Arrival in Scotland

~ Kate Wilson ~ Leave a comment

The Catalan Way is on the road for the next couple of months.

I am travelling around the UK visiting family and friends before arriving in Cornwall and celebrating The Feast of Saint John in Penzance. Otherwise known as Golowan!  Midsummer is  a big celebration in Catalunya too and also centres on the  feast day of Sant Joan but I thought it would be lovely this year to have it in the UK. And there will be several Catalans coming over too. But more on that later!

I have slipped behind with posting – not from lack of ideas but time has suddenly speeded up and I don’t like the feeling of trying to catch up so I am going to just start where I am, right now.

Which, today is Glasgow


 I arrived yesterday at Prestwick airport and as always was surprised by the emotional impact of landing in Scotland. I haven’t lived here since 1980 – 34 years – but I still get a feeling of fullness in my chest when I arrive whether by train, car or plane.  I worked in the airport cafe when I was 16 but it is totally unrecognisable now.  I like this feeling of things changing – when you stay in one place it happens slowly but as soon as you move away it seems to speed up.  I say I like it but sometimes I am not so sure – change means excitement but also loss and I need to feel the balance is right between change and stability otherwise I start to lose my footing.  This visit there will be a lot of change to take in – including storm damage in Penzance, my friends new home in Norfolk and my Cornish cabin with no animals beside me

There is always a feeling of coming home when I arrive in Scotland.

Home.  What does that mean?   There are so many off pat answers but I am still exploring it.  Wouldn’t it be nice to really feel that home is wherever you put your hat?  

I always enjoy the first moments of speaking English and not having to think before I open my mouth. When the man at the sweetie counter said “See you later” I felt something different than when people call out “Hasta luego”  but I don’t really understand why.

Troon station with its new translation into Gaelic which seems odd as noone there speaks it. We are not in the Highlands – it’s Ayrshire!

 Glasgow Central station is impressive as always.  A metallic palace.  Opened in 1879 and now a listed building.

You don’t see so many women wearing headscarves as you used to when I was young

These tiles are a little reminder of Barcelona, as you walk out of the station

There was a chill wind out on the street while I waited for my sister to come and pick me up. Weather and where to live – that is yet another interesting line of thought.   How much does the weather really matter and why was it fine for me when I lived here and now I seem to be all soft and weak and want sunshine? 

I am in the afterweek of my birthday and as always it makes me think too much about age, time and change

Add to that the strong sensations of returning to my birth country and also that I am to travel for a month and you will see that I need perhaps a large whisky, a hot curry and an evening of playing cards with my niece. which is exactly what I have to look forward to this evening! 

See you later!

Tren dels Llacs

~ Kate Wilson ~ 1 Comment

Last weekend we took the Tren dels Llacs from Lleida to Pobla de Segur in the Pyranees. It leaves at 10.30 am and so we stayed overnight in Lleida
tren dels llacs

It is a trip I have wanted to do for years and finally it happened. You can go during the week but it is an ordinary train and there is no time to stop at the other end. On Saturdays they run a tourist train – it’s a beautiful old one with compartments – and you have a few hours to explore Pobla de Segur

alt=tren dels llacs
the beautiful old steam train is a work of art

It wasn’t expensive, 27 euros return for each person, and they took great care of everyone with free gifts, a couple of funny men who moved through the carriages making people laugh (not me of course – too British!)  and a stop-off on the way home for a glass of wine and a pastry with escalivada.

I took a lot of photos and here are some of them – including the train toilet which was very wonderful compared to the ones we have now. 
Modern trains have tiny toilets
 
electronic locks on the doors giving you no sense of privacy or security
 
you often can’t find how to flush it

and the actual toilet no longer gives you the pleasing feeling of the tracks thundering by straight down the hole

alt=tren dels llacs
remember old corridors?


There is a view from the window – which you can open!!!  See above.
Anyway, enough about the toilet, though I did like it – here is the corridor. It is a proper one making you squeeze your tummy in to let anyone past

And you can stand there with the window open and gaze out

alt=tren dels llacs
remembering looking out the window?
alt=tren dels llacs
Babcock & Wilcox

When you go between carriages there are those lovely in-between wobbly bits where again you can see the tracks rushing by
 
Right, now we get to the reason for the trains name – The Lakeland Train

We passed through tunnels and crossed bridges and passed numerous lakes

At Pobla de Segur there was a reception committee with a trumpet.
The doors opened inwards which made it feel better when hanging out the window – I love windows that open – who changed them in modern trains?

On the way back we sat in the restaurant car – yes they have that too – and watched it all again but from the other direction

Lovely day, lovely trip and I would highly recommend it. 
If you would like to learn more about the Tren dels Llacs and a lot more about the history of the line then take a look here.  I first heard about the train on the web site Iberian Nature which is also well worth a look.

An outsider looking in

~ Kate Wilson ~ 1 Comment

“I’ve felt like an outsider all my life. It comes from my mother who always felt like an outside in my father’s family.”   Anthony Hopkins
 I am going to tell you about our visit to Falset, the lovely town near Tarrogona where my partner’s aunt lives.  Falset is famous for wine and olive oil production and is where we get our bottles of Vermut – the real variety!
We drove over to Falset to celebrate Santa Montse – the saint’s day of all women called Montse (including Pep’s aunt) and of course our own much missed mother/mother-in-law. It was a family get together which if you have been paying attention to this blog you will know is not my favourite way to spend a day as I don’t feel relaxed and comfortable with that particular group of people. I don’t speak Catalan well enough but more than that, I don’t feel they are very interested in getting to know me.
But it went surprisingly well – perhaps partly because I love the auntie and so was happy to be there.  I also  love Falset and of course, things tend to go more smoothly when you meet up in neutral territory.
We ate here in a hill top restaurant called La Cassola in the wonderfully named Gratallops. The restaurant looks out over the vineyards and olive groves and was strangely empty for a Saturday lunch time. We all got quite giggly due to the immensity of the restaurant,  the strength of the rich red wine, the grumpiness of the owner/waitress and also the appearance of strange dishes like this typical Catalan escudella i carn d’olla
There was nothing odd about the dish itself, it was the fact that this huge tureen was a starter for one person!  Brother-in-law ploughed his way through it admirably but in the end had to admit defeat. 
 
The middle courses I don’t remember but I am sure they were also hearty. Then we had puddings and here they are!  
Music – dried fruit and nuts, served with a dessert wine
Crema Catalana –  the traditional option
Mel i Mato  – honey and a soft cheese
I couldn’t resist the Pyjama which turned out to be a bit of everything
We walked though the town afterwards and ended up at one of the wine cooperatives where we were overwhelmed by heady choices of wine and oil
I have always got on well with the Montses in the family – the living aunt and the sadly gone mother.  They belong to a generation which while it might have different opinions, is warm and welcoming to a stranger.  But I have spent many hours since arriving in Catalunya wondering why there is a coolness between me and the younger members of the family.  It is easy to think it is my fault – I don’t speak the language well enough, I don’t make enough effort to fit in, I occasionally duck out of events, I am so different culturally and in personality. But after this outing I did come to some conclusions which might explain this problem which has affected my ability to feel at home here.
“I think having an outsiders viewpoint is interesting and good.”
Paul Merton
1. Older people expect to be different from me and so can be accepting.  However younger people seem uncomfortable around  someone who is broadly their age but who is clearly not the same. They don’t know how to deal with me, what to think of me, where to psychically put me. I am an outsider by nature and by choice.
 
2. People in Catalunya generally do not move around as much as British people do. My own family are spread around the UK taking in London, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Cambridge and Cornwall, but the Catalan family all live within 10 miles of where they were born. Their husbands, wives and parents do too.  All of them come from a small area around our town.  Imagine what a difference this makes in your life!  Your friends are also from the same area. Everyone that surrounds you is familiar.  The nearbyness of your extended family.
 
They don’t know how to relate to this strange childless woman in her 50’s who suddenly arrived in their midst?  Who is she?  Where is she from?  Why did she leave her home and family to come here? What is in her past?  Does she have dark secrets chasing at her heels?  
 
They could chose to ask me these questions and try to find out about me or they can play safe, being friendly but not inquiring too closely. It is safer to welcome me but not let me get too intimate – after all – I may decide to set off for pastures new again one day. Or I might try to disturb the familiar patterns of their lives.
 
I think it is hard for British people coming here to really understand how it is to be part of such a different culture – deeply rooted in home territory, bonded closely with family and childhood ties, passionately protective of traditional customs and habits. 
 
I have struggled with understanding all this and I continue to peck away at it in my mind – trying to make sense of so many subtle things that disturb my equilibrium. It is only now after 5 years here that I can see how important it is not to take it too personally. It is not personal although it has so often affected me that way.
It is a ‘thing’ that affects me, hurts me, confuses me but it is not directed personally at me.  Phew!
Or maybe it is!  Eeeks!   Maybe they just don’t like me?
  
Deciding to embrace my role as ‘outsider’ may be the only answer that will give me peace and stop my constant worry that I don’t fit in here at all.
At least I am in good company – thanks Paul Merton, Anthony Hopkins, Jeremy Paxton and others who describe themselves this way.
Do you think that we all feel like outsiders?  Do you have this feeling sometimes?
I am curious to know how other people deal with this.
Let me know in the comments
“I’ve always felt myself to be an outsider, I’ve always felt awkward” 
Jeremy Paxman

 

 
 

 

 

A Walk around Ciutadella the ancient capital of Menorca

~ Kate Wilson ~ 1 Comment

Menorca in general and Ciutadella in particular show Catalunya at its best. Actually we were in the Catalan countries/ Paisos Catalans rather than Catalunya but does it make a difference?  To me not much.
We were given the use of a flat in Ciutadella and were able to spend the evenings wandering around the old town

Ciutadella is at the western end of the island and we arrived here on the Balnearia ferry. You can also arrive at the other main city of Maó which is where we left from a week later, with Transmediteranea.

Ciutadella was the old capital of the island but the power has since moved east to Maó. A long fairly straight road joins these two towns which are about 45km apart.

Old stones hug you with their warm safe reassuring strength

Arched colonades call you to explore some more

Warm soft colours – everywhere you turn

Walking the narrow streets takes you into another world. I love curved corners

There is a ronda encircling the old town – this square of the two fat ladies is a good orientation point

 On the ronda a lot of the less touristy shops are found. There isn’t really much traffic on the road either!

 I bought my new avarcas here. Tried on three pairs and then….

 when you find the right pair they slip on like Cinderella’s slipper and you never want to take them off!

  An ancient olive tree in the centre of town – cars are banned from the old streets

The sculpture is by Nuria Roman The Awakening

 The Menorcan food is fabulous. The famous Ensaimada has pork fat in it but we still brought a box home

 I couldn’t stop drinking in the colours. Can’t wait to get back to art class and try to create them myself


 We did our main exploration of the town on our last day but I need to go back and wander some more

 Perhaps with a paintbox and paper instead of a camera

 Perhaps these stories of Menorca will tempt you to go there yourself – tell me when and I will come too!

Going deep into the cave and exploring the Talaiotic culture

~ Kate Wilson ~ Leave a comment

We had one week on Menorca and saw only a small part of what there is to see.
There are hundreds of prehistoric sites for example and in the end we only visited two or three which we found by chance when driving to or from our daily walks.

Following a sign for Torrellafuda,  we drove down a long sandy lane and ended up in an almost empty car park. The only sounds were of birds singing in the surrounding olive tree groves. There are no restrictions on entry – no tickets or barriers. Passing through a gate, we were in a field full of wild flowers with a group of standing stones peacefully guarding the entrance to a cave

I said before in these tales of Menorca that I was constantly reminded of Cornwall and here yet again I had a strong sense of the connection between these two places. I started to ask myself if it was more than a coincidence. Perhaps it is not Menorca that reminds me of Cornwall but Cornwall that has reminded me of Menorca?

This site is known as Talaiotic which describes the people who lived here in the Bronze Age, taking their name from the emblematic stone built look outs called Talaiots.
They left behind them many other monuments and we can only guess at the meaning and significance of these remnants of this long ago culture.

 Taulas are the stone altars

and there are also dwellings, stone walls and burial chambers

First you arrive at the stones – they are close to the entrance to a cave

 Inside it is dark and damp.  It is high enough to stand upright but only just. Once inside there is another round room with stones along the edge for sitting on, or perhaps for laying things on?

There is a phospherescent green glow all around – bringing back memories of Carn Euny of course.
It looks a bit creepy doesn’t it but once inside I didn’t want to leave. 

I stood in the centre of the first cave and just as I was thinking ‘this is an interesting place’ I started to feel an immense powerful emotion build up in my chest. Before I knew what was happening I started to cry. A lot!  Weeping like there would be no end to it.  I stayed there for about half an hour and the feeling subsided, the tears stopped just leaving me peaceful and with a sense of somehow coming home to this place. It wasn’t the sort of thing I usually experience. I love ancient sites and can spend hours normally trying to connect with the energies of old. but this was different – it just happened to me without any effort on my part and without any understanding of what it was about.
Here is a photo of someone who has just been plugged in to something mysterious in a cave

Coming out of the cave and turning left there is a path that leads to the original settlement where they built the large stony hill or talaiot for keeping lookout over the surrounding countryside, as far as the sea. A little further on is the settlement and some broken stone altars and the remains of the town walls with small entrance holes

This site is one of the many Talaiot settlements on Menorca.

Talaiots are Bronze Age megaliths, stone built towers,  dating back to 2000 BC.
Climbing up high on the Talaiot you can see for miles, as far as the coast line.
Imagine in the Bronze age how long it would take to walk from here to the coast!

  Thanks to this web site about Menorca for some of the information I found about the Talaiotic culture.