Author: Kate Wilson

Burns Night in Granollers

~ Kate Wilson ~ 5 Comments

This was very different from the Burns night we celebrated in Barcelona a few years ago. It feels so much better celebrating with good friends and being relaxed even though there wasn’t so much room for the Gay Gordons. As I was mugging up on all things Robert Burnsy I also learnt quite a lot that I hadn’t known before.

  • Lots of people all over the world know Auld Lang Syne but have never heard of Robert Burns.
  • In Catalunya they call that song  ‘És L’Hora Dels Adiéus’ 
  • Burns died age 37 only a few days after writing to a cousin pleading for money to pay a bill
  • As with many genius’ he died in poverty but his funeral was attended by thousands
  • The traditional of Burns Suppers was started by his friends after his death and the food is based on his favourite dishes
  • The bawdy poems are available on the internet and some of them are very funny*
  • For 5 people you do need two vegetarian haggis – everyone had second helpings!
  • Cock-a-Leekie soup has prunes in it but you can’t tell when you eat it

This was our menu

  • Cock-a-Leekie Soup
  • Haggis with Neeps and Tatties
  • Cranachan with ginger biscuits instead of shortbread
  • Oatcakes with French cheeses (in honour of the Auld Alliance between Scotland and France)
  • Whisky – 10 year 12 year and 18 year

I had bought the haggis and turnips in the UK last week but I wonder if you can get them in Barcelona?  Must look into that for next year when I hope to have my first home grown potatoes.
The whole menu was vegetarian although I read last week that the vegetarian haggis is a mythical creature – they are a carnivorous species!

Here are our lovely MacGuests- thanks so much for getting into the spirit of the evening!

And I’ll finish with a Scottish joke to remind us of the strange link between the Scots and the Catalans who are both the butts of this kind of joke!

A Thoughtful Scottish Husband

Did you hear about the thoughtful Scotsman who was heading out to the pub? He turned to his wee wife before leaving and said, ‘Jackie – put your hat and coat on lassie.’
She replied, ‘Awe Iain that’s nice – are you taking me to the pub with you?’
‘Nah, I’m just switching the central heating off while I’m oot.’

*If you want to see the one I read out then leave me a comment and I’ll print it!

Crimes against humanity – the bombing of Barcelona

~ Kate Wilson ~ 4 Comments

On 31st May 1938 Granollers was bombed by Italian fighter planes who were supporting Franco’s forces in the Civil War. I want to write about that nearer the anniversary but today I saw some news I thought was interesting.
A court in Barcelona has ordered that there should be an investigation into crimes against humanity when civilian areas of Barcelona were bombed earlier that year, also by Italian forces. Because of the 1977 law of amnesty that guarantees members of Franco’s regime immunity from prosecution there have been no opportunities to challenge whose who committed crimes in the Civil War.  But because the bombing of Barcelona (and Granollers) was done by foreign troops(although clearly with the approval of Franco)  it is possible to slip past this legal muffler of truth. Here is an article in Spanish with a lot more information.

There is always the question – is it better to move on and let tragic sleeping or dead dogs lie? Or is it important to open up old wounds so that they can be cleansed and heal?

It is all so recent. Living memory. People who were victims of the bombing are still alive. And those who bombed – many of them too are still alive.  Although quite old. But does that make them innocent?  Personally I have always thought it important to get things out into the open – but it also depends on whether is is done with the intention of healing and moving on or of punishment. It’s such a big question and one I expect that will be discussed here a lot while the process unfolds.

 

My journey home

~ Kate Wilson ~ 2 Comments

Travelling in Britain when there are a few inches of snow is a good way to remind yourself why you are living in Spain!

What happened?  How was my journey?  Don’t read unless you want to know – here it is!

  • Monday morning receive text from Easyjet saying plane will be delayed two hours till 18.05
  • Decide to leave early anyway because of possible train problems
  • Get to Cambridge station early to catch 11.15 to Kings Cross
  • 11.15 to Kings Cross ‘delayed’ – no other information
  • Hope rises with announcement that 11.15 will leave from Platform 7.   Lug case over there.              Who would think that 16 kgs would be so heavy. It’s the haggis I suppose.
  • Platform 7 already has a crowd of people and a silent waiting train bound for Liverpool Street
  • All trains to Kings Cross cancelled because of an accident.
  • There is no-one giving information in person so we all try to intuit what is the best way to get to London. Much frowning and jumping on and off the quiet train as it waits for a driver to arrive.
  • Eventually we all set off  for Liverpool Street on this train.
  • Slow gentle ride to London stopping at all stations on the way. How pretty the snow!
  • Tube journey to Kings Cross and a short walk to St Pancras – how do old or disabled people manage with all these stairs?
  • Train to Gatwick is ‘delayed’.  There is still no-one giving information. But there are a lot of people with suitcases. We scan the departure boards anxiously. After the Cambridge experience I no longer trust the word ‘delayed’ which might without warning change into ‘cancelled’.         This is when I get that feeling of hatred for public transport in the UK. That sort of reaction I normally judge in other people. That ‘what is the matter with this bloody country I can’t wait to get out?‘ sort of feeling. Then there was one of those wonderful tannoy announcements made famous by Jacques Tati in M Hulot’s Holiday which was was like someone gargling under water and totally incomprehensible.  I began to laugh and felt better.
  • Should I wait patiently or go to Victoria for Gatwick Express? Yes No Yes No …….ah, the train arrives.
  • Slow gentle ride to Gatwick  – no toilets. But how pretty the snow!
  • Arrive Easyjet check-in 45 minutes before original flight time. The check in desk said  ‘No, there is no delay! The flight will leave on time’   She looked surprised that I had thought otherwise.
  • Departure lounge – no gate details yet so I go to the loo – at last!
  • Coming out again I look up and it says ‘Gate 46 Easyjet.  Gates Closed’!
  • Nightmare run along endless corridors alongside a hundred other panting and panicking passengers. Our gate is at the furthest end of the airport. No time to buy a paper or coffee or water.
  • Gate 46 – two bored Easyjet staff smile at us as we arrive sweating and dishevelled.  ‘No that was a mistake – the gates are not closed. Please take a seat!’
  • There is a vending machine – I lose £1.20 trying to buy a bottle of water.  So does another woman.  After that we stand guard to warn people off.
  • Sitting down, tired, hungry, thirsty and confused we all receive another text message telling us the flight is delayed and offering food coupons.
  • We get on the plane which leaves exactly on time – at 16.05
  • Lovely Barcelona airport.
  • I have a strong coffee and a potato omelette roll.
  • The walk to the train is so easy. There are escalators. The journey takes one hour and I am home.
  • Lovely welcome from dog and man.

I am in London

~ Kate Wilson ~ 3 Comments

I am in London

Right now I am in East Finchley, sitting in a warm bustley cafe that has lately become horribly familiar as it is opposite the station and not far from the Islington and St Pancras Crematorium.
Today we are going to scatter my brothers ashes, to reunite him with his daughter, my niece, who is already resting there.  The day we have chosen has turned out to be the day of the Big Snow. At the moment there is only a light splattering but it is expected to disrupt trains and roads and perhaps even planes, as is typical in a UK winter weather challenge.

I lived in London for 15 years from the early 80’s to the mid 90’s. Everywhere I go is a trigger for memories and I feel I am swimming in an enormous lake into which has been tossed many objects from my past. They bob past me and I idly remember little things – some funny, some sad, some just plain factual. All of it gives me a hefty reminder of time passing and getting older. Perhaps it is not a lake but some Proustian soup that I have dived into?

Yesterday I went with my good friend Janet (who I met on almost my first day in London back in 1980) to have a steam bath in Ironmonger Row. Our ritual used to be a weekly steam at the baths in Porchester Row but we did sometimes go to the East London one. Both were places of total relaxation, of deep cleansing for our spirits as well as our bodies

Oh how changes can hurt!
This is definitely not an advertisement for Ironmonger Row – the New Look. 
It is now called a Spa and has been ‘improved’ which means it is no longer the preserve of female bodies in all their young/old, fat/thin, black/white glories.  It is bigger, dimly lit and more scented.  There are false battery-operated candles and showers called ‘The Monsoon’.   I was just coming out of one of the normal showers when a black suited young slim attendant came and apologetically but firmly told me I must wear my bathing costume. I told her I had none – never before did you need them. She said it is now policy that everyone must wear a costume after complaints were received about nakedness. She tried to give me a line about ‘ethnic’ sensibilities but I told her that for years these baths were used by women from all races and were based on hammams where women could get together to wash, to be scrubbed raw by beefy attendants,  to henna, to shave, to laugh, to feel free.  It turned out the ethnic sensibility was that of young British slim girls who feel uncomfortable with their bodies unless clothed in a bikini.
Imagine being told off when standing naked and dripping in an expensively beautiful but spiritually dead Spa!

But some changes are wonderful. I was meeting my lovely niece at Kings Cross and suddenly realised that what I had known as the station had only ever been an ugly 1970’s facade and now it has been whipped away there stands the original beautiful building.
Inside by the departure boards is also a wonder – it is almost Gaudiesque!

So, today, outside the cars are all covered in snow and it is almost time to make our way up to the cemetary. A sad day but also another reminder – as if I needed one – that life is so precious.

This song was going around in my head – Timing by Kevin Jorhansen and the Nadas

Swinging

~ Kate Wilson ~ 2 Comments

I haven’t told you about Swing yet?

It was one of my New Year promises to myself – that this year I would get back dancing and that finally I would find a class in Swing.

Last Monday I rang up Swing Maniacs in Barcelona and found they had only three places left in the beginners classes.
Monday, Thursday or Friday nights. I quickly changed my English classes from Monday to Tuesdays and enrolled.
‘See you tonight‘ she said. I wasn’t expecting that!
Panic stations.  The class began in about three hours time.  I had to race out with Bonnie. Stuff down some lunch. Choose suitable dance shoes.  Run for the train.  Find my way to Carrer Esglesia in Gracia and gather my courage to walk into yet another new place alone and feeling just a little bit old.

It was the first day of term. Lots of people enrolling. I paid 88 euros for 11 weeks and found my way through a maze of corridors to a dance studio. There were two other single women waiting and when the class began three men arrived. It became obvious that they had danced swing before so it seemed that we three were the only beginners and the men are taxi dancers. What amazing luck! We all swopped partners and for 55 wonderful minutes we learnt the first basic steps of Swing.
Everyone was laughing and smiling. The music is uplifting. I found it easy to learn and to follow.  A wonderful evening!  This year I have such a strong feeling that if I dream of something – I must take action to do it!  Or at least to try.
And today – Sunday – there was Swing in the Porxada in Granollers. It was raining and when we arrived there was no-one dancing but after 20 minutes this was the scene.

Music and smiling and swing has arrived in Granollers.