TEN YEARS AT INC

Susannah is still savouring nuggets of good conversation

This month marks a decade since I joined INC. Ten years ago, I wandered around clusters of animated women, chatting nineteen to the dozen in the shady patio at Palacio Fortuny. Brigitte (our VP at the time), like our current VP´s, Ale and Candice, knew that during the first Monthly Meeting of the INC year members wanted to regroup over a delicious coffee and quality croissants (4 mini croissants equal one regular-sized one, right??). And that´s exactly what we did last Friday, in a stunning setting opposite the shimmering Lago.

Conversation flowing easily at our first Monthly Meeting of the season

Except ten years later, as I floated round the room with my antennae on full alert, I noticed that the conversation topics were far more diverse and so were the accents…both reflecting our ever-widening spectrum of nationalities amongst our members. So this year I participated in discussions about the UN in Switzerland, cycling in Holland, free camping in Medellín, an expat club in Sarajevo, nursing in Copenhagen, Michelin star restaurants in Queenstown or books to scare you (Kristen – if I need a Valium to finish it you´ll be the first to know…). Not to mention our Spanish members who provide valuable insight on the “real deal” here lest we end up in a tourist trap, plus insight into the flip side of being an expat in places where we are locals.

Ale and Candice nail it at our first MM of the season, Brigitte, Tiffany and Roz to their right

Every time I join an INC event I have absolutely no idea which direction the conversation is going to go. Yet, unlike the M30 tunnel which can go any way, except the way you want to take, I always leave enriched by some interesting titbit of information either about Spain or about the hidden lives of our varied members. This always makes for a fascinating experience, especially for a nosy person like me.

A chatty Monthly Meeting at Palacio Fortuny from the archive

International conversations and meaningful connections with people who have lived multi-faceted lives are what makes me tick. I crave it. It´s possibly the antidote to my annual holidays in the frozen wilds of Northern Scotland which I loved at the time but to which I´d have preferred to have added the odd trip to a warm sea that didn´t turn your legs blue. My parents were very astute and used to leave us in wellington boots with both grandmothers while they gallivanted off to sample garlic prawns in far-flung places such as Morocco or France. I have been tempted to do the same with my own offspring but as they´re now becoming half civilised I´ve probably left it a bit late.

Ondarreta´s iconic carpas (changing tents)

This summer, our children were certainly with us in the car up to San Sebastián, but once we arrived they were soon lost among the other Madrid-on-Sea families in Ondarreta where my mother-in-law has a house. As I prefer to remain on good terms with my in- laws (my husband is one of eight) we rent our own apartment. This particular model of Spanish holiday is quite a common one here and reminds me of other family holidays in Cornwall, South West England. You ditch your perfectly decent primary residence for a student-style hovel near the beach where you then get sucked into conversation en masse with 80 other families who also live in the same city as yourself. Those who haven´t rented a musty apartment with only four forks, squeeze in miraculously like sardines in bunk beds into their family´s apartment, or worse still, their in laws’ summer residence, and play “happy families” for a fortnight dining off the same Mercadona delicacies as in Madrid.

Scottish weather in San Sebastián

However, there are plenty of advantages to this holiday model. With any luck María (there´s always one) will have set up a marvellous what´s app group in which you state your child´s birth year and then someone will arrange a full social and sports calendar for the entire fortnight for that cohort. Leaving you free to catch up on a year´s reading. Except you won´t be able to read a word on the beach because every time you open your book you will be inundated by fellow Madrileños asking you “Hola, when did you arrive, how long are you here for, are you staying in the same cramped place as last year?”

Busted for reading at the races, although better caught with a book than a phone in my book

That is why I occasionally camouflage myself on another section of beach and devour an entire book in one sitting! Fortunately, when night falls, with any luck, your cherubs will be entertained at María’s with Mcburgers and a few rounds of Mus, the de rigueur card game, leaving you free to hit the city´s best pincho bars with your spouse. Whilst enjoying a decent conversation in peace. So I suppose some holidays en masse do have their pros…..

A work of art or a pincho?