Lockdown

12.04.20 — Madrid

After my previous blog post, in which I looked back at everything I got up to before that fateful 13th March, it was pretty obvious that my next post had to be about the one and only topic on everyone’s lips: coronavirus. There are plenty of trustworthy sources of information (see: not social media) and plenty of interesting articles about the virus and the resultant lockdowns currently in place all over the world, so I shan’t be delving into this much-covered realm. Rather than rattle off any facts or advice, I thought it would be more interesting for me, and hopefully for you too, if I were to share my personal experiences thus far.

Immediately after having said that I won’t be talking about any facts, I shall now talk about some facts – but I think they form an important preamble in order to provide you with some context.

Madrid, where I live, is the worst-hit area of Spain, a country with around 900 COVID-19-related deaths being reported every 24 hours at the peak of the outbreak. The country has been on official lockdown for over four weeks now, with people only able leave the house for food, medical reasons, to work (in essential sectors only), to walk their dog, or to assist those who are dependant on them. Every establishment which doesn’t sell food, medicine, or essential products has been closed. I live alone and have been working from home for the past month, leaving my flat only to buy food a few times and visit the laundrette.

It’s a lot of information to take in, and it does sound rather drastic, but I will be touching on all this as we go along. In order for me to make some sense of what I am about to write, I shall break this reflective post down into four sections: the descent into lockdown, life in my flat, life outside my flat, and what’s to come.

The descent into lockdown

As touched on previously, the descent into the current state of emergency was chaotic at best. It all began with the announcement on a Monday that all education centres were to close by the Wednesday, which sent every parent I know flapping and every student I know cheering. I wasn’t amongst those directly affected by this, but the announcement definitely marked a turning point.

As well as watching all the parents I know frantically trying to work out how they would secure childcare, I also saw students’ initial celebrations slowly turn into doubts and worries about how and if they would graduate. That night, I had to take a taxi home, as my colleague who usually drives me into the centre had to rush back to make plans with her family. The taxi dropped me off at the shop, where I had to pick up a few extra ingredients to cook a meal, but something was off.

The supermarket had queues like I’d never seen before. Nothing too crazy, it just seemed a lot busier, and there was an air of unease. I say unease and not panic because I don’t think I can compare it to the histeria which seems to have descended over the United Kingdom, but people did seem to be preparing for something. I did my best to not let this get to me at all, strolling casually amongst the aisles, picking up a few extra bits and bats along the way – some cans of food and some soups.

I suppose now is the time when I must make a comment about the red mist which has descended and caused people to panic-buy toilet roll around the world: what ever for? This is not a virus whose primary symptom is diarrhoea, nor has a disastrous world event threatened the supply of toilet paper. I can only assume that people have been buying so much of the stuff because they foresaw themselves spending a long time in isolation, but in this case, why has nobody been panic-buying non-perishable food in such quantities? Without being crude, I think having to clean oneself via alternative means is a lot less daunting than the thought of running out of food altogether. Maybe there’s some deep psychological terror associated with the thought of losing this everyday item, but in my head, starving to death is a lot harder to deal with than having to take a quick shower after going to the toilet. It may be more hassle, but while we’re all stuck at home it’s not like we’re in a rush.

I have to catch myself to stop myself panicking.

Anyway, back to the supermarket. It’s during these uneasy moments that I remember that I live alone and far away from my family, and I have to catch myself to stop myself panicking. This was a skill that I mastered as the week continued, for the next day, we were all called to a meeting at work about our company’s plan during what were looking to be uncertain times. We were given the option to begin working from home, and so a small team (myself included) assembled in order to implement new protocols to facilitate remote working. Over the next 48 hours we had to configure tools for remote email and server access, new project management software, communication software, and team organisation tools. We had then to draw up plans for how these tools should be used, and brief the rest of the team on how we were going to try and make this new dynamic work.

Said days were some of the most chaotic I have ever experienced, with the strains of various considerations at the same time piling on from all sides. I had my personal health and wellbeing to worry about, including ensuring that I had all the necessary supplies and medicines at home in preparation for the looming lockdown; I had said task of implementing remote working protocols; and at the same time I also had to keep on top of all the ongoing projects at work, keeping the output as steady and uninterrupted as possible.

With the government’s advice changing daily, we saw the number of people in the office drop to just a handful by the Thursday of that week. This Thursday was a whirlwind for me, as I attempted to set up my work space at home, as well as being on constant call to try and iron out all the teething problems that everyone was experiencing as they began their first remote working experience.

I left a note on the back of my door reminding myself not to leave, and settled down for the start of life under lockdown.

After a rocky first day, Friday came around, and with it the total closure of our office. There was still no official lockdown order from the Spanish government, but many of us, myself included, decided that Friday would be the first day of our confinement. Just 24 hours before the official state of emergency was announced, I locked up my front door, left a note on the back of it reminding myself not to leave, and settled down for the start of life under lockdown.

Life in my flat

Friday was my first day of working from home, and saw my usually hourlong commute reduced to a five second walk from my bedroom to my improv working space in the living room. This meant I could snag an extra hour of sleep, which was rather welcome, and kicked off my quarantine with an optimistic energy which I would soon need.

Working from home has been a positive experience overall, with its ups and downs as it to be expected. We’ve definitely had to pull our socks up and get more organised, which has made things flow a lot smoother, but then quirks like slow server connections and dropped call connections have slowed us down a bit. I shan’t detail too much the trials and tribulations of remote working, however, as I feel like the time spent outside of work but stuck at home during these past few weeks is much more poignant.

I say this because I don’t believe that the lockdown has fundamentally affected my working life. At work, I have always been restricted to a particular place and a particular activity: I have to be in the office, and I have to be working. Lockdown may have me trapped at home, but I still have to be in a certain place (at my laptop), and I still have to be realising a certain activity (my work). Nothing has really changed.

I don’t believe that the lockdown has fundamentally affected my working life.

Once I sign off for the day, however, things have really changed. The commute to and from the office, which I have repeatedly cursed and complained about in the past, at least served to physically and mentally separate me from my work. For my own wellbeing, I still abide by my rule of completely disconnecting at the end of the working day, but storing a laptop away doesn’t provide the same physical experience which mentally distances the stress of the working day from my home, a space which should be for rest and relaxation.

I have always been one for associating certain moods with different physical spaces, which is why I stopped studying in bed and why I have never really been a massive advocate from working from home. If I spend eight hours stressing over work in my living room, I find it impossible to then kick back with a glass of wine and watch TV in that same space. When I used to work on freelance projects from my bed in the UK, I would then find it impossible to stop thinking and fall asleep, and so I eventually stated working from the kitchen (much to the annoyance of my poor mother).

If I had a separate office room in my flat, I might not have so many reservations about working and living in the same space, but for now I have to do the best that I can with the space that I have. I have expressly prohibited myself from ever working from anywhere that isn’t my table, and have conversely forced myself to immediately move away from this table once I put my work laptop away. It’s not much, but the small things are amplified thousandfold when most of my daily life is now spent within 40m².

I have always been one for associating certain moods with different physical spaces.

My flat isn’t the best place to be confined to, but of course I never considered that I would ever have to work from home when I was looking for a place to live here in Madrid. I wanted a separate living room and bedroom in order to have some privacy when guests came to visit, but I wasn’t fussed about having a balcony or views out on to the street, as I would much rather head out and enjoy the atmosphere on foot during warm summer evenings or fresh winter days. In fact, I was happy to have an interior-facing flat, as it meant that I enjoyed near silence at home, great for kicking back after work or a day out in the city.

As you can imagine, this decision hasn’t really been ideal during these times of quarantine. While the majority of the city leans out of its balconies for the daily 8pm applause, or even to sing and dance together, I have to make do with a view of the neighbours’ windows and the small square of sky that can be seen when I look up from mine. I am just thankful that my flat, being on the third floor of a four-storey building, receives lots of daylight and even a good few rays of sun during the day.

I shall try to refrain from excessive moaning, however, because I know that many people are in much worse situations. I have friends who are struggling to study, have had to apply for financial help from the government as they cannot work, and even some who find themselves – for one reason or another – ineligible to apply for said support. If I ever catch myself sulking about these relatively frivolous strains, I try to put my situation in perspective and count my lucky stars.

I’ve also a variety of ways of cheering myself up outside of work hours, including regular calls with family and friends from across the globe, as well as the odd spot of exercise, watching TV, cooking, baking, and even a spot of trying to learn new things. I’ve been refining my Spanish omelette technique, improving my Photoshop skills, and even trying to complete some Irish lessons on Duolingo, but I must stress that I’ve not been pushing myself too hard to be productive. I have seen many a well-meaning post rousing us to be as productive as possible during this lockdown, but I think that it’s important to remember that we are all trying to do our best in the middle of a global crisis – let’s not berate ourselves if we don’t come out the other end speaking another language and playing a musical instrument.

The best way by far to lift my spirits has been the rare opportunity to venture outside, as I am quite a claustrophobic person and have caught myself a couple of times panicking when remembering that I cannot leave my flat. It has almost been amusing to see tasks that I once complained about, such as taking out the rubbish or going to pick up some extra food, now becoming treasured opportunities and the highlight of my day. It’s a double edged sword though, which I shall now explain.

Life outside my flat

The act of leaving home is often a bittersweet experience, and it might not be for the reasons that you imagine. The isolation and solitude enforced by staying in my flat can be overwhelming, but the knowledge that I am safely isolated against the virus can also be of great comfort. Leaving the flat, be it for food or for medicines (the only two reasons for which I can/do leave), can often be rather nerve-wracking. I don’t have a mask or any decent protective gloves, so I often find myself hyper-conscious about maintaining distance between myself and others, often for their safety more than for my own. I sometimes find myself in a tizzy as I mentally repeat the mantras of safe social contact: maintain a 2m distance from others, don’t touch your face, cough into your elbow…

These considerations are certainly a mental drain, but they do not form the main reason for which the outside world now leaves me with a bittersweet feeling. I shall try to explain how two different ways of observing the outside world as I wander the streets can now uplift or sadden me in equal measure.

The outside world now leaves me with a bittersweet feeling.

Naturally, it’s a joy to be back on the streets. It’s lovely to speak to the occasional person, catch some rays of the springtime sun, and exercise my tired body a little. Watching the world carry on as much as it can, with people following the new norms and working together in order to protect each other, is lovely to see. Just the other day, I left the shop at around 8pm out of pure coincidence, and I found myself on a street which was suddenly alive with the roar of clapping, cheering, and even the buzz of a ratchet that an elderly gentlemen was swinging around with great gusto from his balcony.

This oxymoronic combination of a sense of normality mixed with such extraordinary outpourings of community spirit prompted by equally extraordinary circumstances have calming and uplifting effects respectively, and make such excursions into the outside world so enjoyable. There’s also the tonic offered by the mere reminder that I am not 100% trapped in my flat, which serves to relax my claustrophobic mind just enough to maintain my cool until the next time I’ll be out and about.

There is another way of seeing, however, as I pace the streets of the uneasily quiet city. No matter how much one may wish to cling to these glimpses of what the Spanish call la vida cotidiana, everyday life as we knew it, something is always amiss. There’s people on the streets, but nobody is stopping to greet each other. There’s no “hola” to strangers, and passing smiles are now hidden behind face masks. This I find particularly poignant, as I have always been delighted by the openness and chattiness of Spanish society, and to see this energy extinguished is sobering.

Then there’s the streets full of shuttered businesses. Bars, restaurants, book shops, flower shops, bakeries, gift shops – in my area there’s all sorts of services on offer, and they bring a real liveliness to the neighbourhood. Now, a silence has descended, and the usually rich texture created by the goods displayed behind their windows has been flattered into a wall of metal shutters. I’m also haunted by the possibility that many of these businesses may not survive the financial crash sure to be caused by this crisis, especially seeing as most of the offerings around me are independent and even family-owned.

This very real prospect also invokes another uneasiness, as I realise that what I considered to be my daily life may never return. There’s the awful possibility that some of my favourite haunts such as the terrace of a local bar, the bakery below my flat, and a Lebanese take-away across the road may not reopen. Just as I was settling into life here in Spain, building relationships and forming routines, it does seem like this crisis is pulling the rug out from underneath me. I reiterate that I, of course, have it relatively easy, but it does nevertheless leave me slightly disorientated and disheartened.

I have always been delighted by the chattiness of Spanish society, and to see this energy extinguished is sobering.

Little details also signal that not all is well and good, as the usual “muchas gracias, hasta luego” from the cashier in the supermarket now comes from behind a face mask and a large transparent acrylic screen suspended between me and them. There’s lines marked on the floor of pharmacies and shops alike, indicating where people should move around and how much distance they should maintain when queueing. Security guards act as bouncers outside of shops, directing the flow of people and instructing us to don gloves and disinfect our shopping trolley with alcohol gel before proceeding. Announcements remind us not to stockpile food, there’s a good spattering of empty shelves, and some staffed and self-service areas such as the bakery now have been shuttered or have had their produce pre-bagged.

As I say, the mood that my time outside my flat can leave me in varies depending on the way I look at things, and that can vary from excursion to excursion. One night I took out some recycling to be greeted by a dark and quiet street devoid of life. Another time, I saw colourful balloons and messages of hope reading “todo irá bien” (everything will be fine), and spoke to a group of old ladies – all stood meters from each other, of course. Sometimes a trip outside can result in a mini rollercoaster of emotions, as I complete the trip to the supermarket, looping back to my house in order to pass by the pharmacy. I can chat to people whilst shopping, pass by the sad sight of restaurant terraces now dusty and full of leaves, and then be reanimated by the cheerful music leaking from open windows.

What’s to come

Nobody can tell what will come of all this. I don’t know to what degree we will be able to return to normality, both because of the financial uncertainty caused by this crisis and health risks posed by the eventual lifting of quarantine measures. The Spanish government has emphasised that the eventual lifting of the state of emergency will be slow and stepped, indicating that certain activities will be gradually permitted as the numbers drop, all in an effort to allow people their freedoms without overwhelming the healthcare system.

Speaking of the healthcare system, I shall now do something that I dislike using my blog as a platform to do, and I will get a little political. To all those in the UK, please do not abuse the little freedoms that the government have left you in order to discretely meet people. In fact, wherever you are from, and no matter how much you want to see your family, spend time with your partner, or chill out with friends: don’t. Stay at home. Do not be so selfish as to think that because you nor the people you are meeting will be affected, that others will not suffer because of you. It is our collective responsibility to keep as many hospital beds free for those who need them.

Wherever you are from, please, stay at home.

As I have reiterated throughout this post: I am lucky. I can work, albeit with some caveats, from the safety and comfort of my own home. I would like to extend my gratitude to all those workers who are still out and fighting to keep all essential activities running. Let’s remember that these are the people that have often been looked down on, and who are still paid a pittance for jobs which many have suddenly begun to realise are, in fact, essential. Once we have are in more stable times, it might just be time to hold those in power accountable for ensuring that we prioritise what is truly essential, such as our public healthcare and many other professions which have not been able to simply pack up shop and go home during this quarantine.

I am also cautious of calling these essential workers heroes, as that implies that they have an alternative other than working. With the populous in lockdown and many legally obliged to stay at home, many workers have no other option than to work their now somewhat risky jobs in order to keep a steady income. I am also averse to hearing the privileged and those in power hail these essential workers as heroes, only to then refuse to reward them for their work. I am not in any way casting in doubt the bravery and stoicism of these people – they deserve all the praise and recognition that they can get – but I think that calling them heroes is a shallow gesture when they often have no alternative and are rarely awarded for their invaluable contribution by the same people who are supposed praising them.

Anyway, and to conclude, I wish everyone a happy and healthy spring holiday. I am in good health and good spirits, and I wish the same for you and everyone that you know. In these strange times, we’ve to talk openly about how we’re feeling, and keep in touch with each other as much as we can. Even if I have been calling friends just for the both of us to complain about being stuck indoors all day, a problem shared is a problem halved.

Thank you to everyone who has been calling and messaging to check in with me, and to all my family and friends who have to deal with my constant video calls when I need some virtual company here at home.

Todo irá bien.

Life Before Lockdown

20.03.20 — Madrid

In a stark contrast from my last post, in which I spoke about a trip from last month across Europe and all the way to Amsterdam, I write to you all from a country in complete lockdown. Here in Spain, all but essential travel has been banned, and so I’m now cooped up in my flat until further notice.

It’s a somber time, and something which I’ll touch on in a more reflective post at a later date, but for now I’m going to focus on the positives. I have some fun updates to share from before these measures came into place, and I must also give a huge shoutout to all my colleagues that make up the Erretres team – in a few short days, we’ve managed to move our entire operation online, and we’re all now working from home and as productive as we ever were. No small feat!

Anyway, let’s get back to pre-lockdown life, which I unconsciously but thankfully made the most of. In sharp contrast to the frostiness of Amsterdam, Madrid was just beginning to warm up, and so this meant plenty of outdoor time and wanders around the city to take in the upbeat atmosphere. One evening, I headed down to the river to watch the sun set and advance with reading my book, which I had abandoned somewhat after ditching the train to work in favour of a lift with a colleague.

The sun sets on a red building in Madrid, with trees and a fountain in the foreground.

La Puerta del Sol in Madrid, with the famous Tío Pepe neon sign.

Old text on an orange facade reading "Mercado Santa María de la Cabeza".

At work, I was also presented with a lovely surprise, as the U-Tad University sent me a wonderful gift to thank me for my participation as a speaker at the Prisma Design Fest a few weeks ago, an event which I documented in a blog post afterwards. I was chuffed to bits with my new fancy pen and a fabulous design book!

A pen in a box and Spin 360 design book.

The weekend after, I headed into the fancy Salamanca district of Madrid and met up with Soyoung, an ex-colleague from Erretres. We met at a lovely little café for some brunch and a much-needed chat to catch up on everything, from our work lives to what it was like to live as a married woman after her lovely wedding last year!

I sit next to a large stand with different brunch dishes on it.

I always fancied myself as one of the elegant ladies who lunch.

During our chat, we talked about her family back in South Korea and how the coronavirus was just beginning to spread there, and at that moment we had no idea how soon it would come and change everything here in Spain. Quite the foreshadowing…

The preceding weekend was to be, without anyone’s knowledge at the time, our last weekend of freedom for a while. Thankfully, two friends were celebrating their birthdays that week, and so the days were to be filled with fun evenings in great company.

This series of shenanigans kicked off with a trip to see “La Jaula de las Locas” (literally “The Cage of the Crazy Ladies”), a hilarious piece of theatre led by drag queens and some big names in Spanish showbiz. After paying for the cheaper seats, Bogar (the birthday boy), Hugo, and I were thrilled to be told that we could have a free upgrade, and took our places near the stage to enjoy a few hours of riotous scandal and great laughs.

A curtain on a stage reads "La jaula de las locas".

Hugo, Bogar, and I pose for a photo at the theatre.

I then found myself back out in the city a couple of days later, as Luis was also celebrating his birthday, and I was excited to see him again after he left Erretres a while back. A huge group of us gathered in a bar in Lavapiés, and we were all soon tipsily away, chatting (see: shouting, this is Spain after all), nibbling on some lunch, and roaring with laughter as he opened a few presents (including a prop of a severed foot, brownie points if you spot it in the photo below).

As the celebrations had kicked off at 2pm, I foolishly assumed that this meant that there would be time to head home for a siesta in between the afternoon drinks and the evening’s party, but I was mistaken. Instead I was informed that we’d be heading off to a party called Tortilla, which is named as such as they serve portion of tortilla (Spanish omelette) in the club. Yes. At the bar. In a club.

After a hilarious taxi journey, in which many of Luis’ lifetime friends asked me about my time in Spain, we rocked up at the club, and I was informed that they kick everyone out at 11pm – that’s my kind of club! We headed in, were joined by more friends and colleagues, and boogied on down until the very pleasant time of 10pm, when I said my goodbyes and hopped on the metro back home. I wish all my nights out ended on such a civilised note!

The sun sets over the financial district in the north of Madrid.

As I’d been out with Luis and company that evening, I missed out on the second night of celebrations for Bogar’s birthday, but I had secured him a great present to make it up to him: a trip to Hammam Al Ándalus, an Arab baths experience hidden in the city centre.

Naturally I don’t have any photos from our trip, as it was a lovely opportunity to disconnect, bathe, and enjoy a relaxing massage just as the coronavirus panic was hitting Spain, but we had a lovely time – even if Bogar was somewhat hungover! I do, however, have a photo of the churros which we devoured after a lovely post-bathe lunch – it may have been a mistake to book our two-hour slot for 2pm without having any lunch first!

There’s nothing like a big portion of churros after a steak lunch.

After this lovely weekend, the fateful week began. Monday began with business as usual, and ended with the whole of Spain on complete lockdown and everyone in obligatory quarantine. As I mentioned at the start of this post, I’ll be following up over the coming days (and perhaps even weeks) on the rapid switch to working from home and what it’s like to be on lockdown by myself.

But hey, it’s not all bad – I’ve been able to pull my favourite game, Roller Coaster Tycoon 3, out again, and there’s a new season of Élite on Netflix ready and waiting to be binge-watched. Also, it’s Friday night, and now I have the perfect excuse to open a bottle of wine and have a night in pampering myself. Every cloud!

Amsterdam

01.03.20 — Amsterdam

As mentioned at the end of my last post, Design Event Extravaganza, and continuing with the theme, I spent last weekend over in the Netherlands, attending the Awwwards Conference, a series of talks on the state of digital design. The trip was paid for by Erretres, and so me and my colleague Zoe jetted off from Madrid to Amsterdam on Wednesday evening straight from work.

With the busy weeks in the office preceding the trip, I hadn’t had much chance to do my research on this country that I’d never visited, and so I rocked up without even being entirely sure if they use the euro or not, where exactly the hostel was, or even how we were to get from the airport to the city centre. The same chaotic approach also went into my packing, as I spent half an hour the night before flying throwing stuff into my backpack rather willy-nilly, before hauling it to a client’s office in the centre, back to our office on the outskirts of the city, and finally over to the airport.

To summarise, the whole trip was rather spontaneous and chaotic, which was somewhat refreshing.

We arrived in Amsterdam near midnight, and fired up trusty ol’ Google Maps in order to make our way to our hostel. Hopping on a bus and discovering the first example of what would become many services which only accept payments by card, we eventually rocked up near the hostel and traversed some of the city’s streets by night.

Upon finding the hostel and checking in, we didn’t waste much time in getting off to bed, as we’d to be in the DeLaMar Theatre at 8am the next morning in order to register, pick up our passes, and grab a seat for the start of the conference!

The following morning ran pretty much like clockwork: I managed to be up, showered, and waiting for Zoe on the steps of the hostel in good time. The two of us then set off to the venue, catching our first glimpse of the city by day, albeit through a grey haze of rain. Google Maps then proceeded to fail us, dragging us down a back street two blocks from where we should have been, but we soon orientated ourself and wandered into the theatre.

After picking up our passes and free goodie bags, contained in a cool tote which has now become my new favourite shopping bag, we took our seats in the auditorium and waited for the talks to begin…

A harpist plays music on the stage at the Awwwards Conference in Amsterdam.

Then followed a day of awesome presentations by some really interesting speakers, ranging from the dark patterns used by some UX designers to the current state of accessibility, and even tips on how to overcome creative blocks and build great design teams. In between the talks, me and Zoe got chatting to a guy from the Netherlands, and also made the important discovery of a nearby supermarket in which to buy some belated breakfast.

The auditorium of the DeLaMar theatre in Amsterdam is filled with attendees of the Awwwards Conference.

After the day’s talks concluded at about six o’clock, the two of us headed back to the hostel for a siesta, as we’d planned to then head into the city centre itself for another networking event. It was a bit of an odd introduction to the new city, as the conference was on the city’s outskirts, and our first introduction to the canal-bisected streets of the centre was by night.

We caught a tram to said event, which took place in the rooftop suite of an office building, a place we couldn’t find thanks to Google Maps acting up on us again. We then came to the conclusion rather quickly that Google Maps really doesn’t like Amsterdam, but we weren’t too fussed as we managed to arrive before all the food and drinks had gone.

The evening event made for another interesting few hours, with presentations of new design software, talks on copywriting, and the chance to chat to some of the speakers from the day’s main event. We got chatting to the creative director of Büro, a design studio from Porto in Portugal which I have always been a fan of, as well as the developers of Framer, a new interactive design tool. I also discovered the wonders of Chocomel, a brand of chocolate milk that I took to drinking after discovering that the only beer on offer was Heineken. Bleugh.

Wooden slats between two buildings with the morning sky in the background.

The second day began with much brighter skies and even a few rays of sun, but the city remained freezing cold. After I couldn’t get in touch with Zoe, I wandered off to the event on my lonesome, snapping a few photos of the sights along the way and picking up some breakfast from the aforementioned supermarket.

A Mini Cooper, a bicycle, and an old gas lamp in front of old red brick houses in Amsterdam.

A blue tourist boat sits docked in a canal in Amsterdam, with the light of dawn breaking in the sky above.

The sun rises over the streets of Amsterdam.

Once I’d found Zoe, who’d been taken offline by the dodgy WiFi connection in the hostel, we took our seats for the second day of talks, and were once again entertained and inspired by another round of charismatic speakers who divulged personal experiences and tips for navigating the world of digital design, but also the design industry in general.

After the presentation of the Awwwards themselves, which are given out for best website and various other categories, the conference was officially over, and so we repeated the previous day’s routine: back to the hostel, a siesta, and then out for another afterparty. This time it was the official afterparty, in which we got chatting to a guy from Canada, and then some designers from Belarus and Germany.

We didn’t stay out too late, as the day after was Saturday and our only free day to actually explore what Amsterdam has to offer. As I said before, it was kind of odd: as I woke up on Saturday morning, I realised that I had been in the city for over 48 hours but still not actually seen anything of note!

To change that, me and Zoe regrouped and headed into the city centre, where we’d arranged to meet two of her friends who were visiting at the same time. After finding our preferred spot to be full and with a waiting list exceeding 45 minutes, we found another café in which to have some brunch and awaited their arrival.

A canal and streets in the centre of Amsterdam, set below a grey sky.

Zoe’s friends met us there, and we got chatting about all sorts of stuff, from design and UK life to their experience as primary school teachers. The four of us then set out to explore the city some more, wandering down Amsterdam’s kooky streets of thin, tall, and perilously crooked houses.

A canal winds through the streets of Amsterdam.

We were informed that the wonky appearance of these houses is because of the uneven settlement of the wooden-pile foundations into the waterlogged land on which they stand, and I guessed that the cranes built on to the roof of each of them was for hauling bulky stuff up to higher floors: the shallow houses have really steep staircases (our hostel’s stairs felt like a deathtrap) and so it would be practically impossible to haul a sofa, say, up them. This revelation came to me when we wandered past a group of guys hauling parts of their new sofa up the outside of their house to another guy who was half hanging out of the window of the third floor. Health and safety’s worst nightmare!

The streets of the red light district of Amsterdam.

A church spire between the tall, crooked buildings of central Amsterdam.

I usually try and straighten the lines of my photos, but this city made that impossible.

After exploring the chinatown district and the central station area, the four of us were once again peckish, and headed to a Sotto, a pizza restaurant that Zoe’s friend had found online. The place was a little way out, but it was worth the journey, as we tucked into a lovely round of thin crust pizzas.

With lunch devoured, we headed back to the centre, and soon found ourselves queuing to try the traditional Dutch pancakes at another recommended spot that Zoe’s friends had found. I ordered an apple crumple pancake, and was shocked to find that they were quite literal about the whole affair: my pancake had a huge mound of ice cream and apple crumble dumped on top!

This humongous dessert had us all itching to walk it off, and so we headed out in the dark in order to explore part of the city that we’d not yet been through: the red light district. With the aroma of marijuana following us around, and the regular spattering of the infamous window-fronted rooms, it was an experience unlike anything that I have lived before.

I wondered if I would be taken aback by this very liberal attitude to drugs and prostitution, but I actually found it refreshingly interesting. The streets of the neighbourhood were buzzing with people of all walks of life, and we dived in and out of bars and pubs, drinking and chatting the evening away.

The red light district was not half as imposing as I thought it would be.

Amsterdam's red light district by night.

All good things must come to an end, however, and so after our last drink in one of the bars, Zoe and I had to part ways with her friends and head back to our hostel for our last night’s sleep before our flight back to Madrid on Sunday morning. The return journey wasn’t half as eventful as the outbound flight, mainly because we actually knew where we were going and weren’t wondering what the name of the country was and whether we were about to get charged for using our Spanish cards abroad!

Well, as unprepared as I may have been for this short and busy trip to the Amsterdam, I had a lovely time in the city. I would like to return in summer, however, as I think the biting cold, nasty wind, and endless rain didn’t exactly present the Netherlands to us in its best light. That’s all good by me, though, as I’ve a good excuse to return again! Until the next time, Amsterdam…

Design Event Extravaganza

29.02.20 — Madrid

Since returning from Murcia almost a month ago, things have been rather hectic, the pace of change has been rather drastic, and I have been up to many new things; which all means that my blog has consequently been receiving very little TLC during the past few weeks. Now, however, and after another issue with my website going down for a few days, I am back once again to bring you a good few updates on what I’ve been up to!

An illuminated sign reading "Erretres – The Strategic Design Company".

I have been seeing quite a lot of this place!

In between many busy days in the office working for some pretty cool projects, I have been sure to balance work and play, heading out for plenty of lunches, dinners, and drinks with friends in between times. I don’t have any decent photos of said evenings, as sometimes it is best to just disconnect and enjoy the moment, but trust that I have been making the most of what Madrid’s culinary scene has to offer!

Alongside all this work and play come the moments of domesticity. I have had to endure further trips to the dentist, who I swear is trying to blind me with the particles of my teeth which go flying through the air whilst she drills further holes in my pearly whites. I also made my first pot of lentejas a la riojana, lentils cooked with chorizo and vegetables. I couldn’t really appreciate the first bowl, as my mouth was still half-numb from the dentists, but I must say that now it has worn off and I can reheat the stuff in peace, I feel worthy of being decreed king of lentejas!

One Friday afternoon saw the first in a series of design-related events, with the Collision network holding a ping-pong tournament in order to catch up with everyone involved in the mentorship programme. It soon became clear to me that I was destined to hover around the pizzas rather than progress much with the tournament (I have terrible hand-eye coordination), but I had a good few beers, chatted with everyone for a while, and had a lovely time.

The Collision ping-pong tournament event.

That weekend, I once again headed out with Bogar and Hugo, and we spent an evening watching the sun set over the city centre from a rooftop terrace in Callao. The beers that we enjoyed and the couple of hours out were most welcome, and the colours of the sky made for some lovely photos.

I then had a few days to prepare for the main design event around which has given this blog post its name. As a Lead Designer at Erretres, I was invited to talk in an event called Prisma, a conference about design and technology organised by the U-Tad university in Madrid. My talk presented quite a daunting task: I’d to give a 30-minute talk in Spanish in front of 200 attendees!

After prepping my presentation, which I had titled “Nuevas marcas en un panorama en constante cambio: branding digital para start-ups” (New brands in a landscape in constant change: digital branding for startups), I headed down to Medialab Prado to be mic-ed up and interviewed. I’d never been in the space before, but the Madrid-government-owned arts centre turned out to be a real architectural gem, full of neon yellow corridors and a lovely café space.

As the people filtered in, I was ambushed by a technician so that he could connect me up with a fancy wireless microphone, and I was soon on the front row and watching the first speaker present. Once he began to conclude his talk, I found myself up on the stage, and in a flash I had begun my talk, wittering on about how the difficulties of branding the new realm of digital startups.

My name is up on a screen at the Prisma design event.

I think that my talk went well – well, minus the cough that plagued me the whole time, that is. Over on my Twitter I got lots of great feedback, and stopped to chat to some of the attendees afterwards about the topics I’d presented about.

I had a great time at Prisma, meeting other professionals as well as design students, and it was a real personal achievement to get through a half-hour talk in my second language – if my Spanish teacher could see me now! Another personal highlight was definitely being able to put Burnley’s name up in lights – I never thought all those years ago when I first visited Madrid that I would ever be up on stage talking about my hometown!

I present a map with Burnley marked on it.

Burnley!

During the following weekend, I decided that I needed some fresh air, despite the dull skies that covered Madrid. Picking up a scooter, I headed off down the long Parque Madrid Río (Madrid River Park), which follows the river from my neighbourhood (in the south) all the way to the far west of the centre.

This little journey took me past the Royal Palace and the Almudena Cathedral, offering a different angle from the typical city-centre views of the regal architecture. It’s a very picturesque area, even if the cloudy skies bathe the photo below in a gloomy grey aura.

The royal palace and cathedral seen from the west of Madrid.

The following week marked the last day of my colleague Luis at Erretres, which was a bittersweet farewell. Luis has been a great colleague and good friend since I started at Erretres all those years ago, but I was happy to see him move on to bigger and better things.

Luis’ leaving also coincided with an open studio event thrown by Tres Tipos Gráficos, another Madrid design studio which I applied for back in 2015. There, I chatted with lots of friends, ex colleagues, and new contacts, and even the police shutting the event down couldn’t stop us – we simply shifted to an Irish pub nearby and ordered a round of gin and tonics!

February also brought around the dreaded February 14th, Valentine’s Day, but I decided to stick with tradition and instead celebrated the day after. I met up with Bogar for some coffee and cakes to celebrate Galentine’s Day, and we had a lovely time wandering around Malasaña until late.

My toothy date for Galentine’s day.

This brought in a weekend spent outdoors, as Madrid’s sun finally returned. Amongst running ends in the city, drinks on terraces with friends, and some cheekily-shaped waffles, I took the opportunity to take some photos of the city I call home.

The Puerta de Alcalá, a gateway in Madrid.

Gran Vía, the main road through the centre of Madrid.

This brings me relatively up-to-date, but there’s still another design event to tell you all about: the Awwwards Conference in Amsterdam! Just last weekend was my first time in the Netherlands, but I have decided that I shall keep that for another blog post: I’ve plenty of photos to sift through and I want to get this belated post out as quickly as possible!

Grey Skies Over Murcia

06.02.20 — Murcia

After saying that I was hoping to update you all and catch up on my delayed blog posts, I have managed to not do that. It’s been a hectic couple of weeks, however, so I have been spending my spare time as horizontal as possible whilst nursing a viral infection and then the pain of a rather stubborn filling in a back tooth.

Well, once I’d been shocked to find out that my colleague’s English teacher is also from Burnley, I was once again on the rather slow train down to my auntie and uncle’s place in Murcia. This always takes me back to the first time I visited Madrid, when I made this trip in reverse after spending a few days with my family, all leading up to my first time flying solo once I returned to the UK!

I landed in Murcia rather late, but not too late to have a couple of drinks and catch up with the two of them, after I last saw them in person when they passed by Madrid on their way back to England in October. The next day, we all hopped into the car and drove to the coastal city of Cartagena, driving under some rather threatening-looking skies.

My uncle walks up a strangely inclined path.

The main reason for said trip was to finally try a café asiático (literally “Asian coffee”), and my auntie and uncle knew just the place to take me. Down a little side street we found a little bar owned by Ramón, who explained to me the origins of the name of the coffee, which comes from its origin as a pick-me-up for sick travellers hailing from Asia.

Once I’d downed this very boozy coffee, we ordered a bite to eat and then I got chatting to the whole bar, from the owner to his wife to the regulars, and picked up a few tips on where to get the best egg-based dishes in Madrid. With this new information in tow, the three of us left the bar and back onto the rain-drenched streets, heading back to the dry warmth of the car.

The next day, I was finally taken to the Centro Cultural (Cultural Centre) in Sucina, the town closest to the Golf Resort on which my auntie and uncle live. They had been talking about visiting for a while, as they enjoy the home-cooked food that is prepared there by the lovely Mari Carmen.

Well, I was not disappointed! Mari Carmen was an excellent host, filling us up with chicken soup, garlic prawns, fried chicken, and even some lovely clams cooked in a herby sauce. We finished this off with some whiskey cake, before taking a seat outside and watching the sun go down with a beer.

We weren’t in much of a rush to leave the centre, you see, as it was time for one of the monthly activities that they run there: bingo! After getting chatting to the lovely ladies who were selling the cards, we all took our seats and got stuck into the various rounds of play, with a welcome break for some sweet wine and pastries in between.

Me, my auntie, and her friends at a game of bingo.

Neither me nor my auntie won anything, but we had plenty of fun!

After a day spent with a trip to IKEA to pick up some electronic doodahs that I couldn’t find in Madrid, my last day came around all too soon. In line with the tradition I started during one particular visit with my parents, we headed to another small town, Roldán, and to a lovely restaurant for a farewell lunch.

After a good laugh with the other couples who joined us (me being the youngest and most single, something to which I am well accustomed by this point), it was time for me to head back to the little town of Balsicas, a town blessed with a direct train link to the centre of Madrid.

During the train journey I finished the first season of “Years and Years”, a series which is beautiful, tragic, and terrifying in equal measure – you should all watch it if you can get access to it!

Arriving back in the capital with more spare time than usual due to my decision to catch the earlier train, I had arranged to head out with Bogar and Hugo for some ramen at the restaurant that Hugo works at. We thoroughly enjoyed slurping down the huge bowls of noodles and toppings, finishing our big meal with a few shots of saké, which was served warm – rather odd!

Bogar, me, and Hugo at the ramen restaurant.

Finishing my day with a delicious lunch with good friends was the perfect end to my mini holiday, and left me well rested and ready for the beginning of a couple of busy weeks in the office – but more on that to come soon!