Nica in Newcastle on a Friday Night

I have been enjoying using www.lovefilm.com.

For the uninitiated you sign up. You list all the films you ever wanted to see. You pays your money and you slowly work your way through the movies.

They send you the DVD. You watch it. Return it to its envelope and then drop it in a post box. Then they send you the next one.

Simple.

So anyway, I have been watching all the movies I’d always meant to.

I recently watched Kes. As part of the ourwoman’s introduction to Tyneside we also rented Get Carter. We head to Dublin for a short break soon so I have added The Van. It’s been fun.

On the list also was Carla’s Song. A story of a Nicaraguan refugee who finds herself in Scotland before returning to her homeland to face her demons (pic above).

I had been meaning to watch it for years. Directed by Ken Loach. Filmed in my old Nica stamping ground. Starring Robert Carlyle. What’s not to like?

It’s a film split into two. Starting in Scotland and finishing in Nicaragua. The Glasgow bit was good. Then the Nica bit started up…

We laughed straight off – the first thing we heard when they touched down was “Managua, Managua, Managua,” the cry of the bus conductors heading to the capital. We’d take the bus from Granada every couple of weeks to luxuriate in the air con of the cinema.

Then the main characters settle into their hotel room. Just as Carlyle was remarking how nice it was nice, the lights went out. That happened to us a lot too.

While suffering the Newcastle November cold, the warmth of Nicaragua looked so inviting. Later, when the action switched to Esteli we recognised the town centre murals. Sandino, whose image cropped up every few minutes, seemed like an old friend.

We enjoyed it tremendously. It also prompted us to ask: “What the hell happened to us there?”

In some ways, I am still at a loss as to why our time there didn’t work. In all honesty I am a little ashamed. Sure we were somewhat isolated and under employed but the wonder of the place should have been enough to keep us interested. Shouldn’t it?

Either way we started thinking up the little things we missed. The kids of Calle Arsenal, Tona Beer, mojitos at “the Spanish place”, going up Volcan Mombacho, swimming in Laguna de Apoyo, Eskimo ice creams. Café Freezes in EuroCafe, the Nica-fayre at that buffet place just off the market square. Then there’s gallo pinto, ceviche, picos, rojita, Flora De Cana,  breakfasts at Ed’s or Kathy’s.

Anyway, I’d recommend Carla’s Song, and Nicaragua to anyone. We enjoyed them both. Certainly we should have enjoyed the latter much more than we did.

But on a Friday evening with temperatures dropping to zero outside, curled up on the sofa it was a beautiful piece of escapism that jogged some very welcome memories.

Sign up to www.lovefilm.com here and, shamefully, I get a kickback.