to be different around different people and that it is the duty of the different to earn the trust and acceptance of their hosts and not the other way around. The doctor was clearly a nasty woman who upset my mother and father. I hope my parents will not let that unpleasant experience change their view of emigration and immigration, and continue to understand it from the hosts' perspective.

Maybe the doctor was just bitter at not having a bottom for g-strings.

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Sunday, March 04, 2007

STRESS POINTS

Stress has been the issue of late given my looming, albeit flexible, deadline. I've come to the conclusion I have been conned by my engineer who never assessed the builder's work, nor even provided them with a plan. If I spend too long looking at the strange pipes coming out of the walls in my basement, or try to figure out what switch hole is for which light, the pressure in my head starts to build up and images of all the tasks ahead of me flash before my eyes. It all seems an insurmountable challenge at the moment with time running out.

On top of that, Lottie is now too big and bossy for her little travel cot which has housed her for half of each day while Peter and I have worked in the shop. She has slept part of the time and had regular walks of freedom but I think I've out-stretched the confinement period.

My mother discovered a stress point on her arm recently while she was out shopping on the shady side of the road, with sun glasses on. Steps are not as noticeable in Spain as the Spanish believe, and rightly so, that we are each responsible for our safety. In Britain, there is a warning sign at every step just to be as sure as sure can be that no-one is going to trip or fall. I'm amazed doors do not yet have signs on saying 'step back from the door as you pull it towards you'.

Anyway, down the steps my mother flew and landed on her arm which broke near the wrist. Luckily my father was nearby and whisked her off to Can Misses. After an operation to join the bits together again, my mother stayed the night. When I went to see her the next morning, her top lip was so big it looked like she'd had collagen injections.

Despite having a broken arm, my mother has offered to babysit Lottie during the day while I work. Thank goodness for that! It does, however, mean my father will have to change her nappy which is something he's probably not done for a long time. He's going to get a nasty shock....some of her productions are of knock-out proportions!

Some good news; the shop two doors down from me has been sold recently and the new lady owner has an army of men working on it with the aim of opening at the end of next month. It's going to be a ladies' boutique....perfect. Someone asked about the shop next to mine, saying they wanted to open a medical centre. Hmmm....not very exciting for tourists but better than nothing.

A friend of Peter's also suggested I should try to arrange a street party with all the nearby shops as a way of introducing them to Ibiza. Maybe Bar Piralta could provide the drinks, the cafe could provide the food and I could provide the entertainment and music. I'll add it to my list of things to do. Oh crumbs!

ibiza, holidays, accommodation, real estate, clubs, UK, swimming, fashion, jewellery, sea, sunshine, music, dancing, parties, europe, travel, flights, hotels, last minute, car hire, pacha, amnesia, privelege, cameras, photography

CLICK THIS TEXT TO GO TO
LOTTIE BOGOTTI, the eco-friendly shop in Ibiza.






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