I noticed in the grocery stores that there is a wide variety of potato chips that we don’t have in the US.  Those flavors include:

• Ham & Cheese
• Chicken
• Iberian Ham
• Fried Egg
• Caviar
• Olive & Anchovy
• Black Truffle & Sea Salt
• Goat Cheese & Onion
• Worchestershire
• Bacon & Cheese
• Paprika
• Prawn Cocktail

I held a blind taste test of these flavors with my guests as the unwitting judges.  They were not informed of the flavor of the chips prior to tasting — and strangely, they often could not identify the taste even after being informed of the name.

Some were judged to be truly grotesque – the chicken, the caviar, and the fried egg flavors were especially revolting.   I thought the Worchestershire chips weren’t bad, but no one else agreed.  The Paprika were tolerable.  Prawn-flavored??  Yuck!!!  Even though bacon and cheese sounds like it could be good, after all it has bacon….forgeddaboutit!  Not that we (in the US) don’t have some unappetizing chip flavors, but just sayin’… I think I’ll stick with my Marcona almonds as a snack!!

 

 

 

Actually, I think they are called “shitters” in Catalan.

This strange Catalan customs pays tribute to the traditional shepherd who relieves himself in the field.  The typical figure wears a red hat and squats with his pants down, taking a dump.  These figures actually appear in Christmas nativity scenes!!

Non-traditionally, other characters have been made in the same stance — usually political  or pop culture figures.  I actually saw one of the Virgin Mary — which I really thought was going too far.

Additionally, at Christmas, there is another tradition in Catalunya of a shitting log called the Tío de Nadal (Christmas log).

Beginning with the Feast of the Immaculate Conception (December 8),  the tió is given a little bit to eat every night and is covered with a blanket so that he will not be cold. In the days preceding Christmas, children must take good care of the log, keeping it warm and feeding it, so that it will defecate presents on Christmas Day or Eve.  I’m not making this up.

I think they are a little obsessed with shitting, personally.

I’ve always felt safe in Spain, and I still do, in spite of having now been involved in three separate criminal incidents, all in Barcelona.  It is a big city and tourists make easy targets, I suppose.

The first incident I wrote about earlier — my tire was slit by a motorcyclist hoping to persuade me to let him “help” me repair the tire — a ruse to rob us.

The second and third incidents occurred within 24 hours.  My friends Don and Doug, owners of the highly rated bed and breakfast, Oakhill Inn in Natchez, and I were returning to our Airbnb apartment in the Gothic Quarter after dinner, when we were approached by a man who appeared to be drunk.  He said he wanted to dance the rhumba with us!  Pretty quickly, my friends deduced that it was a scam.  At the same time another guy appeared, seemingly to warn us that we were about to be robbed.  The first guy then grabbed a rubber hose from a nearby trash bin and swung it at Don, missing.  I got the door open and we leapt inside, but we were shaken.  Don thought the two might be working in concert, but we’ll never know.

The next morning when we went to retrieve my car from the parking garage on our way to Montserrat, we discovered that the driver-side rear window had been shattered.  Nothing was taken – I had left a leather jacket and another coat in the car, along with a few other things.  Only my time was stolen — my punishment, I suppose, for being a tourist with a foreign license plate.  My car is leased through Renault Eurodrive and so bears red French plates, different from all of the other EU plates.

It took almost 6 hours to be on our way, having to change all plans in order to report the incident to the garage management, report to Renault Eurodrive, make a police report, take the car to the Renault Dealership for repair, and go to the airport to rent a temporary car.  What a day!  It was tedious, sometimes confusing between English, Spanish, and French, but in the end, accomplished.  The highlight was meeting Ruth, an internal auditor for Renault who happened to be at the dealership.  She took it upon herself to help us through the process — though it was in no part her job — and then take us for beers next door while we waited.  She even had a beer herself and a few cigarettes and then went back to work!

In the end, it was only a loss of time, but I may not take my car into Barcelona in the future.  Live and learn!

We finally made it to Montserrat!

Below is the abbey built on the mountain of Montserrat (meaning serrated mountain in Catalan) founded in the 11th century to enshrine the image of the Black Virgin, the Virgin of Montserrat.  It was rebuilt in the 19th century.  The Abbey is beautiful, but the mountain is spectacular!!

 

 

I’m definitely not a race car driver like AJ.  I tend to drive just above (or below) the speed limit.   I believe now, however, that I could drive the Le Mans in my spiffy Renault.  I love driving the winding roads leading from Begur to my apartment.  The roundabouts no longer intimate me.  And I’ve driven several high mountain roads with no railing and no middle line. You have to trust that your fellow drivers will be in their own narrow lane when you turn the curve.  In Menorca, I drove down some extremely narrow roads, cursing most of the way — usually, Holy Shit!! There have been other single lane roads where I turn a curve and meet a car going in the opposite direction and it becomes a game of chicken as to who will go in reverse until someone can pass.

This past week in Sitges, I not only drove on and over several sidewalks, but at one point, I had to maneuver around a family sitting at a table on the sidewalk eating lunch!  And it was totally legal!

I believe I have become an AWESOME driver!

I miss everyone!!

Pre-retirement and for the last 35 years, I have lived in a constant hurry.  There was never enough time!  I had little patience for those who drove too slowly or walked too slowly!  I always used to say that I did not understand people with no sense of urgency.  I LIVED with a sense of urgency all of the time.

It occurred to me recently, that I’ve lost it!  One day, I planned to catch the train to Barcelona for the day, but I overslept.  I could have hurried and made it, but I dismissed that thought.  I figured I’d go the next day, and I did.  I know this is a by-product of retirement, but I never figured it would happen to me.  I lived on adrenaline and stress!  More coffee, please!  Now, I cannot even imagine hurrying.  I don’t know if I can.  I’m curious to see if the pace back in the US will awaken my prior time clock when I return.

And the siesta is still a thing here!  Bigger stores and businesses stay open all day in the larger cities and in tourist areas, but in Begur, even the gas station closes for several hours in the afternoon.  Can’t buy gas during lunch!! What’s confusing is that they all have different hours.  Some close from 1:30 to 4:00 or 2:00 to 4:00 or 1:00 to 4:30.  How’s a person to know?  That’s the point.  They don’t care.

So, I’m living more slowly on a day-to-day basis, but I’m still in a hurry to do everything I can in the time I have left.  Onward!! At my pace…

 

I’ve always valued my friendships and have made an effort, which did not feel like any effort at all, to maintain those friendships.  I feel very fortunate to have a lot of close friends and a stable number of very close friends.

I feel profoundly the lack of friends who are present in my life now – few new friends to interact with day-to-day, or less frequently by email or text.  That being said, it makes me seriously appreciate those of my friends who have reached out to me through means that are not always easy or rote.  A WhatsApp or FaceTime video call makes my day!!

I am at the halfway mark of this adventure, and I feel pulled from time to time to consider what form my next adventure will take, but I am trying to stay focused on the now and leave the future for the future.

Thanks to those of you who have reached out.  I am grateful and I look forward to renewing our ties when I return…

Love.

 

 

 

 

There’s a scene in “The French Lieutenant’s Woman” where Jeremy Irons sees Meryl Streep at the end of a breakwater where the waves are crashing high and the wind is whipping and she is standing near the edge wearing a hooded cloak.  It’s a very dramatic scene of their reunion, made more dramatic by the setting.

I think of it often as I stand on my balcony.  Today the wind is steadily blowing at 35 mph, presumably with stronger gusts.  With the wind comes the salt blowing up from the Med covering everything, including my car in the parking lot.  I can hardly see out of the windows to drive.  And this will keep up for the next couple of days with no relief.  It’s truly beautiful.  The wind chimes are going to town.  All of the pillows from the couch have been blown out of the furniture and several small flower pots have bitten the dust.

The roaring, non-relenting wind is confusing to the dogs.  When we set out on a walk, they mainly just want to go home.  And when we get home,  we all look like we’ve been riding in a convertible all the way from Houston to Galveston!

Mother Nature is a powerful force here!!  La Costa “Brava.”

Wikipedia says “Mule train” may refer to: a connected or unconnected line of mules, pulling or carrying cargo or riders. Mule Train also is a 1949 popular song sung by Frankie Laine (PLEASE click on the link!).  I think of it almost every day when I’m walking my dogs.  I feel like I’m trying to steer mules!  For all of their lives with me, Cassie and Cam either have had a big backyard or a huge dog run to freely wander, sniff, and relieve themselves.  Now, however, because I live on cliffs overlooking the sea, they must be walked on leashes.  It’s a long way to the water and they don’t like to swim.  It would be all over.  So, I hold them tight and don’t let them get too near the edge.  There are several problems with this scenario — that they’re not very well trained is the biggest of these, but also I suppose there are many different and VERY interesting smells here.  They constantly pull as hard as they can trying to get into the bushes to get to God knows what.  I’m out there hollering at them like a crazy person and I have to practically drag them home.  It’s nuts!  It reminds me of taking the kids to the mall when they were toddlers.

That means I am the queen of the lower mountain in Catalan, I think!  I feel that I am.  My only neighbors on the mountain, a pretty large hill, actually, are moving to Barcelona next month.  After that, I’ll be the only one living here full time, probably until spring.  There is an older woman who lives at the top of the hill, but it’s just me below that.  When some of the apartment owners come on the weekends, I feel like they’re invading my space!

I used to say nature smature, because I didn’t care all that much about nature, or have time to pay much attention to it.  But here, now, I am surrounded by so much incredible beauty, especially  the constantly changing hues and rhythms of the sea.  Sometimes, it is calm like a lake with hardly a ripple.  At other times, it is like a washing machine, all fury and whiteness.  And it can change so quickly!

The colors of the sunrises in the morning over the Mediterranean and the sunsets in the afternoon, and the moon rising over the sea at night — I am endlessly amazed.  At night, I sleep with the window open and feel the sea breeze, sometimes more like a tornado, and listen to the waves, which can be almost deafening when it’s rough.  That’s why this area is called the Costa Brava – because the sea can be so “brave” and wild.

Covering my hill and elsewhere, there are pine forests interspersed with cacti and palm trees.  I hear the seagulls call and the doves cooing in the mornings.   I’m constantly overwhelmed.  Maybe it’s because I have time now…but it’s just too beautiful for my words.

The sea also provides endless entertainment.  There are all types of watercraft — from kayaks, wave runners, and paddle boards to sailboats, motorboats, fishing boats, and ferries, ocean liners, and freighters.  I always have my binoculars and camera at the ready!  At night, I can see the twinkling lights of Pals, L’Estartit, and Roses, the lighthouse on the Illes des Medes, and other lights farther away, which I believe are in France.  Yes, I can see France from my balcony!

 

My father was known for his love of and insatiable curiosity about food.  Maybe that was because of his upbringing in East Texas where he had plenty of fried chicken and chicken fried steak, but nothing “exotic” like spaghetti or Chinese food (until he met my mother)!  He was also known for choosing the most unusual item on the menu, just to try it.  He was probably the first person I knew who tried squid in it own ink in Spain.  The strangest to me and the one that made me gag a little was the dish of sparrows he had in rural France.  Those tiny, bony bodies…yuck.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, I inherited that love of food.  I often follow his lead, outside of organ meats or strong cheeses, to try the strangest thing on the menu.  Lots of menu items are unusual here or different, but “guacamole with mussels” seemed truly odd!!  When I inquired of the waiter as to what exactly it was, he said “ah…secrets of the chef.”  Then it came, and lo, it was a bed of guacamole with chopped cooked mussels on top.  Bizarro.   I would have taken a photo of it, but my phone was dead!

Another strange dish that is popular here is “migas,” which are not like Tex Mex migas, but a big bowl of bread crumbs with a fried egg or something else on top, and, strangely, grapes.  I had to order it just once, but I couldn’t believe I was eating a bowl of bread crumbs!

Another menu item that caught my eye was on McDonald’s billboards –french fries with bacon.  You can get just bacon, or bacon and cheese, or bacon and barbecue sauce.  I haven’t been to McDonald’s since my kids were small, but I am going to have to try fries with BACON!! I just read they’re coming to the US in 2019!

I’m certain there will be an update to this entry before the end of my time here!!

PS I’m proud to say this love of food was inherited by Fred’s grandchildren!