Culture and Customs

Barça-Celtic

~ Kate Wilson ~ 3 Comments

I was quite surprised when the Resident Adolescent agreed to accompany me to see this match in Camp Nou. It was us alone – just us – noone else to help or hinder us. It’s not like we are great friends. We’re not big enemies either but you know how it is with a 17 year old especially if they are not your own son?  The step mother/son relationship is not always easy and has a huge heavy weight of baggage attached to it. Too many unexpressed emotions and not enough shared experience to carry you over the humps. Then there is the teenage  refusal to communicate.  How on earth are you supposed to make friendly contact when you are creatures from different planets?  And we had never been out together alone before.

Well, perhaps going to see Barça play at Camp Nou might bring us together.

Amazingly, we had a great time. We travelled by train and metro and foot and stopped off for a drink and something to eat. You have to talk a little when you are sharing a patatas bravas!  We chatted.  I overcame my shyness enough to ask relevant questions about discos and DJs and exams and football and he overcame his enough to answer and even smile.
I didn’t retreat behind my Kindle and nor did he behind his mobile phone.
Success!
We had great seats, right behind the corner so we could see Messi and Xavi close up

We were surrounded by kindly good-natured Barça fans except for two feisty Glasgow wifies sitting behind us who bravely chirped “Cel-tic  Cel-tic” every time that the crowd bellowed “BARÇA BARÇA”

The only false move I made was to scream and shout when Celtic got the first goal.
‘Sorry! I know I embarrassed you. But I couldn’t help it’.  He was mortified but too polite to complain.
For a few golden minutes Celtic was in the lead at Camp Nou

Afterwards as we walked away from the stadium it was me who felt embarrassed. Somehow the loud drunken chanting and bravado of the defeated Scottish fans, although harmless, seemed immature in comparison to the quiet chat of the Barça crowd.  It’s not that they are quiet during the game – our neighbours kept up a constant steam of oathes whenever it seemed that Barça was doing badly.
I learnt some new swear words although in the main it was the usual, puta mierda, collons, Ostia, cony. But after the game – friendliness and calm.

In the bar before the match one green and white clad Glaswegian fan insisted on shaking hands with all the men at this table of Catalans. ‘Good luck to you all’ he said as he pumped each arm.

So it’s not lack of good will that makes the Scottish fans seem edgy and pugnacious but perhaps an excess of alcohol?  Or is it just a different football culture?  Or insecurity?  Or that strange inferiority complex that can afflict us?   It feels like an anger that can easily bubble to the surface – something in the tone even of the chants.  I can’t imagine ever wanting to go to a football match in the UK – the seam of aggression that lies below the surface would scare me but I don’t feel that fear at Camp Nou.  As I have said before, Scotland and Catalunya – not really that similar.

Barça – Glasgow Celtic

~ Kate Wilson ~ 2 Comments

Look at this!

I went up to Barcelona today to get the tickets and to check on the route. We had paid on the internet but ‘for security reasons’ you can’t print out the tickets at home. Tomorrow I need to accompany the Resident Adolescent to hospital for a check up and it leaves us very little time to arrive at Camp Nou, let alone have to collect the tickets so I decided to go up to town and get them first.  The football game will be our first outing together – just us two as his father is working!

From Granollers I took the train to Sants then a metro to Badal and a 10 minute walk to the stadium.
There were lots of Scottish people around, wearing green jerseys and looking at home.  Normally in the UK I’d run a million miles to escape football supporters but somehow here in Camp Nou they seemed more human and friendly.
I don’t fancy meeting them after they get a few drinks inside though.

I picked up the tickets after a fair bit of faffing around in the wrong queues and at the wrong gate. The place to pick up pre-ordered tickets is just inside Gate 14 and there are no signs leading you there.
Afterwards I did the journey in reverse, noting down times and deciding that if we catch the 7.30 train tomorrow we can just make it to see the opening of the match.  I took the metro from Collblanc on the way home which I think is slightly closer.

Now to decide what to wear to the match.  And who am I supporting?  It feels really interesting to have this match now – with all the Scottish Catalan connections around independence.

Should be interesting.

PS After I got home the hospital rang and cancelled the appointment – so we can leave early and catch the beginning of the game. Yippee!

Two annoying things

~ Kate Wilson ~ 3 Comments

For ages I’ve been meaning to get these two things off my chest.
They are not so important but niggle at me most days.

1. Little dogs on extending leads
Most people here have little dogs. They also have them on extending leads. They also like to gather in groups in the middle of the pavement, chatting.
When walking along the main street Bonnie and I have to pass a lot of small pooches with big attitudes. They wait till we are parallel and then go berserk, barking and running towards us with their leashes unwinding like fishing lines. Because their owners hardly ever have them under control. 
Bonnie is pretty good, I tell her, ‘Deja’ ‘Leave it’ and her ears go back but she doesn’t retaliate. But since I read that one of the tasks of Pack Leader is to protect her pack, I now have to be alert for little dogs in the street and I expect I am now known for my unfriendly attitude as I shoe them away.

2. Pedestrian rights on crossing the road


Basically the rule is that even when there is a green man giving people the right to cross over the road, cars turning right can still come round the corner so long as they go slowly and give any pedestrians priority.
What often happens is that cars try to get past before the humans have started crossing over.  Or they nose up to you when you are in the middle of the road. Everyone here seems to feel cars are more important than people so it is far from unusual to see cars speed up as they approach traffic lights which are changing. At least it keeps you awake!

Canet de Mar

~ Kate Wilson ~ 4 Comments

Saturday was a beautiful sunny day. We set off to look at flats by the sea on the Maresme.
It is a recent plan – that instead of looking for a new home to move into, we stay based here in Granollers and also rent a small flat, mainly for me to use as a peaceful retreat and as somewhere to put my ‘stuff’.  Stuff which is still in packing boxes one year after moving it to Spain.

There is a train line that goes along the coast from Barcelona and ends up at Blanes where it turns inland. If we could find somewhere along that line it would mean an easy trip to and from town – big town I mean.  There is a problem with getting across to Granollers – there are no easy connections by public transport so it would mean driving, and more importantly, parking!

And then there is the problem of the coastal towns. They were heavily developed in Franco’s Spain and so appear to my Cornish/Scottish gaze, pretty ugly and sprawly.
But their horrible industrial, modern, high-rise exteriors often hide a central area that is beautiful and more village-like

Canet de Mar is one example of this. Of course there is the busy road and the railway line which cut off the town from the sea but there is also a long sandy beach and on the other side, a town with some interesting Modernist buildings and a peaceful seaside atmosphere

There is a resident radical theatre company called The Comediants.
And posters around town advertised drawing classes and dancing.

My favourite place would be Sant Pol.  It is near the beach that we go to regularly and is like a jewel on the coast, the road has turned inward and so the town is much more peaceful. The water is blue and the streets are narrow. We looked at a few flats – one too expensive, one too big, one too dark.  There was a lovely one for the right price close to the beach, but far away from shops and cafes.
We picked up a free smile to keep in the car

And then went to the beach for a glorious afternoon of sun and sea air. There was hardly anyone else there – a Friday in October – a gift from the gods

Barcelona on a Plate – the Catalan girls

~ Kate Wilson ~ 4 Comments

This is the scene at the entrance of the Newlyn Fish Festival today

Yes, it is raining and although today is supposed to be the worst, that doesn’t mean it is going to be sunny, just that perhaps tomorrow it will rain less.
I feel sorry for everyone – holiday makers, people in tents, anyone trying to organise outdoor events like the theatre in the park or at the Minack, all the people who live here and face a long dark winter without having built up a reserve of Vitamin D, and especially I feel sad for my dear friends from Barcelona who are back in Penzance and running The Catalan Kitchen.
They have a wonderful catering business making authentic paellas in various locations over what is humorously called ‘summer’ – campsites, private parties and local festivals like The Fish Festival.
I went there today to see them and watch a paella being made – from the first sizzling garlic cloves to the final five minutes when it must ‘rest’ under a cover to allow the steam to finish off the cooking

I am very inspired by Marta and Cristina – they had a dream of making Catalan food available in Cornwall when they first came over four years ago.  Marta and I had met at a tango class in Barcelona and when they had a chance to visit the UK they decided to ignore the pull of London and to come and visit me. That friendship led to many things – new relationships, new homes, new lives.
And now seeing them here smiling brightly in rainy Newlyn makes me very happy and glad to be part of something so alive and creative

They have made a great success of the business and managed to do so in one of the worse summers Cornwall has ever known.  What an inspiration!

But for them and for everyone else here in Cornwall I wish for some sunshine and blue skies – we need it now – Please!