Trying flyball: the team sport for dogs

I’m buried deep under my new electric blanket right now, trying to warm up after three hours — three hours! — of standing out in a wet field, watching dogs take turns chasing balls. Welcome to the world of flyball, a team sport for dogs, which involves them running relays over a few hurdles to a box that, when pressed, releases a ball.

It’s a popular choice for border collies, so we figured Chip would enjoy it — as long as he gets over his ball obsession, that is. He was the first dog up when training began. He did a few turns on the box and we were almost naive enough to believe he was off to a good start when he found a stray ball and sprinted down the field.

What followed next was absolute carnage — me, my husband, and five elderly women, all shouting his name and throwing tennis balls around, trying to get him to come close enough so we could put him back on lead. But Chip’s not stupid, he knew that’s what we were trying to do, so despite his interest in the balls, he kept well away.

It took another 10 minutes or so to capture him, after which his turn had passed and the better behaved dogs were brought out. And when I say “better behaved”, I just mean more practised. They each still had their quirks — one dog refused to jump the hurdles and ran around them, one would run perfectly but return on a different lane, one couldn’t grab the balls, and one was a tiny puppy more interested in socialising.

In other words, Chip is in good company. The most important thing is that his brain’s engaged. He enjoys the new commands — even if he doesn’t always choose to follow them. As for me, flyball gives me something to write about, because I’ve been awfully quiet lately — mostly because I’ve become boring.

I went to Spain, but I skipped a trip to Berlin the following weekend. I haven’t been to the theatre since Spamalot. I haven’t been on any runs since last month’s cross country. Instead, I’ve been working, painting, and selling my old clothes on Vinted. Oh, and I started a newsletter. But time keeps getting away from me, so that three hours in the cold this morning was probably the most fun I’ve had lately.

At least Chip enjoyed it — and as for me, who knows? Maybe I’ll do something more exciting in December.

Travels through Spain & Gibraltar

Every time I go on holiday, I tell myself to take it easy. Every time, I fail.

There’s just too much to do and see in the world. This past weekend, we went to Sevilla for three days. I’d been once before, and had an amazing time, so I was looking forward to returning to the capital of Andalusia.

We arrived in the evening, but still early enough to climb Las Setas for an evening light show, followed by a dinner of tapas and red wine at Los Coloniales. The next morning, we headed immediately for the famous Plaza de España, which is actually a lot more modern than I would’ve expected — built in 1928, it’s less than a century old.

Tickets to the Real Alcázar were fully booked for the day, so we reserved them for Monday and rented some bicycles. What followed was a return to childhood — we raced across the dusty, unpaved paths of outer Sevilla, pacing mules and horses and Roma camps. The winter sun felt just as hot as Eastern Europe in July.

Our first stop was the Andalusian Centre for Contemporary Art, housed in a former monastery, where we admired the intricate woven pieces of Małgorzata Mirga-Tas, a Romani artist working to confront and challenge stereotypes. We then headed to the Roman ruins of Itálica — a settlement dating back to 206 BC — taking in the amphitheatre and mosaics.

It was saturated day, but, as usual, I was hungry for more. Turns out, Gibraltar is just an hour and a half away, and since the main attractions were planned for Monday, that left Sunday free for a road trip. I have to admit, I did take a cheeky look at the ferries to Tangiers, but ruled it out due to timings.

Coming from the UK, Gibraltar strikes me as such a strange place — it’s basically like a very cramped, dirty, not very well off England, but with great weather, fantastic views, and macaques. All the shops are basically the same as on the high street, and our only choice of restaurants was exactly what we’d find in a London shopping centre.

That being said, I absolutely loved it. £36 got us two tickets to the Gibraltar Nature Reserve and access to all the sights — the Moorish Castle, WWII tunnels, St Michael’s Cave, Skywalk, and more. It was amazing to learn about the history of this tiny place which somehow managed to remain British despite constant Spanish pressure.

We stopped at Cádiz for a disappointing dinner on our way back to Sevilla, but though we weren’t impressed with the food or the service, the town was stunning, even at night — definitely worth another visit. After an exhausting day, we collapsed as soon as we returned to the hotel, preparing for an early morning wake up to finally see the main sights of Sevilla.

On the last day, we finally got a little bit of rest — if walking 20,000 steps up, down, and around the Alcazar and the adjacent Catedral de Sevilla with its La Giralda, formerly the minaret of a mosque that stood on the site under Muslim rule, counts as rest. Well, at least in between our visits we took long breaks in tavernas, enjoying sangria and tapas and replenishing our strength.

The Alcazar was partially under reconstruction, but no less lovely than I remember it from five years ago. We sped through the museum and then spent ages walking through the mosaics and gardens, appreciating the views. La Giralda, meanwhile, was absolutely packed with tourists, but it was nevertheless an educational visit — in the queue, we met an elderly American gentleman, who shared that it was built in a way to enable riders to quickly race up the tower on horseback to spread any urgent news. We finished the tour in the cathedral, overwhelmed by its majesty.

Soon, it was time to head to the airport and fly back to London, kicking myself for opting not to stay longer. I guess there’s always next time!