Maria Antonia

Happy New Year y’all!

Before I tell you about the recent activity, I just wanted to show you a couple of pictures from Monica’s imaginative hand crafted sweets, like the gnome muffin, or the sunbathing penguins. A charming small specialized bakery in old town Mataro, Monica called me for a single 2 hour conversation class, to help her out with a job interview with a plastic container company in another nearby town Dosrius. Once a lawyer in Argentina, much like our Green Home Center, she was able to leave the law business behind and realize her dream with these edible treats. It made me very sad to see this dream washed away like so many others, to have this talent go no where.

You may not remember Maria Antonia, but I did introduce you to her when we met during the Ebro river trip with Ecologistas en Accion, and we joined her again during the Entrevinas trip. This time she came to stay with us for a few days, actually we stayed at Jordi’s, then we drove up to the Costa Brava for a couple of days, as she had not yet been there. Maria Antonia is an organic grape grower, this year she and her daughter bottled a very limited number of bottles as they were finding a buyer, and have begun the certification process with flying colors. She brought one bottle for us, and it was excellent.

Our first stop was Sant Marti d’Empuries, which I remembered having visited the Museum of Roman artifacts and sculptures dug up on site. From the photo you can see a Roman wall by the shore, about 3000+ years old.

After a late lunch we headed towards Rosas, which despite being an extremely popular summer vacation town, giving name to the bay, I never cared for it because it was developed for mass tourism early on. The majority of visitors here are french, which became even more apparent when I crashed from my bike in a dark area while riding along the beach front, even     Berta (Jordi’s 11 year old daughter who also came along) was jokingly repeating “oh la la” afterwards. We stayed in a camping cabin, they call them bungalows, but they’re small cabins, and it was so cold, the heater wasn’t working well, and the blankets...well, they simply were not enough.

Early start next morning, 
even though we had bought enough food to eat in, we simply wanted to go find a warmer spot for breakfast. And of to Sant Pere Pescador, to the small delta formed where Fluvia River joins the Mediterranean Sea, surrounded by beautiful swamps; this is a favorite vacation spot for Jordi and his brothers. When we arrived, still cold, fabulous clouds in the sky, that suddenly changed as we were playing with paddle board, canoe and windsurf, the moment the sun came out, the powerful Tramontana, a wind that comes from the North.

We still managed to visit Pals and Tamariu before dark. Pals is another historical medieval walled castle on a hill town.
From the view point of Pals, a lovely scenery with the Medas Islands (similar to the Farallon Islands, as far as nature only place, however closer, making them easier to view).

And Tamariu is a typical Costa Brava beach, which fortunately like a few others, has not suffered the terrible over-construction others have, due to the narrow windy road that takes you there. And just like when I lived in Hermosa Beach, all these places are so much nicer in the winter, because in the summer these beaches are so full of vacationeers. 

Only 9 more days now, before I board a plane back to San Francisco, and you all know how excited I am to being around there with you guys... love you all!

Our Daily Bread

I guess that as my return date is quickly nearing, I have been slacking more so on communicating with y’all, and I’m beginning to wonder if my blog will come to an end. While I still am unsure of what, where and when my place will be in the near future, I still have to make some decisions, like: should I take the plane ride home?...home? I don’t know where that is now, I’m torn. But Marin is out of the question, as it is still too costly without a significant salary. But after so many years in such a beautiful area, it’s heartbreaking, however if nothing else, this past year has helped me realize, I can be here too, my old, old friendships are very strong, caring and helpful.

This is not to say that “shit happens” here too; I know I’ve only given you good, fun stuff, that there is plenty of, but there have been bumps along the way, finding a place to park my bags was not fun, I wanted to jump back on the plane when I was less than a week in, and that happened at least two more times since. I gave up completely on developing any kind of friendship with my (ex)husband, when I realized he was not the person I once knew, and has yet cared to communicate with me.I’ve also had some physical problems, stomach flu in March, flu in July, and recently a swollen molar, which I have not yet had time to check on because till just last week I was immobilized with serious lower back pain, that the physical therapist informed me that was the psoas muscle, and was caused by my three day bike trip. Apparently, if you don’t usually ride your bike, you’re supposed to take it on gradually and not go 3 intense full days. 

To resume, unless something (a great job) changes, the plan is to come right back for another year and give my new idea a chance. With this in mind, I will leave Wilbur here, visit friends and Dr Cory, go spend a couple of weeks in Tahoe with Jordi, and a few days in Squamish with Mom. And make the decision whether or not to sell my Smart car.

Are you wondering what “my new idea” is? Some of you may already know; while driving back from Logrono, Jorge was talking about the Coop that he started a month ago, a food coop delivering a “green basket” to 20+ families, started with 11 families, and every week someone new adds on. Anyhow, he would like to include organic breads, but nobody in the area near him (Vallles Oriental) makes it. So he suggested I do it, and the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.

So last Sunday morning, we drove up with a couple of people from his town, to www.vergeldelashadas.com a farm in the woods near Hostalrich, where our marvelous teacher, Adalu and her incredibly handy husband Santi taught us how to make bread, we made pizzas too with all kinds of organic toppings. And we took the breads home and they were more delicious, I guess because we made them.

I should be seeing Jorge tomorrow, in order to go to the “Ecologistas Convention”, I’m curious to see if it’s anything like the “Green Festival”. He told me he was going to buy some organic flour yesterday to start doing some samples on our own.

Meanwhile last night, I went with my girlfriends to see a surprise concert. It was a surprise cause none of us had seen this group or knew what they sounded like; and it was a treat, because the singer had a heavenly voice. The group is La Porta dels Somnis” ( the door of dreams).

Check them out...

EntreViñas

Logroño en Bici, the bike organization of that city, had put together a 3 day tour of the Rioja for their members, as this is harvest time, and when the leaves have turned red and yellow, which makes for a very colorful spectacle. 

50 people had signed up, however some of them also belong to Ecologistas en Accion, and since many of the Vive el Ebro group were interested, they allowed those people to sign up; so now 150 people were on board, more would have come, but the people in charge, lacking experience with large groups, were afraid to take on more.

I had left Wilbur behind with my friend Alicia, because this trip was bikes only, no support vehicle, and at a rate of 50 kms daily was too much for his paws. So Jorge and I took the van to Logroño, there was no sleeping provided for the first and last day, so we used the van; but first we headed over to Plaza del Mercado at 8pm, the meeting spot for a welcome critical mass throughout this gorgeous city. Followed by a little bar hoping, wine and tapas.

The next morning we gathered again at Plaza del Mercado, we received a little instruction and police escort to the beginning of the trail. Upon arriving at the first town of Oion, the group split 3 ways, one longer, harder route, climbing the sierra, second a shorter route, while the third was heading more direct to the final destination of the day, the medieval castle town of Laguardia, that just happened to be celebrating it's festivities. Jordi and I waited for Ana from Elche in Oion, as she was delayed due to loosing one of her wheels, on her drive up. By lunch time we landed in Yecora, where all the groups coincided, so the only local bar ran out of food. Luckily, most people carried some snack, besides stopping along the way to feed on grapes, figs, almonds, walnuts. Somehow along the way I ended up in the longer route, arrived at dusk to Laguardia, and showered with cold water. We all went out to enjoy the festivities.


Although I was still very tired in the morning, I was trying not to fall behind. I was dragging myself in order to make it to the Eguren Ugarte winery, however after the visit we enjoyed some wine tasting and a delicious chorizo sandwich, and I guess it must have given me a real boost, cause after that I was cruising along just fine, I even made it to Briones, another castle city, in time for a hot shower.


Last day back to Logroño, seemed not as hard, but definitely longer, and a feast for the eyes in it's entirety. There were no showers upon arrival, we changed when we got to the van, and went back to Plaza del Mercado to meet up with everyone again and do some typical bar hoping.

Before heading back home the next day, we took a 40km detour to visit another castle city, this time it was Olite, not far from Pamplona; this town had to spend a fortune on the reconstruction of this XIII century bastion, but it was definitely worth the trip.

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Magic Fountains

Back in 1969, while in Toronto living with my grandparents and uncle Victor, all were usually busy at work when I came home from school, occasionally I would forget my keys, and I’d squeeze my then skinny arm through the mail slot of our apartment door, reach up to unlock the door. I was not allowed to go out and play, the very few times I did, I would somehow get into trouble; so most of the time I watched from our eighth story window, while the others kids played below. The old  b&w tv we had, sat on top of an old faded yellow leather suitcase that sat flat on the floor, we didn’t have a sofa, we did have a couple of chairs and a small dining table, but I preferred sitting on the floor, the commercials were different versions of fun, kids and circus people enjoying peanut butter, which I had no idea what it might taste like, but everyone loved, as did the kids in my class at school. After months of begging, my grandmother surprised my with a small jar; I was so excited, my mouth watering, and when finally the peanut butter touched my tongue, my world crumbled around me, it was disgusting!, how was it possible? 

I remember one evening, we watched Ed Sullivan interviewing Robert Wagner, Ed asked the question: “if you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?”...

I had asked myself that same question once in my life, about 15 years ago, and after much thought I answered myself: driving along Pacific Coast Highway with my friend Heather at the wheel, going nowhere in particular and enjoying a little toke.

Anyway, back to Robert, he answered: “on the steps of Montjuic in Barcelona watching the colored water fountains”...Oh boy! I was so excited, my grandmother too; but it was my grandfather who would take me there several times throughout my childhood and it was always such a treat, and it still is, actually now it’s even better, cause back in the 80’s they added music too. My grandfather told me the engineer Buigas, who designed the fountains, had died penny-less for lack of work afterwards.

I had been wanting to go for awhile now, so when Alicia called about going to the big city with her kids, be both agreed, let’s do it. 

A week after that I met Sandy, who hadn’t been back here since the 60’s, and I only got to spend part of one day with her, as I had to go to one of my classes and she had planned train/bus trip to Cadaques. We tried to take it easy, by not going too fast, but still, there’s so much to see that walking is the best way to get around, otherwise you miss a bunch. The one place she said she wanted to see is Parc Guell, which is a treat, except that it’s loaded with tourists. 

We walked up towards the mountain, through and stopped for lunch in Gracia neighborhood, ate a traditional catalan menu for 10 euros each, and went to the parc right after, around 4pm, usually not so crowded, and best before kids let out of school.

9/11

I am running behind on my blogging lately, not sure if it’s the laziness of the summer heat, which is not entirely too bad, but the high humidity makes you sweat if you move an inch, or it could be that I have been here, telling my stories for just over 6 months now, and I’m not sure if my readers are still interested, or if I’m still interested? I guess if nothing else, I can always look back, like when we look at old pictures, and relive those moments in our lives, particularly now that my short term memory is so bad.

All around the world, for the past 10 years 9/11 is remembered for the falling of NYC twins towers (plus the building several blocks away that held the Enron documents), but I won’t get into that. There’s also another 9/11, or as it is known here (since we switch the day/month), 11 de Setembre de 1714, also known as “Diada de Catalunya”, which celebrates the biggest defeat of the Catalan Nation, when the ancestors of the current King of Spain waltzed into the walls of Barcelona to kill everyone, every Catalan person they could find.

I don’t know of any other culture that actually “celebrates” a defeat, then again Catalan people are a rare bunch, and the struggle goes on, it never stopped. When I was in high school here, Franco was still in business, even from his deathbed he executed a 17 year old boy, who happened to be the brother of one of my class mates and friends. 

Nearly 40 years later not only dealing with the same fascist shit, but from within Spain the truth of the past is still covered up, as was astounding when the same spanish judge Battasar Garzon, who was so praised for exposing Pinochet and many other world tyrants, was instead incarcerated for exposing Franco’s vile butchery throughout his lifetime.

More recently the current fascist political party known as PP (Partido Popular) that has won regional elections in central Spain, brought to the table a new mandate to enforce Castilian language over Catalan that is currently and for the last 30 years been taught in schools and has worked very well because it integrates all immigrants.

So I met with my uncle Victor to go downtown, visit “el Fossar de les Moreres” which is the mass burial site for those who died back in 1714, and listen to a few people speak there mind, and admire all the passion that is still a huge part of the significance of being Catalan.

We stopped to say hello to Jordi Bigues, who is promoting his book due to be released later this month: Avui Actius, o Dema Radioactius” (today active or tomorrow radioactive), unfortunately, the book is being published in Catalan, and although there is a hopefull plan to publish an English translation, there are not enough funds as of yet to do so.

Oh, and by the way this Catalan flag with the single star, that you've seen above, is the future flag of the Republic of Catalonia, they call it "estelada".

5 Days in Borreda

In case you didn’t know, in Spain during the month of August everyone shuts down and goes on vacation; that’s how it was when I was young, and to an extent it continues, however, due to the recession, most people can’t afford to go away for the entire month, many don’t even go anywhere, they simply take time off from work. So those who have managed to still be in business shut down for a week or two. 

It took me a couple of weeks just to get used to businesses closing in the middle of the day; so you better be sure that you have all your ingredients for the sumptuous meal your about to prepare, cause if you forgot anything you’re S.O.L.

So Renfe, the train company shut down most of their stations downtown Barcelona in order to do some improvements, which meant you would need to take the Metro or Ferrocarrils Catalans to connect in between. Dogs are allowed on trains, but not on any other public transport, so getting around with Wilbur was not possible without a little help.

The previous week I went to visit Esther in Roda, and left Wilbur behind with Edward overnight, but last week Edward dropped us off at Sants station so we could take the train to Ripoll, where Maite, a very dear high school friend met us, as this was the closest, half an hour to Borreda (in the Bergueda region), the town town of her mental release for the last 20 years, which has been her husband’s family getaway for the last 50 years.

She had told me awhile back that I would understand the reason of their decision to become dangerously loaded with a mortgage once I saw this place. As Xavi’s other family, brother, sister and all their kids just got too big for one house, and the two of them couldn’t bear the thought of letting go of this old house...could you?

Maite is one of two very old, very dear friends that are truly akin to me, much like those new friends in my river Ebro experience, knowledgeable, concerned and acting to better our environment; so you can imagine we have plenty to talk about, so much so, that a couple of times we caught ourselves not leaving the kitchen for hours on end, while Xavi was busy cleaning and fixing the outdoor shed.

But our late afternoon, early evening hikes were totally awesome, we kept heading along one river or other so both Wilbur and Roc could play along the way jumping in and out of the water, so we didn’t need to worry about them getting hot or thirsty.

Our mood was high-lit by delicious cookies, brownies and a blackberry cheesecake of which we used the special ingredient butter we had prepared early on.

I had a hard time leaving this place and my friends, and I hope to go back sometime soon.