Heidi & Axel

15.06.25 — Oslo

Heidi & Axel

15.06.25 — Oslo

Unisex changing rooms? You could tell who the Anglo-Saxons of the group were: me and Megan were having none of it. Whilst we contorted our bodies within our towels to avoid flashing the old couple next to us, we wondered how the Norwegians had ever thought that having us all share the same tiny changing room was a good idea.

The same Norwegians also reckon that bathing in the freezing water of the fjord is good for your health, but I am living proof that it most certainly is not. I avoided the menacing jellyfish and managed to prevent myself from passing out in the oppressive heat of the saunas, but something didn’t sit well with me during our “wellness” outing to the floating spa. Waking up full of a cold the next morning was a bit of an issue, as it was a very important day — it was time for Heidi and Axel to tie the knot!

The celebrations had already kicked off a couple of days before, where an unsuspecting bar in a very rainy Oslo saw us four constituent members of Cake Club meet up together for the first time in years. This was followed the next day by a picnic under a glorious bout of sun, making for two lovely outings with plenty to catch up on before the main event.

Heidi and Axel’s wedding was then a day full of love, laughs, and, in my case, paracetamol. I watched, teary eyed, as two good friends married each other with gorgeous views over the Oslo fjord. We then headed inside to feast, chat, and dance the night away in a celebration that kept on going until we were offered a questionable midnight snack consisting of hot dogs rolled in tortillas. Jokes aside, the wedding was everything I could have wished for them, and so much more.

It was also a lovely chance to catch up with old friends and make a few new ones along the way. I never doubted that Heidi and Axel would surround themselves with amazing people, but I felt honoured to be invited along to take part. The few days I spent in Oslo made for some much-needed quality time with Megan, Loredana, David, and so many more. There’s nothing better in life than those midnight conversations that go on for so long that the sun begins to rise before your very eyes.

Long live Heidi and Axel!

Laughter Therapy

10.05.25 — Blackpool

Laughter Therapy

10.05.25 — Blackpool

It’s been a rough few months for everyone around me. I’ve been advancing with my physical recovery and my family has been dealing with a few private matters that are challenging us all.

These testing times, combined with the fact that I’d not been able to visit my motherland for almost a whole year, meant that I boarded a plane to Manchester with more gusto than ever before. A short flight later, I was reunited with my parents and sister for a few days of relaxation and quality time together under a rare and much appreciated bout of English sunshine.

I did have to work remotely for a few days, but the nationwide power cut in Spain meant that I had one of the afternoons off. Despite the chaos that ensued across the Iberian Peninsula, it came to me as a blessing: I had even more time to spend with my family.

I also made time to catch up with two friends I hold very dearly. Amber took me for lunch in a very sunny Towneley Park, and then the next day I picked up some fish and chips and pottered down to Jemma’s house for a catch up after she visited me in Madrid just before my accident.

Saturday then saw me head out with Abi and Danni for a day at one of our favourite places in the world: Blackpool Pleasure Beach. It was a day full of rides, food, and some absolutely stellar people watching. Blackpool is a gem of a place and a true cultural phenomenon. I will not have anyone tell me otherwise.

But most of all, it was a day full of laughter, and that was just what I needed. I’ve had my physiotherapy, my hydrotherapy, and my psychotherapy; I was just missing the joy of laughing myself hoarse and —in doing so— losing my train of thought completely. I needed this all-consuming elation, the type that makes all preoccupations and anxieties dissipate.

This day with friends topped off a week spent with the people who know me the most: my family. This trip was just what I needed.

Xixón

21.04.25 — Gijón

Xixón

21.04.25 — Gijón

Being discharged from physiotherapy and sent back to work meant I was, once again, free to travel. Since the accident, I hadn’t been allowed to leave the Community of Madrid, so I immediately looked to visit somewhere —anywhere— for a change of scenery. This, naturally, took me to Asturias.

Asturias is a place that I will always return to. Since my Asturian friend, Kevin, showed me its wonders, I have felt a strong draw to this slice of northern Spain. Its people, its landscapes, its food: something about this Celtic region makes it feel like home to me.

So, when Sara told me she’d be visiting her hometown of Gijón (Xixón in the Asturian language), I knew where I’d to go. It might not be the most interesting or beautiful city on this Iberian peninsula, but it is a place that I hold dear.

I splashed out on a hotel and didn’t hold back when ordering food. The sudden hunger to do everything I hadn’t been able to before brought me back to the post-pandemic period, when we were all scrambling to travel, celebrate, and live a little after so much time stuck indoors. I spent time with Sara and friends, drank cider even though I shouldn’t, and watched the sunset from my overpriced hotel room. I felt defiant, I felt good. I’d had my first taste of normality, but this was my first taste of freedom — and my first taste of a decent cachopo in a while…

Back to Work

16.04.25 — Madrid

Back to Work

16.04.25 — Madrid

As I began to regain strength in my knee, I was eventually able to ditch the crutches altogether. This was great news for my recovery progress, but terrible news for my guaranteed seat on the metro. I’d gotten quite used to this little luxury during my trips to and from the physiotherapy room.

These hospital trips were soon replaced by my commute to the office, as I was abruptly discharged from one day to the other. I told Fernando this over sushi one Tuesday evening, and then was rudely awoken by my alarm the following morning: my first day back at work.

Some would moan about going back —most of my fellow patients certainly did— but I was quite happy to be back. It was a bit painful at first, but I didn’t care, as the return to a routine and a sense of purpose did me wonders. I’d also really missed having creative challenges and, more than anything, the company of my colleagues. All this time left me with time to reflect on how lucky I am to work in such a varied job with such great people.

The best thing about all this was I was back to some normality just in time for spring. This meant I could enjoy a meal for Sara’s birthday, celebrate my own birthday, and even spend an hour or so on my feet at a gig for San Isidro just down the road from my house.

I was started to feel like me again.

Mareo

09.04.25 — Madrid

Mareo

09.04.25 — Madrid

When I fell off my bike, my knee wasn’t the only casualty. As I lay in the ambulance and listened to the sirens above, my worry moved from the pain in my leg to whether I’d lost anything during the fall. I saw I was missing a shoe, but the nurse assured me that it was with my backpack on the floor. I then checked my pockets in search of my wallet, keys, and phone.

The latter seemed to have fared pretty well, despite my refusal to ever use a protective case. The glass of its front and the back was fully intact. I thought that it’d made it through unscathed, until I noticed that half of one of the camera lenses was missing. Shit.

Later, as I sat awaiting the results of my x-ray, I began to nervously pick out the last tiny shards of glass from the broken lens until the whole camera module was exposed. I then checked which of the three cameras on my phone has broken and discovered that it was the 0.5x zoom lens.

My first instinct was to look to buy a new phone. For a while I’d been secretly waiting for an excuse to retire my iPhone 12, and this seemed like the perfect one. During the next few days at home, I busied myself looking at options, from refurbished iPhones to Androids.

But then I started taking photos with the broken camera. I discovered that the photos would come back blurry, way too high in contrast, and with an odd perspective. As I hobbled around in pain and on my crutches, the photos I took were dizzy and disorientated—just as I was. It all seemed very fitting, so I never did change phones.

These are some of the photos from that time.

This title of this post, ‘Mareo’, is a Spanish word meaning dizziness or vertigo. I think it sums up my experience well.