So it’s Sant Jordi again – the year has turned full cycle since the last time when the streets of Granollers were filled with stalls selling red roses and books. By the afternoon the sun had broken through the clouds and so we didn’t have to walk under umbrellas or worry about the rain spoiling the whole event.
This year is a little strange as Sant Jordi is the day before Easter. I wonder how often that happens? Or if it ever falls on Easter Sunday?
There were all the stalls selling books in the Porxada and surrounding streets. This year I woke up to the fact that most places had exactly the same books – hardbacks especially published to coincide with this day.  So it was hard to find the right book – for the right price. The Catalan version of the one we wanted was 21 euros. I wonder why books are so much cheaper in the UK?

Then we looked at the roses – 5 euros each and all wrapped in what seemed identical plastic  covers. They looked nice but I did begin to wonder why some enterprising seller doesn’t start to do it in a different way? Perhaps with a pretty paper wrapping?

We had our usual conversation about the commercialism of most of the main festes here and I do begin to see what he means. Everything ends up being marketed and sold at an inflated price and without much creative imagination. Oh dear – I am feeling a bit jaded perhaps.
The sardanes in front of the Ajuntament were good to watch and I even saw a couple of young men – 17 years old? – dancing with spiky hair and smiley faces. The average age of dancers is around 65 I would say. The music lets you know when to raise and drop the arms! Everyone does little tiny pointy steps without moving very far and then suddenly it all gets faster – but still tiny – and then it slows down. It’s very subtle and because it was banned during times of repression of Catalan culture it is full of more emotion and significance than is obvious on the surface. Something further away from a flamenco you cannot imagine!

The shops are full of Mones de Pasqua – the cakes that are traditionally eaten on Easter Monday and which symbolise the end of the abstinence of Lent

On the way home we got some take-away orxata – the drink that when I first tasted it in Barcelona seemed like nectar from heaven. By this time the clouds were returning and it was too chilly to drink it on the street.